Crashing Into You (11 page)

I slugged him, playfully, and headed toward the
library exit. He followed me outside.
  

“I don’t know, Sydney,” Lukas said. “That guy… he
seems like trouble.”

“Trouble? What are you talking about? Evan's sweet.”

“He's hot, I'm not denying that, but... I'm not sure
if I trust him.”

I hated when he tried to play father to me, like I
needed protection. “How would you know? You've barely said two words to him.”

“It’s just a hunch, I guess.”

I shook my head and almost hit him a second time, not
for being gross, but for being annoying. “Give me some actual proof that he's
not a good guy for me, and maybe I’ll believe you.”

“Well...” Lukas shrugged. “He does have a
girlfriend
.”

I clicked my tongue. “Yeah, don't remind me.”

When we departed awhile later, I checked my phone. It
was after midnight. If I didn't get to sleep soon, I'd wake up halfway through
tomorrow's final.

I hurried upstairs, and entered my room. It was super
dark inside. I wanted to call out Melanie’s name, but I didn’t want to wake
her. I looked up at the top bunk. Squinted. Was she there?

I leaned against her desk and stood up on my
tippie-toes. I didn't see all of her, but I caught a glimpse of her feet.

Melanie was back.

I crawled into bed and was fast asleep in a matter of
minutes.

Evan was in my dream again. We were sitting on the
warm sand at Venice Beach, just the two of us, holding hands, staring out at
the Pacific Ocean. His hair was shorter, and his body was tanner than normal. He
kissed me on the cheek, and stroked his fingers against my arm. He reached
behind my back and undid my bra. He got on top of me, kissed me hard on the
lips, then ran his tongue all the way down to my belly button.

“You're so good… Evan…”

I closed my eyes, clasped my hands against the back of
his head, and drew him farther down.

“Oh,
whoa
.”
I leaned back against the sand. “Oh my God… that feels... that feels so—”

I stopped. So did Evan. He came up for air, and
glanced past my left shoulder. I looked back. Something was approaching. Was it
a person? A dog? No.

It was a skunk.

I stared at it. “What the
hell
?”

The skunk bent down, lifted its tail, and sprayed.

It was so vivid, so real, that when I awoke and sat up
in bed, I had to slap my face twice. The smell of the skunk lingered, even as I
stood up, even as I walked to the other side of the room. I clenched my nose
with my fingers. The odor didn’t dissipate until I stepped into the bathroom
and shut the door behind me. I checked my phone. 7:30 AM.

“Shit,” I said.

I jumped in the shower, and rushed to get ready. I
threw on whatever clothes I had handy, brushed my hair for about five seconds,
and grabbed my binder. I opened the door to leave—but then stopped.

I turned around. Sniffed. The smell was still there. Was
it a dead mouse? Inside the wall or something? I shuddered, slammed the door,
and ran down the hallway.

In all my rushing, I still barely made it to my ethics
final. I found my seat and didn’t even have time to catch my breath, when Mr.
Cutler dropped the tome of a test on my desk. Eight essay topics, and we had to
choose five of them. I picked the one that looked easiest, and started to
write.

As hard as I tried to stay focused, however, the beach
dream with Evan wouldn’t leave my mind. It had started off so great.

But what was up with that skunk?

Chapter 13

Three down, two to go.

Wednesday’s 8 AM final for
History of Africa was guaranteed to be the worst one yet, so I scarfed down a
ham sandwich in the Lair and returned to the library for another round of
studying. I was so close to done with the semester I could almost taste the tap
water at my new Culver City apartment. Three more days. I kept repeating it in
my head, over and over. When I wasn’t learning about iron ore and apartheid, of
course.

History of Africa was the one
class Lukas and I shared (we had sociology together, too, but on different
days, annoyingly), so I was grateful when he showed up in the early afternoon to
work with me.

“Did you just come from a
final?” I asked. “You didn’t text me back.”

“Yeah, Sound Design. The test
was like a thousand questions long, I didn’t tell you about that?”

“No, uh-uh.”

“It sucked. Probably still
more fun though than this Africa test is gonna be.”

I laughed, and continued
filling out my index cards. “I don’t think a final, in any shape or form, is
supposed to be fun, Lukas.”

He pursed his lips for a
moment, then shot me a big grin. “I can't believe this is my last one.”

“Really? Already? I’m so
jealous. I think I should just skip my stupid Gender Communications final on
Friday, and declare tomorrow the official start of summer.”

“Yeah? You worn out?”

“We shouldn’t have studied so
late last night, I’m exhausted.” I pushed the binder over to Lukas, and pointed
at the terms and definitions on page two. “So can you start making flashcards
of these, and I’ll do the ones on the first page, and then we can quiz each
other—”

My phone started ringing. I
ignored it for a second, and put an asterisk near the section I wanted Lukas to
look over. But the phone kept buzzing, a third time, a fourth time.

“Hold on,” I said. I pulled
my phone out of my pocket and looked at the Caller ID. I didn’t answer right
away. I just stared.

“What?” Lukas asked, looking
up. “Who is it?”

“It’s… uhh… Evan.” He never
called me. Ever. I didn't even think he had my number.
 

Lukas motioned his head
toward the phone. “Well, aren’t you gonna pick it up?”

I nodded, and pressed the
phone against my ear. “Hello? Evan?”

“Hey Sydney.” His voice sounded
deeper than usual, like he had spent the morning puffing away on cigarettes. He
also called me Sydney, and not Syd, never a good sign.

“Hey. How are you?”

“I'm, uhh...” he said. “It’s
Melanie.”

“Melanie? What about her?”
Again he used the full name.

“She’s not answering her
phone.”

I glanced at Lukas. He
pretended to be studying, like he was not interested in our conversation. But I
knew he totally was.

“Well, maybe try her again?”
I said, like a moron.

“I’ve called her a hundred
times today. I thought she was just ignoring me, but now I’m getting worried. I
haven’t talked to her since Saturday.”

“Since
Saturday
?” My jaw dropped a little. “But... isn't today your
anniversary?”

Lukas finally looked up. Closed
his binder. “What’s going on?” he whispered. I shook my head, and turned my
chair around.
 

“Yeah, but she hasn’t gotten
back to me,” Evan said. “I’ve made all these plans, and she’s not picking up
her phone. Have you seen her?”

“I haven't been in the dorm
much these last few days, but yeah, I saw her last night. She was asleep when I
got back from studying. Maybe go check in the room? See if she's still there?”

“Oh, thank
God
.” He let out a noticeable sigh on
the other end. “Oh, that's such a relief to hear. Thank you.”

“Sure, no problem.” He was
acting so weird. What had gotten into him?

“Are you in the library?”

“Yeah, why?” I hated that I
frequented the place so much it was an easy guess.

“I know you’re probably busy,
but can you come unlock your dorm for me?” he asked. “I don't have a key.”

I didn’t have to think it
over. “Yeah, sure. I’ll be right out.” I hung up. Looked at Lukas.
  

“What’d he say?” he asked.

I got up, slid my chair in.
“Can you watch my stuff? I’ll be right back.”

“Yeah, but... wait…” I
started walking away. Didn’t look back. “Sydney, where are you going?”

I rushed through the book
aisles, down the stairs, out the main door. I turned to my left. Didn’t see
him.

“Sydney!” Evan shouted, from
my right. As soon as he saw me, he started running.

“Evan! Hey!” He slowed down
when he reached the library, then stopped to catch his breath. “Is everything
all right?”

“No, I don’t think so,” he
said. “I’m
this
close to calling the
police.”

“The police? Why?”

He coughed, and brought his
head back up. “This isn't like her. Going days without returning my calls. I'm
scared.”

“Evan, calm down,” I said.
“I’m sure this is just some misunderstanding.”

We walked down the sidewalk, and
headed up the hill toward the sophomore dorms.

“She’s never just ignored me
like this, not once,” he said. “She knew our anniversary was tonight. Good or
bad, she should have told me if she wanted to cancel it. If she wanted to break
up with me.”

“You really think she wants
to break up with you? How do you know?”

“I don't... I just... she
might be,” he said. “I feel like I don't know anything anymore.”

I searched for excuses. “Maybe
her phone died.”

“Her phone didn’t die. What,
for three days? Come on.”

“Maybe she’s been busy with
finals. There’s not good reception in the library, maybe that’s why you can’t
reach her?”

“She’s not in the library.
Melanie never goes to the library.”

“Maybe there was an
emergency? Something to make her leave campus?”

He shook his head, over and
over again. “No. Something’s going on. I need to get in the room. See if she's
still there. Or if she left me a note or something. You said you saw her,
right?”

“Yeah, last night, before I
went to bed. She was asleep. She hasn't disappeared or anything, Evan, don't
worry. You certainly don't need to call the
police
.”
We reached the top of the hill and took the last steps toward McCarthy Hall.
“Wait, so all this time and you didn't think to go to the room and knock on the
door?”

“Of course I did. Once yesterday,
and twice this morning. There was no answer.” He pushed his hands against his
neck, like he wanted to cry, or start screaming, I couldn't tell which. “I went
and talked to Lea, Daisy, Kendra. Anyone I could think of who she could have
been with these last couple days. Nobody’s seen her since Saturday night.
Well... nobody except you.”

When we reached the front of
the building, I dug my student ID out of my pocket and slipped it through the
lock. “This is ridiculous,” I said, and opened the door. “I don’t know why
she’s doing this to you, Evan.”

“I don't either. I swear, if
I can't find her by tonight...”

“We'll find her before then,
all right? I promise. I won't leave your side until we do.”

“Thanks,” he said, and waved me
to the stairwell.

We ran up to the third floor
and headed down the hallway. I slipped my ID through the slot, but it blinked
red. I tried it again. Red.

“Goddammit,” I said. I pulled
against the handle, but the door was locked. I slipped the card in a third
time. Red again. I tried it a fourth time, a fifth time. Why did it always take
me so long to get in the room? It was like the universe was willing the door
not to open.

“Here, let me try,” Evan
said, and he grabbed the card from me. He slipped it in and out, real fast. Green.

“Guess you have the magic
touch,” I said.

“Guess so.” He pushed the
door open.

I took only two steps, before
I almost collapsed from the stench. I struck my hands against the wall and
hunched over. “Oh… oh Jesus…”

Evan brought his hand to his
mouth, pinched his nose with his thumb and index finger. “What is that
smell
?” he asked. “Is that coming from
the bathroom?”

“No, it can’t be.” I pinched
my nose, too, and glanced, apprehensively, at the toilet. Nothing. I looked at
Evan and shrugged. “Maybe it's a dead rat in the wall?”

He shook his head, and
stepped closer to Melanie’s desk. “Melanie? You’re not in here, are you?” No
response.

I headed toward him, took
another whiff of the godawful stench. It smelled like chicken breasts left in
the back of a refrigerator two months past their expiration date, or the dead
carcass of a Mastiff I once came across in a back alley while jogging. Five
more seconds and I was going to upchuck all over the carpet, so I whirled
around and ran out of the room—and Evan followed.

We both started coughing when
we reached the hallway, and I gagged into the nearest trash can. “Oh God,” I
said. I breathed in and out, tried not to throw up. Breathing in the moldy trash
was a relief; it smelled like a newly planted pine tree compared to the stink
in my dorm room.