Adam extends a hand and helps his brother up.
“I wish you wouldn't keep doing that. I just want to work out. That's why I put in the weight room.”
“Sorry.”
“You wanna spot me?”
Adam nods, “Alright.”
Adam loves his brother. He just doesn't like to be startled.
chapter 15 . .. monday
Eric watches Elsie sitting in the window of the coffee shop, sipping her cappuccino. The sun angling through the plate glass lights her auburn mane afire like an erotic halo. He sighs heavily as he emerges from the bathroom, walking over to slip into the seat across from her.
This was ‘their place.’ The only place outside bed they ever frequented together with any regularity.
God, she is so gorgeous.
Alabaster skin, sea green eyes. He smiles at her until he remembers, and then he looks away. He tells himself to stop it. Be a grown up here.
She smiles and says, “Hey, Eric.” Like nothing's changed. He looks at the table. She's gotten him his usual dark roast with a sprinkle of chocolate, biscotti arranged on the side dish.
He can't stop the sigh. “Missed you at Callaghan's Friday.” He looks at the coffee as he picks it up. Not looking at her. Blows on it, sips, sets it down. Stirs.
She looks at him closely. His skin looks grey this morning. Particularly in this glorious sunlight. Amazing sun for October. She can smell the alcohol wafting off him. Watching him not looking at her, she takes in the uncharacteristic stubble, the red rimmed eyes looking here, there, not knowing where to rest.
He licks his lips. Such lovely lips he has too, she thinks. Eric is possibly one of the best lovers she's ever had. “I got held up.” she says, watching him, seeing his jaw clench. Not a good sign.
He's still not meeting her eye.
Eric is looking at her reflection. Stirring his coffee, looking out the window.
Anything but to look in those eyes. She's so achingly beautiful. Maybe it was just a bad dream.
Stirring.
That's all she's going to say. Maybe it was all in his imagination. Yeah right. He's got a great imagination but he's not a masochist. Wake up and smell the coffee.
She's acting like it's an everyday thing.
He stops, freezes, as an awesome and monstrous thought enters his mind. Eric's fingers go slack as the thought sucks all the air out of his heart. He lets go the spoon, it clatters to the tabletop, flinging a few drops of coffee on his shirt. Like he cares.
Monstrous.
Maybe it is an everyday thing.
She's bent over the table, digging for something in her bag. The waves of glorious hair fan out around that perfect neck. She purses those lips as she finds what she's looking for. Withdrawing her hand, clasping it tightly she reaches across the table then opens it. An offering of his keys cupped in the palm of her hand. He just stares at them with dead eyes.
“You forgot these the other day,” she says.
As though nothing has happened. Her voice sounds exactly the same. As if everything is the same.
But it isn't.
Yesterday he loved her and thought she loved him.
Today he knows better.
He raises his eyes and meets hers. She drops the keys on the table, and withdraws her hand.
She knows. He knows. And she's still the most beautiful girl he's ever seen. She's probably the most beautiful girl he will ever see. And she's got such a brilliant mind. God she is smart. He thinks that was maybe more important than anything.
But.
She looks at him and sees him seeing her. Really seeing her for the first time, not the pedestal woman he had made of her, but the real woman.
She can see the lust in his eyes, mingling with the hurt and pain. The disgust. But the lust is still there.
And it's making her feel . . . she feels so . . . it's an arousal so strong she can't believe it. She bites her lip as the flush spreads across her face. She wants to knock all the bloody coffee stuff off the table and fuck him silly right here on this table in the window in front of god and everybody. She's never wanted anything this badly in her life.
He picks up his keys and hooks them over his little finger, just like always, and it hits her that he's leaving. Then he pulls out his wallet and throws some bills on the table. He's leaving her. He walks out.
Elsie grabs her bag and follows him out into the sun.
“Eric,” she calls. “Wait.” He stops. Frozen. Still tense.
She runs after him, comes around in front of him. Standing inches away. She stares in his eyes a moment, then reaches up and pulls his face to hers. And the kiss is the most amazing thing she's ever felt, the most sexually charged kiss she's ever had, she can't breathe, she needs him— needs him— right now. She doesn't want it to end.
But he wrenches free and walks away.
“It didn't mean anything.” she calls after him. She can't believe it as she watches him walking away.
From her.
Bastard.
chapter 16 . . .
The sun is shining, the trees are flaunting their glorious autumn plumage, but Maggie and Krystal walk in the woods oblivious to the beauty all around them.
Maggie asks, “So what did the doctor say, Krys?”
They keep walking, Krystal doesn't say anything for a bit.
Just thinking, they scuff their way through the fallen leaves. As they approach the bench beside the wooden bridge that spans the creek, Krystal says, “Let's sit a while, O.K?”
Maggie nods and they sit. Krystal clears her throat, but doesn't look at Maggie, stares into the creek instead.
“Nothing's changed. It's not growing as fast as they thought. But it is growing.”
“Can't they zap it with radiation or something?” Maggie asks hopefully.
Krystal sighs sadly. “Maybe there will be a breakthrough down the road. But there's nothing to be done now.”
Maggie doesn't say anything. She's not sure what to say. She's still not sure that she understands.
“Look I'm sorry I told you, Maggie. I didn't mean to. It just kind of slipped out.”
“What can I do to help, Krystal?”
“Just keep being my friend, Maggie. It's great to have some support, you know? But there isn't really anything else anyone can do at this point.”
“Oh god, Krystal, I'm sorry . . .”
Maggie's tears are flowing and Krystal reaches over and pulls her into a hug. Patting her awkwardly on the back, Krystal says, “Don't cry, Maggie. Please don't cry.”
chapter 17 . . .
Ensconced in his basement domain, Adam works hard; clearly, in his element.
Computers in all states of being, some live and Internet ready, others gaping with all their chips exposed, are set up along the wall to wall work bench.
Motherboards, cables and capacitors are tidily stored in boxes and bins.
But the only computer he has eyes for today is Barbie's. He spent the weekend getting it done. Such chaos; files scattered all over the laptop.
It was close, getting it all done for today, but that's what he promised. Now every thing is backed up and the defrag is finally done. Adam can't wait to give it to her. To Barbie.
chapter 18 . . .
The circle of friends reclines on the grass in their special clearing off the beaten track. Soaking up rays beside the creek running through the woodlot, Barbie languorously passes the joint to Jose, stretched out beside her. He takes a satisfying drag and smiles.
“Nice of Mister Sunshine to drop in for a visit, eh?” He passes it on to Tamara, who takes just a light pull before handing it off to Quentin. Q takes a couple of tokes and passes it on to Mouse.
Tamara sits up, feeling just a bit spinny, taking in a deep breath in an attempt to clear her head before the dissection lab she has this afternoon. She smiles down at Quentin, who flashes his own pearly whites in a wolfish grin.
“You're not leaving,” he asks.
�
�Yeah, babe, I can't afford to miss the lab.” She leans over and gives him a kiss before she struggles to her feet. She looks down at Barbie laying there. The girl is totally wasted. “You coming Barb?”
“I don't think it'd be such a good idea Tam. I think they'd notice.” And she starts in giggling.
“Yeah, you're probably right. Later.” Tamara waves to the group and hurries off to the Bio building. The air feels good, the sun is soft and warm but she's got a bit of a head. That's it for me, she thinks, not for the first time. Can't afford to toke up at lunch any more. No way no how.
Tamara has wanted to be a doctor since she was small. Since her brother got the doctor kit she wanted for Christmas.
But she'll have a real doctor kit soon.
She's worked too hard and too long to get here. Slaving night and day to get the math, but she did it. And now Tamara realizes that she has to get her head into the program or she's gonna end up booted out. That is not in the plan. Stick to the program. Get it done.
Yes.
chapter 19 . . .
Adam walks through the Oval carrying Barbie's laptop. It is indeed crowded with students sitting, eating, walking, talking and enjoying the beautiful weather.
Adam stops, and starts slowly scanning the sea of humanity. She said she'would be here. As his eyes travel from group to group, always looking for the brightest blondes, he simply can not see Barbie anywhere.
It is a poser. She said she would meet him here. But it is so crowded. Her cellphone must be switched off. He has already used the cafeteria pay phone to leave messages on her voice mail, so she must know he is trying to find her.
He starts to walk along the path, careful not to trip over students or gear spread out along the way. Adam carefully checks every blonde girl, but there is no sign.
He is getting some funny looks when he makes the circuit fruitlessly a second time.
But now at least he is sure she is not here. He knows Barbie is pre-med, but he has no idea of her schedule. They have no overlapping classes. He doubts the registrar will give out her information.
He knows she does not live on campus so there is no point checking the residences. Wait a minute. He has her computer. He came where she told him to come. He's searched diligently, and she is just not here.
But she will need the laptop for just about everything.
He smiles as he pictures her making pencil notes in a lecture hall where everyone else is using a laptop.
Barbie will want her computer back. She will come looking for him.
Having a woman like Barbie looking for him, searching him out, asking people if they know where he is, would be good.
Act natural, don't deviate from his normal activities. Stay in character. Go to the library.
Let her find him. Adam smiles. It is just what his brother would do.
chapter 20 . . .
Tamara pushes open the door of the Med School wing of Christie General, a facility originally built in a sleepy rural backwater in the 19th Century. Deliberately removed from urban centres of industry and disease, quiet and fresh air was more responsible for the high rate of patient survival than many of the dubious medical practices of the day.
Sixty years later the institutional quiet was breached forever with an influx of Great War casualties no other facility had the beds to accept. Survivors of mustard gas, battlefield surgery and shell shock desperately needed housing and treatment. No longer just a quiet place where the railroad petered into a train yard, the town expanded to accommodate an ever increasing flow of visitors, sprawling down the valley to meet the river.
With an end to the war, several military surgeons followed their former patients to Christie, bringing with them surgical innovations developed in wretched battlefield conditions, triggering the transformation from sanatorium to teaching hospital. It wasn't long before Christie University grew up around the bustling hospital.
Tamara undresses in the locker room, slipping into scrubs and stuffing her clothes in the locker. She notes the quiet, but brushes her unease aside as she hurries to the Lab. It's later than she thought. Damn.
Opening the door she's surprised to find the lab empty.
Nobody here.
Nothing to cut.
WTF? Maybe she got the day wrong? Must have been rescheduled. Wish somebody had told her, given her a call, something. She could have stayed in the sun with her baby. Maybe she can still catch him.
She goes back into the hall when the men's locker room door slams open and startles her. She whirls to look but it's only Nick, backing out with a wheelie bin.
“Gee, Nick, you scared me. What happened to the dissection?”
Nick looks at her. He thinks she's intelligent enough, but he knows if she doesn't get it together soon she's gonna be history. Her big brown eyes look so open, so serious. Probably because her pupils are so widely dilated.
“The dissection went off as scheduled at one, Tamara.”
“At one. I thought . . . it's after one?”
Nick nods toward the wall clock, “It's after three.”
She stares at him, aghast. “Oh no.”
Nick starts wheeling the sharps cart away, but he feels sorry for the girl standing there, conflicted. Maybe she'll pull it up if he gives her a word. She looks pretty devastated. So he stops.
“Look, I know you're really smart. But if you don't focus you're just not going to make it. There are too many people who want your spot. If you want an easy ride you're in the wrong program, you want to transfer to something else 'cause there just isn't any slack for a pre-med.”
Her head is bowed and her shoulders are shaking. But when she speaks her words are steady, though her voice is thick with tears. “Can I make up the dissection with another class?”
“Come by the office after five. I'll see what I can do.” Nick shrugs. “I think you might make a good doctor, Tamara, but maybe not. What you do on your own time is your business, but I can smell the pot from here. And that sure isn't the way.”
Tamara says. “It won't happen again.”
Pushing the bin toward the store room he hears her say softly, “Thanks Nick.”
chapter 21 . . .
Quentin snores gently, Barbie and Jose are asleep too. Mouse gathers her things and jiggles Quentin's shoulder.
“I have to go to a class Quentin, but somebody should be awake. Too easy to rob sleeping people, yes?”
Bleary eyed, Quentin nods, rubbing his head, “I got it, Mousie.” He struggles to sit up. “Man, that was good shit.”
She grins enthusiastically and waves before jogging back toward the main path.
Quentin flips open his phone, and scrolls through the calendar. He's missed one class already, but probably slip into the art theory snooze without getting busted. School just makes him tired. But he wants Tamara to be happy.
So.
Much as he'd rather kick back in the sun, he knows he has to go, so Quentin reaches over and gives Jose a shake.
“Hey man, Mouse's gone, and I've gotta go too.” Stretching, himself awake. “You guys probably don't wanna sleep out here, you know.”
Staring up at the soft clouds, Jose says, “Yeah. I know.”
Quentin grins, “Later, dude,” and is gone.
Jose stretches and yawns hugely before rooting around in his backpack and pulling out a water bottle. He unscrews it and takes a swig, then sets it down beside him, crosses his arms and rests them on his knees and watches the water running along the creek bed. Jose does more stretching, then some yawning and now he's awake. He wants something sweet. And Goldilocks is laying there waiting for him.
He sure likes the girl. What's not to like? Does she like him though? She seems to, flirting all the time. Not a bad time to find out. Another sip of water, and he lays back again on the grass. Rolls on his side, watching her sleep. Pretty girl all right. White Anglo Saxon Protestant. Doesn't act it though, smoking up with Catholic boys like him and Q. Hell, he's the Latin lover type, right? The c
orner of his mouth turns up as he thinks about that one.
Watching the girl sleep is pretty intimate. Her breath is on him. Better wake her up. He reaches out a finger and runs it along her jaw. She smiles, mumbles something. He leans closer, to hear. Right. He touches her shoulder.
“Hey Barbie, it's getting late, we gotta go.”
“Mmmm, just a few more minutes.”
He smiles, this time running a finger along her lips. Her eyes open, she looks right at him, “Mmmm, Jose, hey.”
He sees an invitation in those blue blue eyes, and he leans in, kisses her gently. Oh wow, she's kissing back.
He can't believe his luck. She pulls him close, really going to town. He hugs her back, enjoys the way she's so aggressive, the way her curves feel against him, kinda nice. Really, really nice.
Barbie's legs circle him, pulling him in.
He's almost light headed from the kissing when her hands grab his and push them under her sweater . . . Oh my.
He can't believe this is actually happening, maybe he's still asleep and this is the mother of all wet dreams, oh much better than he could have imagined. This is the real deal here in his arms, this is Malibu Barbie rubbing all over him and it is sure happening. He's rising manfully to the occasion and . . .
Then all of a sudden it isn't.
Barbie sits up and tugs her sweater down, suddenly modest. Or maybe just awake. Dammit.
“Oh my god Jose, what are you doing?”
“Me?” Jose shrugs, lowering his eyes “I was just trying to wake you up. You're the one jumping me, girl.” he smiles his soft smile at her. “Not that I mind or anything.”
She sits up and looks at him. His big brown eyes look away, suddenly embarrassed. Cast downward, those gorgeous thick eyelashes veiling those bedroom eyes. “Oh my god,” she thinks, “he's blushing.” She doesn't have trouble buying his story because, Jesus, she's wet. She smiles; he is yummy. And she has thought about Jose, dreamt about him too. More than once.
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