Back to You (11 page)

Although my own zombie-like expression has temporarily faded, I still feel like I’m a million miles from reality. I’m worried. That sense of death, the familiar sense of blurred reality, does not return, and after a few minutes I anxiously miss it.

“Where shall we eat?”

“Wherever you want.”

She bursts out laughing.

“How about the cafeteria.”

“Ok,” I smile.

As we keep waiting in line, Jamie begins talking about Bryan, about how well he treated her when they went out. I nod along as she brags about how good-looking he is, but I don’t find him attractive even though I nod and agree. I manage to let her gush about him for the entire time we wait in the Admissions office, which distracts me from the two happy students holding hands in front of us in the line.

Something about the guy reminds me of Jason. He’s tall, slim. He has that laidback stance of guys who know they’re good-looking. I can’t decide if he is or not. Maybe my standards are too high.

However much I force myself not to think about Jason, I can’t get him off my mind. I want to clear my head from certain thoughts and the anxiety they cause. I know I can’t keep brooding over my dreams from the past. But I get irritated listening to the couple gushing about how much they love each other, and reminisce about their walks on a beach in Florida.

I resist the urge to plug my ears, and concentrate on talking with Jamie. I didn’t come to the office to hear about young love. I want to block them out, so I start to hum Vuk’s song to myself.

The line starts to go down quickly, now only a few students are ahead of us, but class has already begun, so Jamie rushes out.

Moments later, out of the blue, an enchanting, angelic voice whispers in my ear from over my shoulder.

“How are you feeling this morning?”

The voice disappears and a cold shiver runs up my neck.

“I was hoping you would come to my house,” I object somberly.

“I thought that seeing you in this office would be more… fitting, considering that it was our anniversary yesterday, and this is where we met, exactly four years and one day ago.”

“Good idea,” I whisper. “I’m feeling just fine right now, thanks to you.”

Instead of talking, he leans his face closer to mine. His lips lightly brush my ears, my jawline. I tremble. His cold breath makes my head spin.

Out of the corner of my eye, I make out his pale skin and thick, tousled hair, the color of golden chestnuts.

“Can we meet later?” I ask. Silence. He always used to come and pick me up at the end of class.

“Later?” he asks, surprised.

“Yes. I’m working today, but you can come to the library after school, ok?”

“I’ll be there if you want me to.”

“Of course I want… to see you.”

I wait for his reaction, a laugh or something to ease the tension.

“Right, ” he replies, perhaps trying to regain control. “See you in the library,” he adds, slightly frustrated, as he kisses me on the head.

Then he turns and walks with his usual grace out the door.

My turn at the help desk. The portly woman with gray hair and glasses is sitting behind it.

“How can I help you?”

“I need to make up some exams,” I inform her. She starts rifling through a precarious pile of papers on the top shelf behind her, finally pulling out the form she needs.

“Fill these out,” she says placing a stack of papers in front of me. She shows me which spaces to fill and which to leave blank, gives me a couple more documents to sign and I’m done. She then smiles at me, with a glimpse of recognition in her eyes, and, like Jeff, wishes me good luck.

I show her my most charming smile, then leave the building. More students are arriving for the second class of the day. I casually stroll along the sidewalk, following the flow of students walking around campus, before I head off to my class.

A deep sigh, then I open the door to the lecture hall. We are studying Adam Smith’s pin factory, an easy topic. I can get my head around Hegel and Marx without too much hassle too. Even if I much prefer Ricardo and Mill. It’s a welcome departure from the never-ending modern theories that fill the course curriculum.

I’m late, and Professor Keynes gives me a dirty look; he has already begun his lecture.

Jamie pays no attention as I slip into the seat next to hers. Vuk is on the other side of me, and I think about what he said. I also ponder what Jeff said about wanting me to stop hanging around Vuk, in the hope that I would get back on track. I’m planning to get home with some happy news about my social life.

I know I can’t lie… Even though I must admit that the idea of spending a fun afternoon with Jamie is appealing, Vuk would find out about it via chatterbox Jamie. Plus, Jamie’s dad, Mr. Keats, the finest poet in the whole state, is also one of the biggest tattle-tail of the regulars in Jeff’s bar. So I’m sure he would have mentioned my afternoon with Jamie to my dad. And lying is out of the question.

When the class ends, Jamie and I walk to the next class and take a seat. We have an hour’s wait before the next class begins, but I want to go over my notes right away. This’ll help ease the tension that builds up in me whenever something unpleasant is on the horizon.

I glance at Jamie, as Vuk’s music is comes through quietly from the headphones swinging hypnotically from my ears.

Earlier today, I got the impression that she wanted to tell me more about her recent date with Bryan. “Right!” I exclaim out of the blue. “Bryan Austin?” I am sure Jamie will believe my forced question is actually genuine curiosity.

She rolls her eyes and mouths a casual “Yes.”

“Who asked who out?” I ask. The question sounds rehearsed and this makes her even more diffident.

“Obviously, I called him.” She grins. “I insisted, and he couldn’t find a polite way to say no.”

She seems eager to talk about it, so I jump up at the chance to fake some interest. “Where did he take you?”

“To The Rise, the bar in Boston he works in.”

“Since when do you like disco music?”

“I dunno,” she replies. “A while, I guess.”

“Maybe since Bryan works there?”

“To tell the truth, yes.” She shrugs.

“Do you like him?”

“Sure.”

My questions haven’t set off her usual machine-gun fire of babble as I had hoped, so I keep trying. “Tell me all about it.”

She launches into her story and I settle comfortably into my seat, with my arms leaning on the desk. After telling me about her evening with Bryan, she begins comparing him to Josh, without even having to ask her. I know it won’t be easy getting back into talking with her openly, and asking a favor of her will be even tougher.

“Jamie?” I am so uncomfortable as I wait for her to turn her attention on me.

“What?”

I glance at my class notes. “Do you need help catching up with your statistics class? You should ask Vuk, he’s the expert,” she says.

“No…” I shake my head. “I wanted to ask if…” Last night’s phone call is fresh on my mind. “Do you wanna go to The Rise this weekend?” I hope to sound sincere. “That way you’ll be able to see Bryan again.” I don’t know what other excuse I could come up with.

She pierces me with a scrutinizing gaze.

“Are you serious, Stella?” She sounds shocked.

“Sure,” I say, innocently. I need a night out with the girls.” That’s probably true, to be honest. She’s the only girl, along with Tess, that I consider a friend. And besides, she’s the first person I turn to when I want to avoid Jeff.

I anxiously wait for her reply. I smile when the class ends five minutes earlier than planned. Professor Hallison grins, as if she knows she has done us a massive favor.

“I just thought we could… pop in, if you like,” I casually add. I’d rather dance my ass off to every single 80s song of the night than go home to Jeff, and face that I have no plans for the weekend.

Jamie seems to soften. “Well, I don’t know…” Then a smile slowly spreads across her cheeks. “That sounds like a plan!” She exclaims, enthusiastically.

“Great.” I smile at her. After all, mission accomplished. Show Vuk I am willing to go out and get Jeff off my back.

“I’ll pick you up, and we’ll go in my car.” She seems happy to be involved in any plan that involves Bryan.

“Perfect,” I say. This way, Mr. Keats would be in on it, and I wouldn’t even have had to worry about the mileage, in case Jeff took it upon himself to see how many miles I had driven.

I take my seat in my History class, glad that Professor Staffler’s lesson distracts me from Tess and Seth’s chatter. They are raving about their new hobby-hiking-to Vuk and Jamie. Between small talk and enthusiastic comments, time flies. The class comes to an end and I pack my books in my backpack.

The rest of the morning passes quickly, uneventfully. We eat in the cafeteria, but I pretty much keep myself to myself and don’t join in the conversation. The only thing I can think about is this morning’s encounter with Jason. I eat a cereal bar quickly and say goodbye to Vuk, thinking that he’ll probably skip Mr. Wilde’s Sociology class. Along with Professor Columbus, he’s my favorite lecturer. As I hurry off, Vuk promises he’ll stop by the library to say goodbye to me. As if one greeting per day was not enough.

I grab the first available seat in Wilde’s class and am engrossed by today’s topic: Basil Bernstein. Time seems to fly when we’re studying the classics in English Sociology. At the end of the hour, I talk to Amber for a few minutes, before she leaves to go to another class with Josh. Jamie smiles at me, trying to show that our past issues are water under the bridge. I eventually reciprocate the smile, and she heads out with her friend Eliot by her side.

I quickly head for the library in the majestic, historical building. I walk down the vaulted marble corridors to reach the reading room, excited to see Jason again.

I sit by the window, careful not to make any noise moving my chair. But instead of doing my Finance homework, I stare into space, without being able to concentrate. I’m anxiously waiting for him to appear, but make an effort to concentrate on my books.

I’ve missed a lot of deadlines and I’ve got a whole load of new notes to catch up on. So I decide that getting caught up must be my top priority.

Almost everything
is back to as it was before my life turned zombie-like. Since Jason disappeared, I have been slipping in and out of this hazy labyrinth, to numb the pain. Being numb at home and at work has so far proved to be a good remedy, as it has removed me from everything else.

I focus back to my books, and at this point I hear someone taking determined strides across the room. It seems that only a millisecond has passed before a familiar shadow falls across my notes, spread out across the desk.

I feel a change in the air; it has become ice cold.

Almost everything
. Something tells me that this day will end as terrible and treacherous as an ice storm.

I look up and am blinded by the light that filters through the windows behind the dark figure. He rests a hand on the corner of one of my books.

I feel as though I recognize the figure. The long fingers, like those of a pianist, the pale skin, the rosy fingernails, the composed, graceful movements. I slowly pull the book to my chest. The corner that he touched is still cold. He leans over me. “Stella?” he says, and moves aside slightly, so I can see him better. And before me appears the blond angel, so divine that he enchants me with his extraordinary perfection. He seems… happy to see me. Maybe my brain is not working properly, or my eyes don’t see the same things as the others around me see.

He gives me an odd look. “Remember?” he whispers, his voice delicate and heavenly. He’s obviously asking if my brain is working properly.

I merely grin like an idiot, pleasantly surprised. It’s absurd to feel so happy to be recognized by a vampire.

He smiles back sweetly. “I didn’t expect to see you here,” he says, relieved.

“Shouldn’t I be saying that to you?” I murmur. “I always come here.”

He gazes down the long reading room, before his eye alight on me again. “Have you seen J. by chance?” he asks cautiously. “I thought he was coming to the library.”

I’m puzzled.

“I haven’t seen J. since the night of the party.”

“But he’s seen you,” breathes Aaron patiently.

“Oh…” I am speechless, and the hairline cracks in my armor begin to weaken. What if J. really was Jason? Is Aaron referring to my earlier encounter with Jason in the office? It takes a few seconds for me to compose myself.

“This is weird, Aaron… and I’m wondering, what are you doing here?” I ask a little too eagerly, blushing. “You’re the last person I would have expected to see here, but…”

“I have something to tell you, Stella… But it may seem crazy to you.” As he looks at me a shudder jolts his body and makes me quiver too.

“What is it, Aaron?”

I don’t have to pretend in front of him, he already knows all the deepest thoughts that I cannot reveal to anyone else.

“If we could act without getting you involved, Stella, I would never expose you to danger,” he hisses a little too loudly for a quiet reading room.

My smile fades, my jaw tenses. “What is that supposed to mean? I don’t get it.” My face goes blank, while my mind whirls, trying to put his words together like the pieces of a puzzle.

He looks at me kindly and gently squeezes my shoulder. “He couldn’t live without you.. He couldn’t… go on much longer, knowing you were in danger…” He realizes how absurd all this sounds and his sentence hangs in mid-air.

For a moment, I am silent, frozen to the spot. Then the words come.

“Who, Aaron?” I ask with anticipation “What are you talking about?”

A librarian creeps up to us. “Do you need anything?” But rather than asking a question, he is reprimanding us for disturbing the quiet of the reading room.

“No, thank you,” replies Aaron politely, breaking into a smile as breathtaking as it is fake.

The librarian skulks off, bewildered.

“What did you mean?” I whisper insistently.

Aaron looks at me cautiously, then places his mouth near my ear.