Summer Fling
Page 27
She’s right. But I don’t discover it right away, instead staying where I am, watching her chat with Lauren as they wait for the professor in the audience to sign their programs. Once they reach him, I move into the aisle, making my way to the door so I get to the lobby less than a minute ahead of them.
Someone is behind a table cutting a chocolate sheet cake with white frosting into squares for people to take. Gabby and Lauren head straight for the table, me trailing behind them. They balance their plates and programs on their hands, taking bites and conferring quietly. Then Lauren drifts away to talk to another group of students and Gabby turns her attention to me.
Her smile looks almost shy, and she moves to stand next to me, looking all around the room as though she isn’t sure what to say and hopes the clusters of people chatting and eating cake will provide some inspiration.
I wait, watching her. Taking perverse enjoyment in her sudden lack of confidence. She’s a study in contrasts.
The pieces of cake are small, and we both finish quickly. Turning to face me again, finally, she holds out her hand. “I’ll throw away your plate for you.”
I let her, waiting while she moves to a large trash can then comes back to me. Her cheeks are pink again, but she meets my eyes. “Um, I’d like to go put my program in my locker so I can turn it in tomorrow. The office is locked, or I’d do it now. Do you want to come with me? Or do you need to go?”
Arching an eyebrow, I ask the first question that comes to me. “You have a locker?”
She grins. “I know. Funny, right? It’s like high school all over again.” She starts to move to the hallway, expecting me to follow. “I asked my brother if other departments have lockers, and he looked at me like I was crazy. He said he had a locker in the locker room, but only because he was on the football team. And that if you have a PE class you might get one while you’re in that class for your workout clothes, but otherwise no. Most departments don’t give their students lockers. I haven’t seen them in any other buildings either. But I have to admit, it’s nice to be able to leave stuff here.” She laughs lightly, leading me upstairs to another hallway with a bank of lockers on one wall across from classroom doors.
They’re the half lockers like I had in middle school. She goes to one about halfway down on the top, twisting the dial to put in her combination, talking to me without glancing away. “I actually have two lockers. This one, and one for my violin downstairs off the rehearsal room.”
“Two lockers? In the same building.” I follow her, leaning my shoulder against a locker a couple feet away while I wait.
She looks up at me and grins. “I know, right? But it means I only have to take books with me when I have homework. Or, if I finish it here, I can just leave my stuff here and not drag it around back and forth. And my violin is always where I need it to be. It’s not like I’m going to practice in the dorm. Could you imagine? Everyone would hate me.”
After slipping the program inside, she slams the door shut. When she turns and steps toward me, my eyes automatically go to her lips. They part on an indrawn breath, and I have this sudden, insane desire to kiss her.
But it’s too soon. A coffee this morning and sitting next to her at a recital? Straightening to my full height, I cross my arms and look around. “You know, they just opened this building last year. I haven’t even been in here before.”
“You want a tour?”
Looking at her again, I smile. “Sure.”
She gestures to the doors across from us. “These are two of the classrooms.” She points at the one across from us. “This is the smart classroom. And that one’s the dumb one.” She points at the other door.
I let out a quick laugh. “The dumb classroom? Is that for the remedial classes or something?”
She grins, and I want to do whatever I can to keep her smiling as much as possible. “No. The smart classroom has all the technology. The other one doesn’t, so we call it the dumb one. It’s kind of a joke.”
I fall in step beside her as she leads me through the hallway where the professors have their studios, then to another hallway full of practice rooms. We head downstairs next, and she says, “You’ve already seen the lobby. The rest of the classrooms are in the basement.” She leads the way to another set of stairs and takes me down, showing me a room with mirrors on one wall, and then another room full of electric pianos. “That’s where I have my theory class. Sight Singing and Ear Training are upstairs.”
She stops and looks around, her bright expression turning more uncertain as she chews her lip, avoiding my eyes. “Well, um, I think that’s everything. You’ve already seen the recital hall.”
“It’s a nice building. Thanks for showing me around.” I take a step closer, drawn to her, but I stop when her eyes finally meet mine.
“Sure!” she chirps, her eyes sliding away from mine again. “So, um, what do you want to do now?”
What do I want to do now? I’m not ready to leave yet. I want to spend more time with her, keep her talking, see if I can make her laugh some more. “It’s a nice night. How about a walk around campus?”
“That sounds good.” The chirpy quality is gone again, and she seems more relaxed at my suggestion. I let her lead the way up the stairs and out the door. The recital crowd has dwindled, and now only a couple of people are left cleaning up the remains of the cake and putting away the table.
Gabby smiles and waves at one of the women before we head out the door. I take the lead, gesturing with my head in the direction I want to go. We walk side by side, and she chatters about her classes. She’s funny, telling stories about her English professor who thinks he belongs in Dead Poets Society. I know exactly who she’s talking about, I’ve had him too, but it’s funny to hear her talk about him. It’s dark out now, but the campus is well-lit enough that I can see her expressive face as she talks.
Our hands bump into each other a few times before I finally give into the urge and wrap my fingers around hers.
Her sentence trails off and she stops talking, her eyes darting down to our interlaced fingers, then up to my face. I give her a quick smile and squeeze her hand. She smiles back, returning the squeeze. We walk in silence for a few more minutes while I lead her to my favorite place on campus. It’s not exactly a secret, but it’s a little off the beaten path, and there’s a bench almost hidden by a group of tall pine trees.
“Wow.” Her voice is full of wonder. The trees here block most of the light, but I can still make out her parted lips, her eyes looking all around. Woman impressed. Mission accomplished. And we get some time alone while still in a public setting. Which means I might give into the urge to kiss her before the night is over.
Then she says, “I had no idea this was back here. I haven’t explored campus much outside of the places I need to go for classes.”
And it hits me that she’s just a freshman. She’s only been here for a few weeks. And I’m graduating in May, leaving.
What do I think I’m doing here?
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