Taken In by the Pack: Second Chances (3 page)

On the third day, though, my life had really crumbled.

When I tried his cell at lunch, a prim voice informed me that the number was no longer in service. I panicked. When I went to his house after school that day, there had been a ‘for rent’ sign in the yard. I had collapsed right then and there; a neighbor who recognized me called my mom to come get me.

I had missed the remainder of that week from school, and it was weeks before I had regained any semblance of normalcy.

❖ ❖ ❖

Clearly, I wasn’t going to get any reading done tonight. I replaced the bookmark right where it had been, and set it on my dresser/nightstand. While I was leaned over, I went ahead and switched off the bedside lamp, and nestled in between the sheets.

I closed my eyes and tried to sleep, but my mind wouldn’t shut up.

As if all the painful details of that horrible time in high school weren’t enough, now my memory was supplying me with even older, hazier events. The edges were worn, the details lost, but I remembered the broad strokes, I remembered how it had felt.

The comparisons between those older memories with what Bryson had done to me were uncomfortable to put it mildly.

I had barely been five at the time. My mom had come late to get me from school. Her eyes had been red and puffy; that detail I remembered clearly, because I’d asked her if she was sick. “No, baby, I’m not sick,” she’d answered with a little half-sob half-laugh. “We’re gonna go spend some time at grandma’s, okay?”

That had excited me, until we got to the house for me to grab my things.

The house was a disaster; things were strewn everywhere, things were broken. As I went in my room, I saw in Mommy and Daddy’s room… the closet was open, half empty; Daddy’s dresser drawers were all open and empty, too. I had started to be afraid, then, and hurried to get my things.

When I had gotten back to the living room, my mother was sitting on the couch, face in her hands, crying softly. I’d given her a tight hug, and she hugged me back, crying in earnest for a minute.

It wasn’t until years later that I understood what had really happened that day.

The night before, my father had gone out ‘drinking with the boys’. The next morning, he told my mother that he ‘had to leave’. She’d assumed he meant for a few hours for a job or such. She’d given him a kiss and gone out shopping as she’d planned. But when she returned, it was to what I had witnessed later that afternoon — he had packed up all his things, and left. Just gone. He left behind his wife and five year old daughter with no real warning, and no idea where he had gone.

Needless to say, it had been hard for me to trust guys most of my life.

Bryson had broken through my walls, though; he had been so sweet, and gentle, and patient. Like I said, we’d been perfect together.

Then he had done the
exact same thing
.

I’d learned my lesson. I’d never trusted another guy since. I didn’t date, not even casually. I kept almost everyone at arm’s length, or further. It just wasn’t worth it. It wasn’t worth opening yourself up, investing your emotions in someone, just for them to abandon you, to disappear and leave you broken. Better to just stay alone in the first place.

And yet… there he’d been. Unexpected, unsought, but undeniably there. He had even followed me, wanted to spend time with me (even after I tried to rebuff him).

Ugh. I needed to sleep, not keep chewing over this crap.

I rolled over with a groan, and clenched my eyes shut, because obviously that would help.
Right.

My mind kept tumbling end over end for hours, memories stinging me like a swarm of angry bees.

Chapter Two

By the next morning, I felt hardly more rested than when I’d gone to bed. Oh yes, this was just what I needed — not!

At least I managed to get to campus with plenty of time to spare. I even beat Angie to the plaza, if only by a couple of minutes.

While I was waiting, I watched all the students and professors passing by in the large courtyard. I wondered idly if I would see Bryson, but refused to let myself focus on the corner where I had spotted him the day before.

There were a number of people just hanging out in the big open area as well, of course, sitting on benches or the edges of the concrete raised flower beds. One in particular caught my eye, though, because he seemed so out of place. He was older than most of the people here, more of an age to be a professor than a student — late thirties or early forties — but he wasn’t dressed like a professor; in tatty jeans, an old t-shirt, and a black leather vest, he looked more like a biker than a teacher.
Though, those mutton chops look stodgy enough for a professor!

Not that older bikers can’t go back to school or anything, of course. It was just unusual.

Angie pulled me out of my reverie a moment later. I smiled sheepishly at her.

“Sorry about yesterday, Ang. I’ll do better today, promise.”

“Pssh. Everyone has their off days. Need my notes to copy?”

“Have I mentioned lately how much I love you?” I grinned.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. You just love me when you need to use me.” We both laughed as we headed across the plaza. We chattered happily about nothing in particular, until the professor finally called the class to order.

When the class was over, we went to one of our favorite study spots, on the lush grass under a big oak tree in one of the many mini-parks scattered around campus.

Angie handed me her notes from yesterday, and with a grateful smile, I began to copy them.

After I finished the first set, I leaned back on my arms, taking a break, looking out at the campus and the mid-day hustle and bustle. In this corner of campus, I recognized at least half of the people who went past, by sight if not by name.

My gaze focused on one particular person, sitting in front of one of the buildings not far away. It was that same incongruous-seeming man from this morning, with the overgrown sideburns. He seemed to be reading, but it just looked like a paperback rather than any kind of textbook.

For a moment, I had the ridiculous notion that he was following me.
But that’s silly
, I reassured myself.
Why would some random biker-dude be following me from class to class
?

“Hey Ang,” I spoke up after a few moments of watching him.

“Yeah?” She looked up from her book, over to me.

“Do you recognize him? That guy, hanging out in front of the computer building.” I nodded in that direction vaguely.

She looked over, scanning for a moment before settling on who I was talking about. “Oh, him… uhm… no? He seems awfully out of place, doesn’t he?”

I chuckled softly. “Exactly what I was thinking. Glad it isn’t just me.”

It was nice that my feeling was affirmed, though it left me feeling a little uneasy all the same.

❖ ❖ ❖

Since our next class wasn’t until two, we took our time, meandering across campus to get lunch. It was a lovely late spring day, just warm enough for the cutoff shorts and tee I was wearing. I tried — and mostly failed — not to think about the strange occurrences of the last two days.

“Been a weird couple of days, hasn’t it?” Angie piped up. I looked over at her, lifting a querying brow.

“You developing telepathy of something, now?” I asked her dryly.

She laughed, shaking her bushy blond hair from side to side. “Nah, just been weird.”

“You don’t know the half of it. Yesterday, after I left, Bryson
followed
me, and just sat down and had dinner with me without so much as a by-your-leave. Then didn’t really say or do much of anything. It was bizarre.” I didn’t even mention the coffee shop in between; that was just
too
weird.

All the same, she gaped at me, her steps slowing. “Are you serious? Girl, that ain’t cool.”

“Yeah, no kidding. It was kinda creepy.”

“Just ‘kinda’?” Angie snorted softly, implying that was a vast understatement.

It took me an inordinate amount of time to decide what to eat at lunch. I usually just grabbed a salad, but all I could think about when I looked at them was last night at the restaurant.

I finally settled on soup and a half sandwich. We took our trays outside to eat since it was such a pretty day.

While we sat, eating and chatting about nothing in particular, a couple of guys came up. They were friends of Angie’s, or at least the brown-haired one, Josh, was; I hadn’t had the chance to really get to know him, but I knew she’d been crushing on him something awful.

“Hey ladies, how’s it going?” asked Josh, bending in to give Angie a half-hug, which she returned happily.

“Hey, Josh! It’s going okay, how about you guys?”

“Great!” he replied, seeming wholly enthusiastic. It was mildly jolting to realize that not everyone was experiencing the peculiarity I had in the last two days.

“So, listen, we’re gonna be having a bonfire out at Troy’s place Saturday night. You girls want to come join us?”

Angie’s eyes lit up. I’d heard her mention Josh before, she totally had the hots for him. She was no less enthusiastic than he had been with her affirmative, before looking to me questioningly, as though it didn’t occur to her at first that I might have a different opinion.

I chuckled and shrugged a bit. “Sure, why not? Could be fun.” Josh’s ginger companion smiled at me winsomely.

“Excellent!” Josh exclaimed. He was unpleasantly exuberant, I decided. People that boisterous just grated on my nerves. “Can’t wait to see you two there! You know how to get there, right?”

When I nodded, he grinned and gave a thumbs up. He kissed Angie on the forehead, and patted her shoulder, before they continued on their way.

Ang was all but vibrating in her seat, and after the two boys went inside and the door shut, she let out a high-pitched little squeal of excitement. I winced playfully and laughed.

“I take it you’re happy,” I drawled.

“Yes! Oh-em-GEE! This is gonna be so great! Oh, we
have
to go shopping, I need something new to wear!”

I laughed again, shaking my head. “You are so adorable. After classes this evening?”

“Yes!” she squeaked, bouncing in her seat. I rolled my eyes, picking up my bowl to finish off my soup, but truth be told I was rather looking forward to it myself. It had been too long since I had treated myself to buying anything new, and this seemed like as good an excuse as any.

Angie, of course, spent the rest of the afternoon as bouncy as a bunny rabbit on speed; it got to the point that I seriously considered suggesting skipping our last class, but I couldn’t afford that on top of yesterday’s inattentiveness.

❖ ❖ ❖

Angie managed, somehow, not to spontaneously combust before our classes were over. Since she lived in the dorms, we just took my car and headed for the mall. It had gone rather downhill in the last few years — most malls had, from what I’ve heard — but there were still plenty of clothing stores to be had, at least.

Being a weekday afternoon, I managed to find a good spot near the food court entrance. We strolled in, laughing and cutting up, in no particular hurry.

Even though this was not the mall I had ‘grown up in’, it had a pleasant familiarity, a uniformity shared by almost all malls. It put me at ease, relaxing the knot of tension from all the oddity of the last few days.

We flitted from store to store like a pair of hyperactive hummingbirds, browsing, trying things on. Angie found at least half a dozen things she ‘just loved’, and bought most of them. I wished idly I had that kind of money to burn. I still hadn’t found anything I liked enough to spend my meager funds on, by the time we left the ninth or tenth store we’d stopped in.

As we walked out, giggling about the awkward boy who had checked us out, I caught sight of Mr. Mutton-Chops again. My feet seemed to glue themselves to the floor and I nearly stumbled.

“Adalyn? What is it?”

I nodded in the direction I was staring. “Over there, by the Sunglass Hut… isn’t that the same guy from this morning?” I almost managed to keep my voice from quavering.