Close Liaisons (22 page)

“None since we’ve met,” he said, smiling. He seemed pleased by her jealousy, and Mia nearly broke down crying again. Taking a deep breath, she controlled herself with great effort. A second crying fit would be even more difficult to explain.

“Let’s go to sleep, shall we?” he suggested softly. “You still seem stressed, and you’ll probably feel better in the morning.”

Mia nodded in agreement and lay down, covering herself with the blanket. Korum followed her example, pulling her toward him until they lay in his favorite spooning position.

Against all odds, Mia drifted off to sleep as soon as she closed her eyes, feeling comforted by the heat of his body wrapped around her own.

Mia woke up on Wednesday morning with a sense of dread in her stomach.

Today she had to tell her parents that she wasn’t coming to see them on Saturday. She still hadn’t come up with a good reason to explain the delay, especially since she was supposed to start her internship at the camp on Monday.

And if Korum discovered her involvement in what was about to befall the K colonies, then it might be the last time she was speaking to her family in general. That made it even more imperative that she present an upbeat and positive image today, so as not to make her parents worry prematurely. It would be better if she left only good memories behind when she disappeared from their lives.

At that thought, stupid tears threatened again, and Mia took a deep breath to control herself. She didn’t have time for this right now; she still had to write the last paper. Although it made no sense to care about something so trivial in her precarious situation, not writing the paper would be like giving up – and some small part of Mia was still hopeful that there might be light at the end of this tunnel, that some semblance of a normal life was still possible if she made it through the next couple of weeks unscathed.

Clinging to that thought, Mia dragged herself out of bed and into the shower. Korum was nowhere to be found in the apartment, and she guessed he was off doing whatever he normally did during the day. It probably had something to do with tracking the Resistance fighters, but she had no way of knowing that for sure. Grabbing a quick breakfast, she headed to the library in the hopes that she might be better able to concentrate there.

The day was beautiful and sunny – a perfect foil for her gloomy mood. Under normal circumstances, Mia would have taken a nice lengthy walk to the library, but time was of essence and she took a cab instead. Staying at Korum’s place and eating nearly all her meals with him, Mia was flush with cash for the first time in her college career. The student grants that helped pay for tuition and books also provided a minimal allowance for food and other living expenses, but it was usually just enough for her to survive on. Eating out in restaurants or taking cabs were indulgences that Mia could not normally afford, and it was nice to be able to splurge now that she didn’t worry so much about the cost of food.

The library was a zoo. Just about every NYU student was there, frantically cramming for exams and writing papers. Of course, Mia realized, it was finals week. She should’ve just stayed in the comfortable study room Korum had set up for her, but she’d wanted to be some place where nothing reminded her of the mess that her life had become.

After wandering around for a good fifteen minutes, she finally located a soft chair that had just been vacated by a pimply red-headed boy who looked like he was all of twelve years old. Quickly occupying it before anyone else saw her prize, Mia smiled to herself. Not that she was all that old, but some of the freshmen looked ridiculously young to her these days.

Five hours later, Mia triumphantly finished the last sentence and saved her work. She still had to proofread the damn thing, but the bulk of the job was done. Gathering her things, she left the library and went to her own apartment, hoping to see Jessie and have a chance to talk to her parents.

Jessie wasn’t home when she got there, so that left only the parents. Taking a deep breath, Mia turned on her computer and prepared to be as bright and bubbly as any college student who was almost done with finals week.

“Mia! Sweetheart, how are you?” Her mom was in fine form today, her blue eyes sparkling with excitement and a huge smile on her face.

Mia grinned back at her. “I’m almost done! Just have to proofread the last paper, and then the school year is officially over for me,” said Mia, keeping her voice purposefully upbeat.

“Oh, that’s great!” her mom exclaimed. “We can’t wait to see you this weekend! Marisa and Connor are coming over on Sunday, and we’ll have a big dinner. I’ll make all your favorites. I already bought some eggs and even a bit of goat cheese –”

“Mom,” interrupted Mia, feeling like she was dying a little inside, “there’s something I need to tell you . . .”

Her mom paused for a second, looking puzzled. “What is it, honey?”

Mia took a deep breath. This was not going to be easy. “One of my professors asked me for a big favor this week,” she said slowly, having come up with a semi-plausible story in the last few minutes. “There’s a program here at NYU where psychology students go and spend some time with disadvantaged high school kids from some of the worst neighborhoods . . .”

“Uh-huh,” said her mom, a small frown appearing on her face.

“It’s a great program,” lied Mia. “These kids don’t really have anyone to help them figure out the next steps, whether they should go to college or not, how they should apply if they decide to go . . . And you know, that’s exactly what I want to do – provide that type of counseling . . .”

Her mom’s frown got a little deeper.

Mia hurried with her explanation. “Well, I didn’t know about this program before, but I was chatting with my professor this week and mentioned my interest in counseling to him. And that’s when he told me about this program, and that he was actually desperately looking for a volunteer to help out for a week or two this summer –”

“But you’re flying home on Saturday,” her mom said, looking increasingly unhappy. “When would you be able to do this?”

“Well, that’s the thing,” said Mia, hating herself for lying like this, “I don’t think I can come home this weekend, not if I do this program –”

“What! What do you mean, you can’t come home this weekend?” Her mom appeared livid now. “You already have a ticket and everything! And what about your camp internship? Aren’t you supposed to start that on Monday?”

“I already spoke with the camp director,” lied Mia again. “He’s fine with pushing back my start date by two weeks. I explained the whole situation, and he was very understanding. And my professor said he’ll reimburse me for the cost of the ticket and even buy me another one to make up for this –”

“Well, that’s the least he could do! What about the money you were going to earn during those two weeks of your internship?” her mom said angrily. “And what about the fact that we haven’t seen you since March? How could he ask you to do something like that, so last-minute?”

“Mom,” said Mia in a pleading tone, “it’s a great opportunity for me. This is exactly what I want to do career-wise, and it’ll really boost my chances of getting into a good grad school. Plus, the professor said he’ll write me a glowing recommendation if I do this – and you know how important those are for grad school applications . . .”

Her mom was blinking rapidly, and there was a suspicious glimmer in her eyes. “Of course,” she said, a wealth of disappointment in her voice, “I know that stuff is important . . . We were just so looking forward to seeing you this Saturday, and now this –”

Every word her mom said was like a knife scraping at Mia’s insides. “I know, mom, I’m really sorry about this,” she said, blinking to hold back her own tears. “I’ll see you in a couple of weeks, okay? It won’t be so bad, you’ll see . . .”

Her mom sniffed a little. “So no family dinner this Sunday, I guess.”

Mia shook her head with regret. “No . . . but we’ll have one in two weeks, okay? I’ll cook and everything –”

“Oh, please, Mia, you couldn’t cook to save your life!” her mom said irately, but a tiny smile appeared on her face. “I’ve never met anyone who couldn’t manage to boil water –”

“I can boil water now,” said Mia defensively. “I’ve been living on my own for the last three years, you know, and I can even make rice –”

The tiny smile became a full-blown grin. “Wow, rice? That
is
progress,” her mom said with barely contained laughter. “I honestly don’t know what you’re going to do when you meet someone . . .”

“Oh, mom, not this again,” groaned Mia.

“It’s true, you know. Men still like it when a woman can make a good meal, and keep the house –”

“And do laundry, and be a general domestic slave, and yadda yadda yadda,” finished Mia, rolling her eyes. Her mom could be amazingly old-fashioned sometimes.

“Exactly. Mark my words, unless you find some guy who likes to cook, you’ll be stuck eating takeout for the rest of your life,” her mom said ominously.

Mia shrugged, biting the inside of her cheek to avoid bursting into semi-hysterical laughter. The irony of it was that she had actually found such a guy – except he wasn’t human. She wondered what her mom would say if she told her about Korum.
He’s great: he loves to cook and even does laundry for us both. Just one tiny issue – he’s a blood-drinking alien.
No, that probably wouldn’t go over well at all.

“Mom, don’t worry about me, okay? Everything will be fine.” At least Mia sincerely hoped that was the case. “We’ll see each other soon, and maybe I’ll really try to learn how to cook this summer. How about that?” Mia gave her mom a big smile, trying to prevent any more lectures.

Her mom shook her head in reproach and sighed. “Sure. I’ll tell your dad what happened. He’ll be so disappointed . . .”

Mia felt terrible again. “Where is he?” she asked, wanting to speak to her father as well.

“He’s out getting the car fixed. The damn thing broke again. We should really get a new one . . . but maybe next year.”

Mia nodded sympathetically. She knew her parents’ financial situation was not the best these days. Her mom was currently between jobs. As an elementary school teacher, she was usually in demand. However, the private school where she had taught for the past eight years had closed recently, resulting in a number of teachers losing their positions and all applying for the same few openings in the local public schools. Her dad – a political science professor at the local community college – was now supporting the family on his one salary, and they had to be careful with bigger expenses, such as a new car. In general, her family, like many other middle-class Americans with 401(k) retirement plans, had suffered in the K Crash – the huge stock market crash that took place when the Krinar had arrived. At one point, the Dow had lost almost ninety percent of its value, and it was only about a year ago that the markets had recovered fully.

“All right,” said Mia, “I’ll try to log back in later, see if I can reach dad.”

“Call Marisa too,” her mom said. “I know she was really looking forward to seeing you on Sunday.”

Mia nodded. “I will, definitely.”

Her mom sighed again. “Well, I guess we’ll talk to you soon then.”

“I love you, mom,” said Mia, feeling like her chest was getting squeezed in a vise. “I hope you know that. You and dad are the best parents ever.”

“Of course,” her mom said, looking a bit puzzled. “We love you too. Come home soon, okay?”

“I will,” said Mia, blowing an air kiss toward the computer screen, and ended the conversation.

Her sister was next. For once, she was actually reachable on Skype.

“Hey there, baby sis! What’s this text I just got from mom about you not coming home?”

Mia hadn’t seen her sister since she got pregnant, and she was surprised to see Marisa looking pale and thin, instead of having that pregnancy glow she’d always heard about.

“Marisa!” she exclaimed. “What’s going on with you? You don’t look well. Are you sick?”

Her sister made a face. “If you can call having a baby sickness, then yes. I’m throwing up constantly,” she complained. “I just can’t keep anything down. I’ve actually lost five pounds since I got pregnant –”

Mia gasped in shock. Five pounds was a lot for someone her sister’s size. While a little taller and curvier than Mia, Marisa was also small-boned, with her normal weight hovering somewhere around 110-115 pounds. Now she looked too thin, her cheekbones overly prominent in her usually pretty face.

“– and my doctor is not happy about that.”

“Of course, he’s not happy! Did he say what you should do?”

Marisa sighed. “He said to get more rest and try not to stress. So I am working from home today, preparing my lessons for next week, and they got someone to substitute for me for a few days.”

“Oh my God, you poor thing,” said Mia sympathetically. “That sucks. Can you eat anything, like maybe crackers or some broth?”

“That’s what I’m subsisting on these days. Well, that and pickles.” Marisa gave her a wan smile. “For some reason, I can’t stop eating those Israeli pickles – you know, the little crunchy ones?”

Mia nodded, stifling a grin. Her sister had always been a pickles fan, so it really wasn’t surprising she was going pickle-crazy during her pregnancy.

“So anyway, enough about my stomach issues . . . What’s going on with you? Why aren’t you coming this Saturday? We were all ready and excited to come over, see you and the parents –”

Mia took a deep breath and repeated the whole story to Marisa. She was getting so good at lying that she could almost believe herself. Maybe she should think about starting such a program at NYU next year – if she were still alive and attending school at that time, of course.

Her sister listened to everything with a vaguely disbelieving expression. And then, being Marisa, she asked, “Is the professor cute?”

To her horror, Mia felt her cheeks turning pink. “What? No! He’s old and has kids and stuff!”

“Uh-huh,” said Marisa. “So I’m supposed to believe you would be willing to do something like this at the request of an ugly professor? Just to pad your resume a little?” She shook her head slightly. “Nope, I just don’t see it.” A sly smile appearing on her face, she asked, “Just how old is old?”

Mia cursed her poor acting skills. Now Marisa would probably go blabbing to their parents that Mia had a crush on her professor. She tried to imagine liking Professor Dunkin that way and shuddered. Between his receding hairline and the yellowish spittle that frequently appeared in the corners of his mouth when he spoke, he was probably one of the least attractive individuals she’d ever met.

“Old,” Mia said firmly. “And unattractive.”

Marisa grinned, undeterred. “Okay, then, who is he?” she persisted. “I know you, baby sis . . . and you’re hiding something. If it’s not the old and unattractive professor you’re staying in New York for, then who is it?”