Dearest Clementine

by Lex Martin

  “That’s easy,” Dani says, twisting the top off her juice. “I won’t date anyone who wears loafers with tassels or loafers without socks. Or a guy who picks his teeth. Gross.”

  “Oh, those are good!” Jenna scribbles in her notebook while I peel tomatoes out of my sandwich.

  I have to think about it for a few minutes, but mulling over Professor Marceaux’s declaration about not using the f-word brings me to a realization.

  “I hate when people say, ‘Let’s make love.’ It makes me cringe for some reason, the same way I hate guys with clammy hands or hairy chests. Yuck.” Gavin’s chest is fairly hair-free… except for that sexy trail on his lower stomach that leads south. He switched t-shirts at the gym the other day, and I nearly had a coronary.

  I wedge a fallen piece of turkey back within the two slices of wheat bread and take a bite as Jenna laughs and scribbles. “You’re so right! If Ryan told me ‘let’s make love,’ I’d kick him in the gonads.”

  Snorting out a sip of soda, Harper tries not to choke. “That’s kind of harsh, Jenna. Ryan might need those some day.”

  Twirling her pen through her blonde hair, Jenna rolls her eyes. “Of course I’d never kick Ryan in the family jewels. Oh, you know what I really hate?” Jenna cocks an eyebrow. “Crotch-scratchers, especially when they do it right in your face as though it’s not obvious they’re reaching for their frank and beans. What is it with guys adjusting themselves? You don’t catch girls randomly rubbing the vag.”

  We’re laughing so hard a study group two tables down shoots us dirty looks that make us laugh harder.

  “Save room for the chips and queso, ladies,” Jenna says, jumping up to get some napkins and a soda refill. She’s decided to turn this into a girls’ night, which is sounding better and better.

  As I watch her cross the cafeteria, Wheeler strolls in. My mouth goes dry and my heart pounds. Flying into panic mode, I search for a hiding place, but I don’t have time because he’s already seen me.

  Shit. Shit.

  The girls see my expression and turn to look.

  “Who’s that?” Dani asks.

  I clear my throat, hoping the few bites I’ve eaten don’t come back up. “My old professor, Jason Wheeler.”

  “He doesn’t look old.”

  Clad in jeans, a button-up and a black blazer, he looks like a J. Crew model.

  “He’s not. He’s thirty.”

  “He’s really cute.” Dani tilts her head while she watches them. “But should he have his arm around that girl? She looks like a student.”

  Harper looks at me for a split second before she answers. “That’s kind of what he does. Have you seen him recently, Clem?”

  “No.” I swallow to quell my nausea. “I’ve seen him, but he hasn’t seen me.” Because I’ve hidden. And dragged Jenna down into the dirt with me. And threatened a co-worker with bodily harm.

  And now he’s walking straight toward us. Fuck.

  “Clementine Avery.” My name. That’s all it takes to suck the air out of my chest. “So good to see you, love. How have you been?”

  Fine, since you stopped stalking me, asshole.

  I take a deep breath.

  “I’m well, Jason. And yourself?” My voice sounds confident, which surprises the hell out of me. I glare back at him, and he smirks. My stomach is roiling with a rush of adrenaline. It’s a bitter cocktail of hatred, fury and fear.

  “Very well. I’ve been teaching in London for the last two years,” he says pointedly, “and working on my new novel, which I think you’ll appreciate.” A shadow seems to cross his face, and I shiver. “This is my new protegée, Briget. She’s working on a brilliant book right now. It’s fabulous. Similar to your novel, but with more depth.”

  Ah, he’s here to insult me.

  Turning to Briget, I ask, “Has he told you what he’ll want for his services?” I really don’t want to mess with this guy, but he’s being such an arrogant prick, and the words are out of my mouth before I can stop myself.

  Brigit toys with a lock of her short black hair as she appraises me.

  Wheeler’s eyes harden. I never noticed how cold his eyes were until it was almost too late.

  “Well, this has been lovely,” he says, breaking the silence. “It’s good to see you. You should come by during office hours so we can… catch up.” His eyes narrow on me as he speaks, and I can’t fight the chill that crawls over my skin. Then he puts his hand on the girl’s back and ushers her away.

  I blink several times to clear my blurring vision.

  “What the hell is he thinking?” Harper whispers as we watch them disappear out the back of the cafeteria.

  I don’t know. And that scares the hell out of me.

  * * *

  When we get back to our apartment, I beeline it to my room and change into a pair of sweats and a tank top. It’s been half an hour, and I’m still trembling.

  I trudge into the living room and am surprised to see Ryan and Gavin on the couch. Jenna is in Ryan’s lap, and Dani is fiddling with the TV.

  “I didn’t know you guys were here.” God, I really need to be more observant. I would have put on more clothes, I think, noticing my hot pink bra strap hanging off my shoulder. I have my roommates to thank for my sudden increase in sexy underwear. That candy necklace game on my birthday got me one big-ass box of Victoria’s Secret.

  Shrugging up the strap, I return to my room and throw on a flannel shirt, but my hands are still shaking too badly to button it up. I give up and walk back out.

  “Why is everyone upset?” Ryan asks.

  “How do you know we’re upset?” Harper, our in-house shrink, is always curious to see how someone’s brain works.

  “Because you told Jenna you wanted to do facials, and you have an armload of girlie comfort food. Chips and queso, right?”

  “Damn it, he’s good,” Harper mutters, taking the cheese out of the convenience store bag and popping it into the microwave. “We had a rough night. We ran into Professor Dickhead, and he tried to talk to Clementine.”

  Ryan’s brows knit on his forehead. “But doesn’t she have a restraining order on him? Can he do that?”

  I rub my throbbing temple. “Guys, no one cares about this crap. Let’s change the subject.”

  “I care.” Gavin’s voice cuts through the awkward silence. “What happened? Who’s this guy with the restraining order?”

  “I’ll explain,” Jenna says, sensing my discomfort. She looks to me to make sure I’m okay with this, and I shrug.

  She takes a deep breath as though she’s trying to decide where to start. “Clem was in Professor Wheeler’s writing class freshman year, and he helped her edit her first book that fall. He was great at first, really encouraging and positive. But we all know Clementine is beautiful, and he fell for her, hard.” Ugh. Must she embellish? “But our girl wasn’t interested. She thought of him as a friend, a mentor. When he wouldn’t take no for an answer, he started stalking her—waiting outside her dorm at night and lurking in the alley. Totally creepy shit.”

  I sit in a chair and try to focus on my breathing to stave off a panic attack.

  Jenna waves her hand. “So this went on for a while until one night when he decided he had waited long enough.”

  Swallowing back the lump in my throat, I look down at my fuzzy socks, carefully avoiding Gavin’s stare.

  Jenna sighs with relief. “Fortunately, Wheeler didn’t rape her, but she got pretty banged up. By the time the cops got there, he was gone. The worst part is that police said they couldn’t do anything but put a restraining order on the asshole because Wheeler claimed he was with his parents, who vouched for his whereabouts. Without any evidence, the dean’s hands were tied too. Wheeler’s family basically built that new wing on the library, and you know how things like that always work out. He was on sabbatical for a while, but just returned this fall. And the restraining order has expired, but since he has no criminal record and has exhibited ‘good behavior,’ the cops w
on’t renew it.”

  Hearing Jenna tell it with her Southern drawl, it almost doesn’t sound that bad. I lift my head, and all of my friends are staring at me. Okay. Judging by everyone’s expressions, I guess it does sound bad.

  “Don’t look at me like that. I’m fine.” I blow a strand of loose hair out of my face.

  “Your parents must have been so upset,” Dani says.

  I don’t miss the look that Harper and Jenna share.

  Laughing weakly, I shake my head. “My parents didn’t give a shit. I doubt they even listened to my messages.”

  Gavin runs his teeth over his bottom lip as he studies me. “Is that why you stopped coming to class? Just before winter break of our freshman year?”

  I nod slowly, my eyes dropping to the floor. “I took a leave of absence.”

  “Is it hard, seeing him around campus?” Dani asks quietly.

  “He avoided me that spring when I came back, thanks to the restraining order, and then he left to teach abroad. This is the first time I’ve seen him since freshman year.”

  “And he waltzed up to you tonight like nothing happened?” Ryan asks, incredulous.

  “Pretty much.”

  “You know what I can’t stand about him?” Harper asks. “How he smells. It’s kind of a sweet cologne.” She makes a gagging sound.

  “It’s not a cologne. He smokes clove cigarettes. Even if I had liked him, that would’ve been a deal-breaker.”

  Harper says, “Oh, and he has a new girl. She’s young. Looks like a freshman. Of course.” The more Harper talks about it, the more pissed she sounds. As my roommate that spring, if anyone remembers what I went through, the nightmares I had, she would. “Someone should warn her that he’s a psycho.”

  “I thought you didn’t like to toss around that word,” I say. She’s always lecturing us about casually using clinical terminology.

  “In this case, it’s probably accurate.”

  * * *

  Gavin hugs me on the way out. As I pull away, he stops me, his hands on my shoulders. “You shouldn’t run at night. It’s not safe. Promise me you won’t do that.” I roll my eyes. “Clementine…” He says it slowly, like a warning.

  “Fine. I won’t run at night.” Jeez.

  He still has his hands on my arms, and I’m waiting for him to let go. Instead, he pulls me to him and kisses my forehead.

  “I’ll call you tomorrow,” he says, turning to walk out behind Ryan, who has decided to get Jenna a Taser because Wheeler has him freaked out.

  When I turn around, Jenna, Harper and Dani are staring at me.

  “So, are you guys, like, dating?” Dani asks.

  “Yeah, I’m kind of curious myself,” Jenna says, smiling.

  I don’t know the answer. He did say he was only helping me write my story.

  “We’re just friends.” That’s the safe answer.

  Jenna scoffs. “Girl, what I saw was not a ‘just friends’ kind of look.” Fanning herself, she waits for me to explain.

  I follow the grain of the hard wood floor with my toe. “We’ve been studying together. That’s it.”

  Jenna grabs my arm and yanks me to the couch, dragging me down to sit next to her. “We need details, Clem. You’ve been holding out on us.”

  Harper and Dani scurry over to join us.

  “There isn’t too much to tell. We’ve gone climbing a couple of times, and he’s given me some suggestions on my story.”

  “You showed him your writing?” Harper looks shocked. She knows I don’t show anyone my work, especially early drafts.

  I nod, and her eyes widen.

  “I only showed him that draft I turned in to our romance class. He’s a writer, too, and since he works as an RA, he’s had some really good insights into some of my plot issues.” The girls look confused, so I explain the general premise of my book. When I’m done, their faces are still scrunched.

  “But you’ve also stayed over there, too, right? What, twice?” Harper asks.

  “And don’t forget the night he stayed here.” Taking count, Jenna is holding up three fingers.

  “Before you get all excited, we literally just sleep.”

  Harper and Jenna look at each other and laugh as though I’m lying.

  “Why do I get the sense there’s something you’re not telling us?” Jenna asks. “Come on, Clem, spill it! I can see it in your face. You’re a terrible liar.”

  Since I don’t date, I don’t ever have any juicy stories. The last time I talked about kissing a boy, it was Daren. And the friend in whom I confided, Veronica, was busy hooking up with him behind my back. I swallow back a rush of unexpected emotion and try to explain what’s going on with Gavin.

  “Okay, something did happen last night, but when you hear the whole story, you’ll see he was merely helping me with my assignment.”

  Now they’re totally confused. I reach for a cold nacho and reluctantly share how he was helping me connect with my characters and get into their mindset when we made out in the laundry room. I add that when he asked me to go climbing with him he had emphasized as friends.

  “Holy shit, Clementine.” Jenna jumps up off the couch and does a little victory dance like she crossed the finish line of a race. “He likes you! Like, a lot!”

  “No, he doesn’t,” I snort.

  “Gavin Murphy has a legion of groupies who come to the shows, and he’s never really shown any interest in them. But when he talks to you, he looks like a starving man eyeballing a steak.” She stares at me as she taps her chin with one finger. “It probably doesn’t hurt that he saw you naked.” She giggles and shimmies suggestively.

  “What? When did this happen?” Harper asks.

  Shooting Jenna a dirty look for bringing it up only makes her laugh harder.

  I blow out a breath. “It wasn’t deliberate. I walked out of the shower and nearly killed myself on Ryan’s skateboard, and my towel fell. And I wasn’t completely naked. I was wearing boy shorts.”

  Talking about all of this makes my heart race, and I start biting my nails.

  Harper grabs my other hand. “Okay, guys, let’s leave Clem alone. She looks like she wants to crawl under the couch.” When I glance up, she’s is grinning. “Relax. He seems like a great guy, and you’re right. You guys are probably just friends. This is good!”

  She’s in clinician mode. I can tell by her voice that she’s trying to not scare me.

  It’s too late.

  -

  10 -

  Popping a pill is so tempting.

  My hands shake for an hour after I get up on Sunday morning. I haven’t had a nightmare in over a year, but seeing Wheeler yesterday has churned up my worst fears: his hands tightening on me, those words he growled in my ear, the terror that I wouldn’t be able to stop him. And the worst part—not being able to scream. Instead, the panic coils in my gut, writhing like a snake that can’t strike.

  The pills help me relax and detach, but I want to get there on my own. The downside of the meds is my lack of feeling, how numb they make me. Maybe it’s good to feel, even if it’s to be afraid. At least it’s real.

  I lace up my tennis shoes because, if I’m not going to medicate, only one thing can help me off the ledge. And like a soothing balm, each stride helps melt the fear.

  In the afternoon, as I’m stepping into my room after my hour-long run, my phone rings.

  “What are you doing?” Gavin doesn’t say hi. I don’t know why, but this makes me laugh.

  “I’m waiting for Harper to get home so she can help me with some homework.” As I kick off my shoes, I reach into my drawers to grab a change of clothes.

  “What do you have to do?”

  “You had to ask.” I groan. “Don’t laugh, okay?”

  “I won’t. What is it?”

  “Applied math.” I’m waiting for him to make fun of me. After all, I’m a senior taking a freshman course.

  “You’re in luck. I’m great at math. I’ll help you with math if you proof
my new article.”

  “That doesn’t seem like a very fair tradeoff. You haven’t seen how much I suck at math.”

  “It’s okay. I help all the kids on my floor. We’ll pretend it’s another scenario in your book.”

  Warmth spreads in my belly.

  “Ah, so my book boyfriend is coming over to tutor me? Why didn’t you say so?”

  He’s grinning. I can tell. “Exactly. So it’s almost as though you don’t need the help at all. Your character does. What’s her name anyway?”

  “Samantha. The RA is Andrew.”

  “I think I should get a hotter name, like Ian or Aiden.”

  “Hold the phone, Romeo,” I snort. “These are fictional characters. I happen to get inspired by life, but it’s not like I directly transcribe my conversations with people straight into my stories.”

  “Whatever you say, Clementine. Only make sure you include the part where you say I kiss like a rock star.” He’s laughing. Grateful he can’t see my embarrassment, I drop my head into my hand. “I’ll be over in ten.”

  “No, give me half an hour. I just ran and need to take a shower.”

  “See, that’s too much information. All your book boyfriend is going to do is fantasize about that for the next thirty minutes. That and those little black shorts.”

  My face must be scarlet right now. “What black shorts?”

  “The ones you were wearing when you flashed me.”

  I nearly drop the phone.

  “You make it sound like I did that on purpose. I didn’t know you were in my apartment. I tripped. The towel fell.”

  “And it fucking made my year, darlin’.” He pauses, and I don’t have anything to say to fill the silence. “I’ll see you in half an hour.”

  When we get off the phone, I’m grinning like an idiot.

  * * *

  Gavin follows me to get my books. “You unpacked,” he says as his eyes scan my room. The boxes are gone, finally.

  I glance around, hoping I didn’t leave anything embarrassing out. My bed is made, my purple comforter tucked under two down pillows. On my beech desk sits my laptop, a small stack of textbooks, a short silver vase with a handful of blue and black pens, and a framed photo taken last winter of Jenna, Harper and me, arm in arm as we huddle in the snow.