Ethan catches her eye and winks again. She can feel the flush starting at the roots of her hair. Down, girl. She turns away but she feels him watching. She tries to ignore him and concentrate on taking pictures. For the first time in her life, that isn't easy.
The crowd ebbs and flows throughout the evening, and Maggie is pleased with the level of interest. As it gets late, although she is well into her second wind people start drifting away.
Around about midnight the last of the release party guests straggle through the front doors of the Computer Centre and fan out in various directions. Barbie emerges into the cool night air flanked by Jose and Adam. Jose's glance lingers on Barbie, but it's late, and he's tired. He's not worried about Adam as competition. The guy is like Dilbert come to life.
“That's it for me.” Jose says. “Later.” and Barbie waves as he sets off along the path that will take him to the Fyfield House residence.
“I'm parked in C Lot,” Barbie tells Adam, “How about you? Do you live on campus or off?”
“Oh, I live at home.” confesses Adam, wishing for the first time that he didn't.
But Barbie giggles, “Me too. I thought I was the only one.”
They walk companionably toward the parking lot, Adam lugging a laptop on each shoulder. They get to her car first. A shiny new looking compact car. She pushes the button to unlock it, and opens the door, turning to Adam and giving him a peck on the cheek.
“Thanks for all the help Alan, I really appreciate it.”
Adam flushes and looks away, bashful under her intense blue eyed gaze. “It's no problem Barbie, I'll have it finished and back to you Monday, good as new. Better.”
“That'd be great. I've got a family thing this weekend so I won't hardly even miss it. Just call me when it's ready and we'll get together. You're an angel, Alan.” and she ducks into the driver's seat. Barbie flashes Adam a smile, then the lights, and away she goes.
Dazzled, Adam watches her drive away, head spinning as he makes his way to the back to his own car. Funny, he never cared what a hunk of junk it was before. He smiles to himself; he doesn't even mind she got his name wrong. Barbie kissed him! He's in such a good mood he pats his beater fondly on the roof. His car is so old there isn't a remote — you actually have to put a key in the lock. He opens the door and tucks Barbie's computer carefully behind the seat. He slides his computer in beside hers.
He can't help but grin as he slams the door. Barbie wants his help. She even gave him her phone number. And her computer. Adam is simply amazed that a girl like that would even talk to him. He doesn't even mind that she calls him Alan. How can he possibly correct her? He's in a daze as he buckles the seat belt, then turns the key in the ignition. Before disengaging the emergency brake he touches his cheek in awe. “She kissed me,” he marvels. “Me.”
As Adam drives out of the lot his lights illuminate Krystal and Jake emerging from the Computer Centre. He taps the horn and they wave as he goes past.
chapter 9 . . .
Maggie is curled up in bed, speaking softly into the cell phone.
“Oh I'm sorry babe . . . I can imagine . . . it's good you saved the kittens . .. just a minute, Stu.” Dropping the phone on the bed, Maggie brushes her eyes with a tissue, then blows her nose before picking up the phone again.
“No, I haven't said anything to Kate or Oz. Krystal asked me not to say anything. And I understand why, really, but that doesn't make it any easier. I mean, Oz was ticked because she never got the release party plugged in the school paper, but since I'm sworn to secrecy I can't even stick up for her without saying anything.”
chapter 10 . . .
Elsie sits at her computer, organizing her notes. Glancing at her watch, she rolls away from her desk, wondering where Eric is. He gives a mean massage and she could use one, but has to settle for neck stretches and rotations.
Surprising, really, he hasn't called or anything. Just as well, she has to get this done, and he's been becoming a bit of a pest lately. Pah. Men are supposed to be the ones who want sex without ties.
Except Eric. He wants commitment.
But she simply can't afford it. Sex is all she has time for. Some fun to ease the stress. Med school is the only priority. She simply does not have time to spend in relationships and emotional negotiations. Which is not to say she doesn't want a nice uncomplicated roll in the hay every so often. Maybe a little more. Twice daily is good. She smiles at the memory of Chuck this afternoon. Very talented, that one.
Distracting, even, so she checks email to see if Eric . . . shit. She was supposed to meet him for dinner but, well, Chuck was a temptation she couldn't pass up.
Dinner date interruptis, so now there's petulant email from Eric. So much for a massage.
She'd thought a dalliance with Eric would be just the thing, but maybe it's been a mistake.
He has such wonderful skin though. Smiling she thinks about him, then shakes her head to realign her focus.
Work. This has to be done for tomorrow. Maybe she should think of cutting him loose. Not yet though. She's not done enjoying him just yet. There's something about the boy, addictive almost. Stop thinking about him. Get the work done. He probably just wants to punish her for standing him up.
But he won't be able to stay away. Rolling back to the desk she stubs her her toe on something hard and irregular.
Twisting around and under Elsie sees what it is. Eric's keys.
Hmmm.
chapter 11 . . .
Mouse drops anise blocks into two mugs of milk before putting them in the microwave, bopping to music only she hears through her ear buds while it counts down. When it beeps she takes the steaming mugs out and stirs them vigorously, shuddering in happy pleasure as she inhales the rich licorice scent of home. Tucking her well thumbed copy of Don Quixote under her arm, she pops the spoon in the sink then carefully picks up the mugs and navigates the stairs to the common room.
Mouse sets one mug on the table in front of Amelia curled up on the sofa. Looking up from her own Don Quixote, Amelia smiles her thanks, not asking whose milk it is. Mouse settles at the other end and begins reading. Producing a pencil from behind her ear she makes margin notes now and again.
Mouse is just taking her own first sip of anise milk when she hears a thud from the stair door followed by giggling. Amelia and Mouse exchange glances. “I thought everybody was in already.” whispers Amelia.
“Seems not,” says Mouse, setting her mug back down, she stands and pulls her fuzzy robe tight and starts for the door. Amelia lays her book face down on the sofa to preserve her place and follows, curious.
The door creeps open as they approach and Amelia gasps— there's a body on the floor. But then more giggling.
As they arrive at the door the “body” is revealed as an extremely inebriated Eric. The giggling comes in equal parts from Natasha and Liz.
“What happened to him?” hisses Amelia.
“Isn't it obvious? This is one plastered puppy,” says Natasha, which encourages another round of giggling from Liz.
“Boris and I found him at Callaghan's passed out in the back booth. The waitress made us bring him home.”
“Where is Boris?” asks Mouse.
“Putting away the car. When we got here Liz was on her way in so we drafted her to help,” says Natasha.
Liz giggles. “He was conscious then. I guess the elevator rocked him to sleep. It was all we could do to get him out.”
“He can't stay out here in the hall, he'll get in trouble. How about everybody grab corner?”
Natasha and Liz struggle to get Eric's dead weight elevated enough so they can get a grip under his arms, while Mouse and Amelia each hoist a foot. They stumble through the door and manhandle Eric onto the sofa.
“Funny,” says Liz, “He didn't look that heavy.”
“Thanks for your help, guys, but that's it for me,” says Natasha. “G'night all.”
Liz yawns, catching the scent of licorice she notes the two mugs of steamin
g milk on the coffee table and in a blink decides to let it go. “I'm calling it a night too. Sweet dreams,” and she follows Natasha up.
Amelia and Mouse exchange glances.
“Well.” Amelia says, “We could move to the chairs.”
Just then Eric begins to snore. It's a substantial sound, and Mouse shakes her head.
“Since the Incredible Hulk seems to have appropriated the room I think I will call it a night too.”
Amelia nods. “Like we have a choice.” She snaps off the reading lamp, and they pick up their mugs and start up the stairs. Amelia glances back at the sleeper. “I've got an extra blanket I can bring down for him.”
Mouse smiles at her. “You've a good heart Ami. G'night.” They separate at the top, heading to their rooms.
Amelia shares one of the big corner doubles with Liz, so she gives a quiet tap before entering. As she sets the mug on her desk she sees Liz is nearly asleep. Amelia pulls a fleece blanket down from her closet.
“I'm gonna run this down to sleeping beauty,” she whispers.
Liz mumbles something unintelligible and rolls over, so Amelia turns the desk light off and slips out with the blanket. Boris is just coming in as she comes down the stairs.
Boris asks, “He's out again?”
Amelia grins. “Yup, and that was as far as we could get him.” Taking an end of the blanket, Boris helps her drape it over the sleeper. Eric takes a deep shuddering breath and snores profoundly.
Boris and Amelia both cover their mouths in an effort to keep their laughter from waking the dead, and Boris whispers, “I hope I get treated so nicely when I show up in that condition.”
“You?” whispers Amelia, “You're far too cool to end up like this, Bo. Goodnight.”
Boris grins and gives her a courtly bow before he heads under the stairs on the way to his room. Amelia heads back up and is about to go into her own room when she realizes Don Quixote is still downstairs. And she's not finished the chapter. Damn.
So much for a quiet night to catch up on her reading. Back down the stairs. She looks at Eric sleeping so peacefully. Where would the book be? She had been sitting at the door end, meaning the book is probably somewhere under his neck. What are the odds on getting it out without waking him or wrecking the book?
Giving up is not an option if she's to finish the chapter and start the essay tomorrow. Gently peeling the blanket down she's rewarded with a glimpse of her book tucked in behind the small of his back. She tries to wriggle it out but no go. Sliding her hand under doesn't work, so she tries to roll him. A blast of beery breath in her face does not thrill her. Yuk.
Around the back of the sofa to try and get a hold of the book she reaches down and snags the corner, and is jiggling it to pull it out when Eric rolls off the sofa onto the floor.
Now Amelia's book is free, but she feels guilty for pitching the guy on the floor. Still, there's no way she is getting him back on the sofa by herself. Too bad Boris is gone, he probably bench presses more than Eric weighs. He could pick Eric up easy. No way she can. She takes a cushion and wrestles it under his head. He snuggles in and looks so sweet.
Too bad he reeks of stale beer. Reaching over she pulls the blanket across him again before heading back up the stairs for the night.
Pulling the door closed she sets the book on her table, drapes her robe over the chair and angles it to block the bedside lamplight. She switches it on. Not a twitch from Liz. Good.
She can finish her reading here. Curling in with Cervantes, she finds herself thinking about Eric. She's never seen him drunk. He always seemed to have it together Most of the other guys get shitfaced, not him. At least not 'til now. Guess everybody takes a turn. Wonder what did it.
Elsie, probably.
Poor schmuck.
chapter 12 . . . the weekend
The good thing about Saturday morning shifts is there aren't many customers before noon.
But it's still hard when you were up too late the night before. Amelia unpacks a box of books, checking the contents against the shipping manifest. Lifting out a handful of physics texts she carries them out front to shelve.
When the bell tinkles she looks over to see that it's Adam. “I need a spindle of writable CDs this morning” he says.
“They're over here. Sure you want CDs? You know they're more expensive than DVDs because of the levy, right?”
“Yes, I do know, but I need them for an old laptop that only takes CDs.”
“Ah. Too bad,” commiserates Amelia. “Anything else?”
He thinks. “Let me look around a bit. There might be.”
“OK,” she says, “I'm just putting out some new books. Just give a holler when you're ready.”
Adam looks through the rack of greeting cards, wondering what card you would get for the most beautiful girl in the world. These cards are all too foolish. Some have sexual implications that make him a little uncomfortable. Maybe a card isn't quite right anyway.
He's skips the iPad display. Even if they weren't beyond his price range the Apple toy doesn't fill any real need he knows of. But when Adam sees the Ubuntu mug he knows it is just perfect.
Not the big clunky travel mug, the delicate porcelain mug. It will remind her of him every time she sees it. Drinks from it. Every time her lips touch . . . wait a minute.
Calm down.
Surely it would be obvious to anyone how smitten he is with Barbie. Glancing around guiltily, Adam is relieved to see that Amelia is still in the back room.
Breathe deeply, from the belly, get a strong ki flow. Adam feels himself coming back under control. Once in balance, he carries the mug back to the register just as Amelia emerges with more text books.
Amelia asks “All set?” and he nods agreement, smiling. She sets the pile of texts on the counter so she can ring his purchases through.
Adam feels a little sorry for this drab, ordinary girl. She seems pleasant enough but she's so . . . colourless. Poor thing, not blessed with golden hair like beautiful Barbie.
It's too bad all girls can't sparkle like his Barbie.
chapter 13 . . .
Boris, Natasha, Liz and Jake are walking along the creek, enjoying the great outdoors on the Christie campus grounds. Although there are still leaves on the trees, more are on the ground.
Jake says, “I can't believe how warm it is still.”
“So where is this surprise?” asks Boris.
Natasha lightly punches his shoulder, “Stop buggin' her, Bo. We'll see it when we get there.”
Liz knows there is no way any of them will capture any wildlife in their photographs today. Jake isn't bad but Boris and Natasha are simply too loud. City slickers. Every critter for miles is holed up somewhere else, hiding until these large noisy intruders go away.
Still, Liz can't help but grin. She's actually having fun here.
She can't wait to show them. Her friends. People she has stuff in common with.
Now that was something worth coming to Christie for. Imagine, people as interested in photography as she is. Heck, Jake is way ahead of her. For such a young guy he knows so much. And he's on top of all the digital stuff, too.
Boris and Natasha run ahead, throwing leaves at each other. Liz starts snapping shots of the leaf fight. Hah.
At first Liz doesn't notice Jake backing up behind her, taking pictures of her taking pictures. But when she does she whirls around to catch him dead on, camera obscuring much of his face but none of his intensity.
Natasha runs on ahead again, leaving Boris far behind. As she crests the hill she stops, and Liz knows she's seen it. Snapping on her lens cap, she tells Jake, “Come on!”
Liz turns and runs up the slope after Natasha, her long legs easily outdistancing Jake and passing Boris. Jake jogs over to Boris then drops into a walk beside him.
“Aren't you curious?” Jake asks, since Boris hasn't increased his walking speed at all.
“I expect whatever it is will still be there when we arrive.”
J
ake nods, and they continue up the sloping path. As they reach the top, they can see the hill follows the creek down the slope to a little valley. Beside the meandering creek at the bottom they can see Natasha under a huge old oak tree. She is pushing on on an enormous tire swing suspended on a thick chain from one of the massive branches. A humongous tire.
The tire twists as it swings and they see Liz spreadeagled inside, arms and legs outstretched to hold on to the inner lip.
Boris grins and snaps off some shots as they start down the hill. “Good surprise. Think it's a tractor tire?”
“Monster truck maybe.” And Jake realizes that even Boris will probably fit in that thing.
Cool.
chapter 14 . . .
Eyes closed, focusing on the spirit of breathing, Adam begins exhaling through his nose.
Slowly he opens his eyes and gazes at the far away spot.
Extending his arm he stretches and points toward the spot until the exhalation begins to wane. He allows his eyes to close and relaxes his arm, allowing it to fall to his side.
Adam inhales deeply, beginning ki breathing as he focuses internally now.
Until he feels a touch on his shoulder. Without altering his breathing, Adam reaches up and grasps the wrist of the hand that's touching him. Turning evasively while breaking free of the shoulder grip, he puts his attacker on the mat.
His brother angrily protests, “Hey!”
Adam stops and blinks, releasing the wrist. “What are you doing here?”
His brother shakes his head and says, “We've got to stop meeting like this. Could you maybe try to remember that I live here too?”
“But you snuck up on me.” Adam is annoyed to hear the whine in his own voice. The problem is that his brother always makes him feel like a little kid.
There has never been any doubt that Adam was the smart one. But his brother has always had the far more valuable gift of sociability. Sometimes Adam has to quell a touch of jealousy for this older sibling who glides so effortlessly through life, as suave and charming as any Hugh Grant character.
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