by Payge Galvin
After a few seconds, the soft edges around things hardened, and she became aware of her heart hammering hard inside her chest, and the rigid surface of the door behind her, and a dull ache at the back of her head. She’d smacked herself silly on the way down, she guessed.
She was aware of the sheer animal heat of Elijah’s body just inches away, his knees brushing hers, but she still couldn’t make sense of what he was saying, only that he was trying to help her up. She didn’t have the energy to manage it, but he was strong; she felt herself being lifted without any conscious effort at all, and then she was leaning against his chest, soaking in his warmth, and she couldn’t think of anything else at all except how good that felt. How safe, to be looked after and cared for.
He must have found the right key, because the door at her back suddenly opened, and she started to sag backward until he grabbed her tight around the waist and balanced her. He walked her inside, and for the first time a little bolt of panic went through her. Did he spike my water somehow? Did he drug me? It was a constant, low-level hum around campus, that a lot of the guys, frat guys in particular, carried Special K around for parties, but Elijah hadn’t seemed like that kind of guy, and she didn’t feel drugged, exactly. Just weak and shaky. He wasn’t groping her, either; he carefully eased her onto her neatly made bed with his hands in entirely respectful places, then went back in the hall to retrieve her backpack, which he leaned against the dresser.
He left the door open, which it took her long seconds to realize was a deliberate effort to make her feel comfortable with him being in her room. Or maybe just to avoid being caught in a situation that might look pretty bad, though that was the cynical way to look at it, and she didn’t feel particularly cynical at the moment. Her head still felt stuffed with hazy clouds.
“Hope?” It took her a while to realize he was saying her name, but then the world snapped into hard focus again. Too bad, because she’d liked it better when it was a softer, kinder place. “Hope, do you need a doctor? Should I call 911?”
“Sorry,” she said. “I’m sorry. That was dumb.”
“For what, collapsing? Scaring the crap out of me?” He grabbed a blanket and covered her with it, and only then did she realize how cold she felt. “What the hell was that?” he asked.
“I don’t know,” she said. “I just felt really weak. I haven’t been feeling very well.”
“Maybe it’s low blood sugar. When’s the last time you had something to eat?”
She couldn’t remember. She remembered a mouthful of something like sawdust back in the distant past. Probably one of her energy bars from the go bag, and it seemed like at least a day ago. She hadn’t felt hungry, but now that he said something about it, her stomach clenched, and she realized that the faintness and weakness had something to do with that after all. No wonder she felt so dizzy and distant.
Elijah was shaking his head. He bent down, unzipped his own backpack, and pressed an energy bar into her hands. When she stared at it without real comprehension, he took it back and unwrapped it. “Eat,” he said. “Come on, Hope. Small bites, and chew it slowly.”
He sounded like he knew what he was talking about, and she supposed she ought to have known, too, but it felt as if her body and brain were severely disconnected just now. She took a tentative bite of the bar and chewed—slowly at first, then more enthusiastically as the first tingles of proteins, carbs, and sugars began to make their way into her system. She let out a little moan of relief, closed her eyes, and savored the sensation of life coming back into her. She hadn’t realized how much of her body had shut down until it started roaring back to life.
She ate the rest of the bar until all that was left was the crinkly metallic wrapper. She was tempted to lick it clean, but that seemed like it might give him the wrong impression, and now that the crisis was over she felt humiliated … it had been bad enough to freak out on him at the University Center, but collapsing in front of her own door and having to be dragged inside? Pathetic. She could hear what Brittany would have said about it, if Brittany had witnessed any of it. Which, thank God, she hadn’t.
“Is there somebody I should call for you?” Elijah asked her. “Friends, maybe? I just don’t want to leave you by yourself. You still don’t look too steady.”
She didn’t? Funny, she felt better now, stronger by the second. “I’ll be all right,” she told him, and smiled. This time, it felt more real to her, less like pasting an emoticon on her face. “Thank you for helping me. I guess I needed it.”
“Glad I was around,” he said. He was watching her with an unnerving amount of focus; she wondered if he was looking for signs of brain damage or just another unscheduled collapse. “Hope—look, about the money. You should be more careful carrying that kind of cash around.”
“I’m sorry. I thought they were twenties. It was just a mistake.”
“Don’t bullshit a bullshitter,” he said. “I thought you were on something at first, the way you were jacked up nervous. But that isn’t it, is it? You’re just scared.”
Scared out of my mind, she thought, but the words stuck in her throat. Once she admitted that, she was going to have to tell him why she was scared, and that would lead to talking about the backpack, and then The Coffee Cave, and the dead man, and she just … couldn’t. Better to say nothing than to say everything. At least, that was the theory.
In practice, the words battered at her insides so hard she wrapped her arms around her stomach, willing them to stop.
“Are you going to throw up?” Elijah asked. It sounded practical, like he’d dealt with it before. A lot, maybe. “I can get you a trash can.”
“No,” she said quickly with a shake of her head to reinforce it. “No, I’m fine.” As if a pale, fainting, scared girl wasn’t unattractive enough already, adding vomit would drive him away for sure, and she wasn’t ready for that. Wasn’t ready to be alone again with that hard black bubble of despair inside her, ready to burst. She had to admit, having someone here, someone caring, made a difference, even if he was a complete stranger. A stranger with a possible agenda, though if that was the case, wouldn’t he have closed the door? He could have ripped her off easily. He could have done anything he’d wanted.
“You don’t look fine,” E.J. said, and then his face took on an expression of pure chagrin. “I didn’t mean that. I mean, I don’t think you’re fully recovered yet. You look great, is what I mean. Just a little shaky. Are you sure you don’t want to talk about it?”
“No,” she said. “I can’t. I swear, it’s okay, though. Really. I do appreciate what you did for me.”
“Hey, you did give me a hell of a good tip; it was the least I could do.” He hesitated for a second, then said, “I guess I should get going. It’s getting close to my time for pickup.”
“Pickup?”
From the flash of a frown, he wished he hadn’t said that. “I mean, my ride. I shouldn’t keep them waiting.”
“So that means no dinner?”
She’d surprised him, she saw that, though he covered it with a quick, dimpled grin. “You are feeling better, I guess. Look, can I rain check it? I really do have to get back. Sorry. Next time.”
“Okay,” she said. “Well, you’ve got the number. I mean, on the magazine sheet. So you can call if you feel like lunch or something.”
He was going to say something else, but right about then, the elevator dinged, and Hope turned to look out of the room and down the hall.
Well, crap.
Her roommate had arrived. She wasn’t a tall girl, but she was definitely striking … she worked damn hard at it, from the stiletto heels to the illegally short cutoffs to the not-quite-matching hair extensions. She headed for the room with (of course) a guy hot on her trail, and she walked like a runway model, full of fierce attitude.
At least until she staggered a little. So she was already somewhere on the drunk scale.
“What the hell is going on here, J.C.? Having a party without me?” Brittany breeze
d in the door and flung herself down on her unmade bed. Somehow, she made it look sexy and messy at the same time.
Elijah gave Brittany a long look, then said to Hope, “J.C.?”
“It’s short for Jesus Christ, which she thinks she is,” Brittany answered. She squirmed and then sat up on the bed, tanned long legs crossed. As she leaned forward, her full breasts almost spilled right out of the low-cut hot pink top. It had printing on it that read IF YOU CAN READ THIS, KEEP LOOKING. “Because she’s such a martyr, get it? What up, girl, you’re bringing man candy back to the room now? That’s my deal, not yours.”
“It’s not—” Hope took a deep breath and tried again. “He’s a friend.”
“Whatever. You’re supposed to stay the hell out when I’ve got fun times, remember?” Brittany plucked that neon pink scarf from her bedpost and wrapped it around the doorknob, then pointed to it. “Said fun times are about to commence, so hit the trail.” She did a double take as Elijah turned his gaze on her, and leaned back on her elbows. “Then again … you can stay if you want, sweetie.”
“Your boyfriend probably has something to say about that.”
“Who, Brett?” Brittany asked. Brett must have been the blank-faced guy with the chiseled cheekbones hovering near the door. He didn’t look like he was following events too well; whether that was chemical or mental was another question. “No, he’s cool with it. What’s your name, Hope’s Friend?” There was too much alertness in her eyes for Hope’s comfort. “She never brings anybody back, you know. You must be special.”
Elijah gave her a totally impartial smile and shouldered his backpack. “Must be,” he said, in a completely bland voice. “We should go,” he said to Hope. “If you’re feeling better.”
“Wait a second, are you sick or something?” Brittany jumped on that with a frown. “Because I don’t want whatever you’ve got, swear to God. If I get the flu I swear I will kick your ass up and down this hall, because I am not missing class because of some vomit bug you brought home. You know I’m already red-lined on absences, and there’re only so many outsourced papers I can turn in.”
As far as Hope could remember, all of Brittany’s missed classes had been due to hangovers or sleepovers, not actual illness. She was smart, but she just couldn’t be bothered with actual work. “I’m not sick, I’m just—’’ Exhausted. Scared. Alone. So, so alone. “It’s just low blood sugar.” Also true.
“Well, go eat something. If Prepster McBoring is good for anything maybe he’ll buy you dinner before he gets his dessert. Sorry, Prepster. After you get tired of the vanilla pudding cups, call me.”
“Hey!” Brett said, as if it had finally dawned on him that she was flirting right in front of him.
“Oh, relax, Brett. I’m all yours.” Brittany blew him a kiss, and Brett sank back into whatever haze he was in without another word.
Elijah held out his hand and pulled Hope up. He steadied her when she wavered a little bit, and his skin against hers felt so warm it tingled. She wanted to hold on, but forced herself to let go. She grabbed her backpack and took a deep breath. “Come on,” she said, and pushed her way past Brett Cheekbones into the clear air of the hallway. Her keys were still hanging from the doorknob, and she yanked them free as she went.
“Later, losers!” Brittany called. “Bet we have more fun than you!”
Hope slammed the door. The neon scarf waved goodbye.
“More fun, but also more STDs,” Elijah said. “Wow. That’s your roommate? I’m really sorry.”
“No, I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m sorry that all this is so … weird. You only wanted a place to sit and maybe sell a magazine, and now you’ve got some fainting girl with roommate issues.”
“Well, it’s not every day I get hit on by a future porn star, so I guess that’s something,” he said.
“Too bad you didn’t get her number.”
“That girl? I guarantee, she’s got it posted on her Facebook page. Besides, she’s not my type.”
“What’s your type?” she asked, in what she hoped was a snarky, self-deprecating tone. “Pale, fainting Jesus freaks?”
“You’re only pale because you need food, and I’ve got nothing against religious girls,” he said. “I like you. You’re kind, and honest.”
“You think I’m honest?” That almost triggered wild amusement, but she managed to keep it under control—mainly because she cared what he thought about her, and she didn’t want to drive him off. Not quite yet.
“I think you have to be pretty damn kind if you haven’t killed that crazy chick you call a roommate yet. And I think you’re pretty honest. Clueless, but honest.” He looked at her, and the look in his eyes was serious and assessing. “You got someplace else to go?”
“Well, I used to have a favorite spot, but I can’t go back,” she said. “It’s kind of a crime scene now.” That invited questions that he didn’t ask, luckily. He just nodded, as if that was the kind of thing he heard every day, like it translated as the carpet’s being steamed or the roach guy is putting down poison. “I really need a new place.”
“You really do,” he agreed. “And if you saw where I live, you’d know that getting my sympathy isn’t easy.”
“Do you have time to sit down somewhere, or …”
“I don’t,” he said. He sounded sorry about it, but there was a kind of certainty to it that made her realize this nice little oasis of comfort was almost gone. Back to the wasteland for her. “Wish I could, but like I said, my ride will be waiting.”
“I’ll walk you there,” she said. “It’s the least I can do. You might pass out and hit your head.”
“It’s a possibility,” he said. “Thanks for looking out for me.”
This time, the smile he gave her seemed utterly genuine, and he held out his hand to her. She took it, and yes, there was that unmistakable shock and tingle again. Her pulse moved faster, and the breaths she took seemed deeper. I don’t want him to go, she realized. I really don’t.
“Can we walk slowly?” she asked.
“We can take it any speed you want.”
Chapter 2
Walking to the elevator only took about half a minute, but the elevator was slow to arrive, and slower to descend, which was nice. They spent that time in silence, just holding hands, and then strolled through the lobby at a leisurely pace. Outside, the air still felt warm and dry, with a little breeze to lift Hope’s hair from her shoulders and flutter it gently. Was it her imagination, or was Elijah walking a little closer to her? Holding her hand a little tighter, as if he was afraid she might pull away?
“I know she seemed kind of extreme, but Brittany’s usually not quite that bad,” she said. “She just … likes guys.”
“I noticed,” he said. “Nothing against that, but I was thinking about you. It seems like it isn’t a great situation for you. The whole room screams how different the two of you are.”
“It does?” She’d always thought that, but she was surprised he’d seen it so clearly.
“Sure. Your bed was made, stuff put away, books neat on the desk. Her half looks like the party never stops long enough to pick up after it.”
“True. You know how it is, random roommate assignments don’t always work out. I’ve been thinking of finding my own apartment off campus. I just couldn’t afford it.”
Couldn’t, past tense. You can afford it now, a voice in the back of her mind said … not the voice of Sensible Hope. This voice, she didn’t trust. This one made her shiver, because it was the devil on her shoulder, and his whisper in her ear.
Elijah shrugged. “I’d offer my place, but the fact is if you think this is bad, you should see the people I travel with.”
“You travel with a group?” That was interesting, and something to take her mind off her troubles. “Like a tour of campuses?”
“Kind of,” he said. He looked down, and she got to admire the play of light on his skin as they passed beneath a tree without feeling too embarrassed about it. He had l
ovely skin, but she still ended up focused on his lips. Such an expressive mouth. “I might have just enough time to grab some quick food, maybe a burger or something, if you still want to have dinner with me. I could even use your extra cash if you don’t think that’s too cheap. We’ll have to make it fast, though. I really can’t keep them waiting for too long.”
She laughed. “Sure. Fast food it is.”
The walk across the campus was nice, and it felt oddly private. The campus crowd thinned out at this time of day … afternoon classes were mostly done, and ASU-RV was a commuting campus, for the most part. She turned them in the direction of the burger bar, which was at the eastern end of the University Center. Not the best food in the world, but cheap and quick.
I don’t want this to be cheap and quick, she thought. I want to have dinner. Real dinner. With a restaurant and a table and maybe one of those little tea candles on the table. Low lights. I might even have wine. She knew it wouldn’t happen; he’d made that pretty clear, but it was a nice fantasy.
It ended abruptly, just as they neared the end of the University Center. The burger bar was near the visitors’ parking, and there was a long driveway for pick-ups and drop-offs. There was a beat-up white panel van idling there, and she wouldn’t have thought anything of it except that she felt Elijah’s hand close over her arm, and looked up to see that his face had gone tense and still.
He looked like a different person. Same face, but the attitude had changed completely.
“Change of plans,” he said. “You go back to your dorm, okay? I’m sorry about dinner.”
“Why? What’s wrong?”
“My boss is looking for me,” he said. “Nothing for you to worry about. Sorry, I can’t do dinner after all.”
