“She may have bought them, but that doesn't mean you can copy them. That's against the law. You could get in trouble. She could get in trouble. If I copy them for you I could get in trouble.” Barbie stands up, frustrated “That's the stupidest thing I ever heard. She owns them, Alan, and she gave me permission.”
Adam purses his lips and frowns. “Please let me explain. She owns the compact disks, right?”
Barbie's eyes narrow and she looks at the guy. She knows he likes her. Why is he giving her a hard time? It doesn't track. She'll give him one more chance. So she says tentatively, “Right.”
“But that's not the same as owning what's on the CDs.”
Barbie just stares at him, confused, like he's some kind of little green man getting out of one of the spaceships on his tie. She tosses her hair in frustration. “They aren't blank CDs. If they were blank CDs they wouldn't have cost as much.”
“Yes she bought them,” he waves the CD, “But she didn't buy the right to copy them.”
“Of course she did. She owns them. Who else would have the right to copy them?” she asks, amused.
“Whoever made the CD.”
Barbie crosses her arms, and looks at him, no longer confused or amused. “You're telling me the only one who can copy The E.N.D.” Barbie snatches the CDs from his hand and waves them in front of his nose, “is the Black Eyed Peas? That's ridiculous. How am I supposed to ask big stars for permission?”
Adam says, “Of course not, that is not what . . .”
But Barbie can't hear him. She won't listen. “I mean just 'cause I can follow will.i.am on Twitter doesn't mean he has time to talk to all the Peabodies. I mean, he's brilliant but he's busy writing music. They don't print their phone number on the CD.” she says, petulantly now. “Even if they did, am I gonna call up will.i.am or Fergie and ask if I can copy Tamara's CD? They'd be on the phone all the time, not making music anymore.”
“It is unlikely that the band would be allowed to give permission anyway. It would be the record label or . . .”
“Wait a minute. I may be a blonde but I am not dumb enough to think that will.i.am can't give me permission to copy his own freaking CD. That's just nuts. Why are you giving me such a hard time? Are you mad I missed you at lunch? I said I was sorry.”
“I am not trying to give you a hard time, but my brother is an Intellectual Property lawyer. Could I just show you?”
She looks at his outstretched hand and hesitates a moment. Just she really doesn't have any more time right now. Not after having had to chase all over looking for the guy. So she stuffs the CDs back in her purse. “Look, just forget it.” She grabs the laptop case, mutters, “Thanks,” then turns on her heel and stalks away.
Adam sits there, stunned. Watching her walk away.
Barbie is annoyed. No, not annoyed, angry.
She's really, really, angry.
How could he be so stupid? She liked him. She even kissed him once. Why couldn't he just enjoy it? Why does he always have to be so anal? Barbie was happy he fixed up her computer. All he wanted was to help her. He doesn't want her to get in trouble. Why doesn't she understand? Now life is truly miserable.
It was better when she didn't know he existed. He could quietly admire her and hope she might talk to him some time. Now she knows who he is and he's made her hate him. Adam buries his face in his hands.
He didn't even have a chance to give her the mug.
chapter 25 . . .
Liz is dreaming and a woman is speaking . . . talking funny but somehow familiar . . . such pretty words.
“How camest thou hither, tell me, and wherefore?
The orchard walls are high and hard to climb,
and the place death, considering who thou art,
if any of my kinsmen find thee here.”
Then a man is saying,
“With love's light wings did I o'er-perch these walls;
for stony limits cannot hold love out.”
And Liz thinks Romeo.
She smiles and opens her eyes and realizes her face is pressed against the metal grill work floor of the catwalk. Slam the eyes shut. Oh God.
Bad.
Very bad. Her whole body is tense with fear. How the heck does she get out of this? Not opening her eyes. No how, no way.
Better not to look. Where did this come from? It's terrifying. Get the breathing under control. Try to breathe deeply. Listen to the words in the play. Breathe. In. Out. In. Out. Listen to the words. Concentrate on Romeo's words.
Romeo
I have night's cloak to hide me from their sight,
and but thou love me, let them find me here.
My life were better ended by their hate,
than death prorogued wanting of thy love.”
Liz knows it's the balcony scene, but she doesn't much care. She has to concentrate, get control. Breathe in, breathe out.
Juliet
By whose direction found'st thou this place?
Romeo
By love, who first did prompt me to inquire
He lent me counsel and I lent him eyes.
Liz remembers doing this scene in high school so long ago. She always liked the music of the words but had trouble with the reading. Eyes tight shut, Liz reaches up feeling for the rail. Waving her hand around . . . nothing . . . not a good thing to do. Heart beating too fast again. Strained like it will burst.
Breathe. Breathe. Concentrate on Juliet's words . . .
Juliet
Dost thou love me?
I know thou wilt say 'Ay,'And I will take thy word.
Yet if thou swear'st Thou mayst prove false;
At lover's perjuries they say Jove laughs.
Okay, the only way out is to crawl. But which way. Think. Open eyes just now. She can see the stage just there.
Juliet
O gentle Romeo, If thou dost love, pronounce it faithfully:
Or if thou think'st I am too quickly won,
I'll frown and be perverse an say thee nay,
. . . so back is the other way . . . breathe . . . listen . . . breathe . . .
In truth fair Montague I am too fond.
And therefore thou mayst think my 'havior light
But trust me gentleman I'll prove more true
than those that have more cunning to be strange.
. . . listen . . . breathe . . . listen . . . concentrate . . . crawl . . .
I should have been more strange, I must confess . . .
But that thou overheard'st, ere I was ware, my true love's passion:
therefore pardon me, And not impute this yielding to light love,
Which the dark night hath so discovered.”
Liz freezes as her head bumps something solid . . . she pulls back and opens her eyes. Looking up she sees Jake.
Romeo
Lady, by yonder blessed moon I swear that tips with silver all these fruit-tree tops—”
Jake reaches out a hand but Liz shakes her head violently and waves him away, convulsively gripping the edges of the catwalk floor. A little hurt, not understanding, Jake steps back.
Liz closes her eyes and breathes, listening again.
Juliet
O, swear not by the moon!
The inconstant moon
that monthly changes in her circled orb,
Lest that thy love prove likewise variable.”
Jake is confused but he does what she wants, backing out of the doorway. Liz's gingerly begins crawling again. Suddenly Liz feels cool tiles under her hands. Not mesh. Floor. Solid. Through the doorway then she collapses in a heap.
Romeo
What shall I swear by?
Jake steps around the really weird girl on the floor and carefully pushes the door closed soundlessly. With the theatre closed off it's safe to talk aloud.
“What's wrong Liz? Should I get a doctor?”
Liz looks pretty shaky but she's sitting up.
“Are you all right?”
“No. Yes. Sorry, Jake.�
�� She nods, breathing deeply. “I . . . I think I just discovered I'm scared of heights.”
“Oh.” Jake is trying to process this. “I guess this wasn't such a hot idea then.”
“It was an awesome idea.” Liz smiles shakily. “Maybe not for me, but I got some pictures anyway. But I'm done now. Boy am I done.” She gets shakily to her feet. “Lets just go, okay?”
They go back out and down the stairs. At the bottom Liz stops and rests against the bench just inside the rear doors. She flops down into the seat. “I've gotta rest a minute. You can go on, I know I've been a real pain, but I'm okay now.”
“It's fine. I'll wait. I'm sorry Liz, I didn't know.”
Liz smiles ruefully, “That's okay, I didn't know either.”
Jake looks at her. “I don't get it. How can you not know something like that?”
“I guess because I've never been in that kind of situation before. Flimsy railings you can't hardly see and . . . ” she shudders. “Huh, maybe that's why I never liked carnival rides. That floor up there, it's made of holes. You can see all the people underneath. It's almost invisible.” Liz closes her eyes. “Not doing that again real soon.”
Jake points to Ethan and Oscar walking past outside. “Look, there's Oz. I'll just—”
“No!” snaps Liz. “Don't tell Ethan, or anybody! Look, just don't say anything to anybody.”
Jake frowns at her. “Why not? If you get dizzy again.”
“Now that I'm on solid ground I'm not dizzy. Just a little shaky. It's just a delayed reaction. Really.”
“They can help me get you back to the residence.”
“You don't have to, I'll get myself back. I'm all right now.”
“Like I'm gonna leave you.” Jake throws up his hands in frustration. “Why you don't want any help, it's not a big deal.”
”People around here already think I'm enough of a freak, okay? I just don't need the aggro.”
“You're just talking trash now. You're cool, Liz, nobody thinks you're a freak.”
“That's nice of you to say.”
Jake is examining her face, “It's Ethan, isn't it?”
Liz snaps, “I don't know what you're talking about.”
“You weren't worried about Oz, you were worried about what Ethan thinks.” Jake grins, examining her now flushed complexion. “You like him, don't you.”
“Time to be getting back Jake.”
“You do!”
“Just stop it.”
“What's the big deal?”
“ I don't have time for guys. I have stuff I need to do with my life.”
“Don't worry.” Jake grins. “I won't tell him.”
Liz stands up and pushes open the door. “Good.”
“But maybe I can find out if he likes you too.”
Liz is mortified. “No! Don't even think that.”
“I'll bet he does.”
“Look Jake, just give it a rest. Besides, what makes you think he'd be interested in a giraffe anyway?” Liz pushes through the door. Jake works hard to match her deliberately fast pace.
“You aren't that much taller than Ethan— probably only a few inches. What does that matter?”
“I'm taller than everybody except maybe Kobe Bryant. Trust me, it matters. Just give it a rest, Jake.”
Jake stops in his tracks, watching Liz keep right on going. At least he's no longer worried she's going to pass out, but he is worried that she might not want to be his friend now he's tumbled to her secret.
That is so weird, Liz doesn't know she's cool. Or pretty. Maybe that's why she's his friend, she doesn't know any better. Come to think of it, Ethan doesn't know he's cool either. Hmmmm. Maybe he can fix them up. Nobody cares about how tall anybody is. After all, Krystal is taller than he is. And that's not gonna stop him.
chapter 26 . . .
Hair wound in a towel atop her head, swaddled in her fluffy purple robe and green bunny slippers, Amelia carries her bathroom bag back to the corner room she shares with Liz.
Too bad Liz couldn't come along tonight. Some assignment she had to work on with Jake.
Amelia is so glad she could get the night off to see the play. It was exquisite. She smiles to herself as favourite scenes play out in her mind. That actress was an excellent Juliet. And the sword fight was incredible.
There's just something about Shakespeare.
Amelia is startled when Elsie's door opens abruptly just as she passes. She's about to say, ‘hey’ when she realizes it isn't Elsie — or Eric either — everyone on the floor is accustomed to his occasional illicit presence. But this . . . this is some total stranger guy. Good looking, in a biker kind of way, but a total stranger.
He grins broadly at Amelia, eyeing her up and down, then he winks and says, “Nice threads.”
Amelia flushes violently at the ignominious reminder she's dressed for bed. The guy blows her a kiss then slips out the fire door. She waits a beat and then checks to make sure that the heavy door really did latch behind him. Overcome with fury, she leans against the door, shaking, as the anger washes over her.
§
Liz looks up from her desk with a smile as the dorm room door swings open, but the smile dissolves at the sight of Amelia's face. Liz asks, “What's wrong?”
“I just about ran into some strange man in the hall.”
“Well heck, we've gotta report this.” Liz is reaching for her cell phone when she sees Amelia's head shake. “Why not?”
“He was coming out of Elsie's room.”
“You're kidding!” says Liz. “She only just dumped Eric.”
Amelia nods, “Guess she's a fast worker.”
Hanging her bathroom bag on its hook, she shrugs off the purple robe, revealing an equally purple nightgown. Kicking off the clashing slippers, she drapes the robe on her desk chair and climbs into bed, switching on the reading lamp.
“Let's hope it's a one time thing.” Liz suggests hopefully.
“You know it wasn't that bad with Eric slinking around because at least we know him, but I'm not so keen on running into total strangers when I'm wandering around in my jammies.”
Liz nods, “Lets see how it goes.”
“I just hope it doesn't turn into a parade,” replies Amelia as she picks up her book. Thinking, it was a parade when Elsie was with Eric. It's only gonna get worse now she's not.
chapter 27 . . .
The LEDs on the alarm clock show 3:00 a.m.
Maggie is laying on her back in bed, staring at the ceiling with red rimmed eyes when she hears her cellphone vibrate on the night table. She grabs it and rolls onto her side to talk into it softly.
“Hey baby. No that's Okay, I was awake. How was it?”
She listens to his stories for a while. Then it's her turn.
“I'm just having a bit of a hard time sleeping.”
She listens, then, “No way, I wasn't worried about you and the strippers.” Maggie listens to him talk a bit, then she says, “Yeah, of course I trust you. I mean you're my guy and all but more important is you know I'd kill you stone dead if you stepped out on me.”
Stuart talks some more, and Maggie giggles. “But it's not gonna be forever. Even if I was there no way would I be going to a stag with you.”
Maggie listens some more, then smiles sadly, “Yeah, I was thinking about her. You know me too well.”
She listens again. Then, “No, she doesn't want anybody to know, but yeah, I told her I'd tell you. You know she's right. If people knew they'd treat her different.” Maggie brushes her eyes.
“Hell, I know I do. I try not to . . . no, not even Katie. Just talk to me . . .” Tears are running silently down Maggie's face. “Yeah, I wish you were here too, babe, 'cause I could sure use a hug.”
chapter 28 . . . tuesday
Adam sits at the wheel of his car outside the record store. He drums his fingers on the dashboard, waiting impatiently for the store to open.
The problem is that it doesn't even look like there's anyone inside yet.
He glances at his watch, then gets out of the car and goes up to the door. White painted letters tell him the hours of operation. The store doesn't even open until ten. That's ridiculous. And people wonder why there's a recession on.
He'll be late for class if he stays and waits.
Ruin his perfect record.
A surge of anger prompts Adam to punch the wall by the door in frustration. The impulse is instantly regretted as skin breaks and pain shoots up his arm.
Clutching skinned knuckles he stuffs his wounded hand into the protection of his armpit. Clenching his teeth he paces back and forth in front of the unhelpful storefront. Eventually the waves of pain subside.
With the pain level dropping to manageable, Adam returns to the car and opens the door with his right hand. He climbs in, being very careful not to injure himself further as he pulls the door closed. Examining his knuckles he notes the scrape will certainly leave bruises. But the skin is only broken in two places.
Adam shakes his head ruefully. What a stupid thing to do.
Reaching under the passenger seat Adam pulls out his first aid kit. A little rubbing alcohol, a couple of Band-Aids, and a few breathing exercises later, he's good as new.
At this point he decides to stay.
Going back for Web Design now will make him miss at least part of Computer Architecture after lunch since he'll have to come back. Better for his schedule if he stays. Some people cut classes all the time. Of course, those people don't have his grade point average. Still, missing half a lecture is hardly going to ruin his life. Maybe it's time he started taking control. Be the master of his own destiny. Adam smiles.
He pulls out his laptop, he could at least do some work from here. While it cycles through the start up Adam waves around his Wi-Fi finder. Not a whiff. He's surprised. Sure, Canada may have terrible connection speeds and some of the worst price gouging in the world, but it's not the UK so there is usually some open Wi-Fi to be had.
Except there does not seem to be any around here. This is the old part of town, and, well, really, this store still calls itself a record store. A thought. Maybe they sell records not CDs. He jumps out of the car and goes to peer in the window. He's relieved to see CDs in there. Still, it is old tech when you get down to it. Maybe they don't even know what Wi-Fi is.
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