Just one moment

by Poppy J. Anderson

  It hadn’t seemed like a big deal, exchanging her home on the East Coast for a university on the West Coast, and being completely on her own, with no friends or acquaintances to ease the transition. After all, when she was fifteen, she’d spent a year at a boarding school in Switzerland, not because she had to, but because she wanted to. And after graduating high school, she’d gone to South America for six months with the Peace Corps. She had an easy time meeting people and making friends, possessed a large circle of friends back home, and viewed herself as companionable.

  But Stanford seemed to have a different game plan for her.

  Only two weeks ago, her mother had bid her a tearful goodbye, and Barbara had reassured her that she would make friends quickly, that her mother didn’t need to worry. Then she’d flown out to California with her father.

  Naturally, Barbara had been excited to move into her room on the time-honored campus of this better-than-Ivy-League university. She’d been looking forward to leaving her high school life behind and studying psychology. She had actually felt very grown-up only a week ago, saying goodbye to her dad and forbidding him to call up his old pal, who happened to be president of the university. Barbara had made it into Stanford thanks to her excellent grades, and now she didn’t want to be treated as a special snowflake just because her last name was Ashcroft and her dad was an old fraternity brother of the prez.

  She’d never dropped her daddy’s name to score an internship, a summer job, or friends, and she sure as hell wouldn’t start doing so now, after she’d moved away from home and started college. Her status as the daughter of a very rich man had never interested her, because her parents hadn’t raised her to be a spoiled bitch who didn’t know the value of money. Just like her older brother Patrick, she’d had to work summer jobs since she was fifteen, made to save her own money for things she wanted, and would probably have been grounded if she’d dared to ask one of the housekeepers at home to tidy her room for her.

  Granted, she enjoyed more privileges than most of her peers—she’d gone on amazing vacations, met the President of the United States at a banquet, and got her own car for her sixteenth birthday—but the point was: she did not take any of that for granted.

  She was fully aware that some of her classmates in high school had been raised by their wealthy parents to become snobby, spoiled, and arrogant, and she was grateful she hadn’t met the same fate.

  Fully convinced that no snobby, spoiled brat would go to a school like Stanford, Barbara had looked forward to meeting her roommate—only to find out the girl who was supposed to share her room had opted out of her place at the university a week before the semester started. That meant Barbara had the room all to herself—and didn’t have someone with which to explore the sprawling campus, have lunch, or watch TV in the evening. While all the other freshmen were walking around in twos, Barbara shuffled across campus on her own, and so far, she hadn’t found anyone to sit with in the cafeteria.

  She was a generally cheerful, positive person, but her unexpected loneliness was nearly giving her ulcers.

  If she wasn’t careful, she’d soon have to throw homesickness into the bargain.

  To top it off, there seemed to be only humor-resistant bores in all of her classes, which was making her doubt her choice of major.

  All told, her introduction to Stanford felt like a minor catastrophe.

  Frustrated, Barbara looked up from the campus map she was holding, embarrassed to be looking like a disoriented tourist. For heaven’s sake!

  After her last lecture, she’d gone to the library and gotten herself a cup of coffee, which meant she should be in front of the School of Engineering. Instead, she was standing in a courtyard looking at a fountain and a group of students next to it engrossed in heated discussion. Apart from the small group, the courtyard was devoid of people.

  Barbara felt like crumpling up the map and tossing it into the fountain.

  Before the debaters could notice how lost she was, she beat a silent retreat, sure she wouldn’t survive another disgrace. Her plan had been to head straight back to her room and look over her notes before her next 101 course, but now it looked as if she might be forced to spend those hours finding her way back to her dorm.

  All she could do was crank up her grim sense of humor, she thought as she climbed the stairs back into the building she’d come from. Maybe she could start dropping breadcrumbs all over campus for orientation. At least then she wouldn’t have to scamper from one building to the next like an idiot with her stupid map.

  She lowered her eyes to study said map again, simultaneously pushing open the door with more force than it warranted. The door opened several inches but was stopped by someone behind it—someone who was now emitting a pained groan.

  Her head jerked up in fright. She’d just bashed someone’s head in with the huge wooden door! A blond someone. A guy, who was squinting at her with one eye. His other eye was shut, and he was rubbing his forehead with his right hand.

  Dismayed, Barbara slipped inside and stood before the victim of her door attack. He shook off his daze while she looked down at the array of textbooks scattered around him. He must have dropped them when the door hit his face.

  “Crap!” Barbara pulled a guilty face, barely daring to look the guy in the eye. She wasn’t normally such a klutz. “I’m really, really sorry! Are you okay? I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going!”

  The man gave her a smile and blinked quickly. “That makes two of us. I wasn’t paying attention either.” And Barbara was sure he would soon have a goose egg on his forehead thanks to that.

  Barbara suppressed the urge to giggle, instead asking sheepishly, “Are you hurt?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “You don’t think so?” Barbara repeated, alarmed.

  The man shook off the rest of his daze and rubbed his forehead again. “One of my professors keeps boasting about how this building is so ancient and even the doors are from the nineteenth century. I never believed him … until now. With such massive doors …”

  “Oh, God,” Barbara whined, disheartened. “I am so, so sorry!”

  “Why?” He shrugged and offered her a grin that made her think of a kid on the way to the principal’s office. “You didn’t build this place, did you?”

  She could no longer suppress a laugh. Giggling, she looked into his face, which couldn’t have been any more pleasant and friendly, even without the visible swelling on his forehead. Barbara felt her cheeks redden, and her stomach tingle. As she studied the young man before her, she registered that she was being studied with at least as much interest.

  The top of her head came right up to his chin, so she could see he had a dimple in his chin. And his eyes were an improbable blue. And she could also see he was hiding broad shoulders under his blue shirt, the sleeves of which were rolled up all the way to his elbows.

  Barbara swallowed as she struggled not to stare into his face or at his strong neck for too long. Hopefully he wouldn’t realize that she was wondering where he’d gotten that beautiful tan.

  As she frantically wondered how long she’d been staring at him—and had been stared at in turn—she cleared her throat, breaking the electric tension that had mounted between them. “Are you really okay?” she asked with genuine concern.

  “Of course,” he assured her pleasantly. “My head can take a beating.”

  “Even from a massive, nineteenth-century oak door?”

  His laugh did strange things to her stomach, Barbara registered, almost breathless.

  “Maybe we should be more concerned about the precious door. I’m sure my professor would fail me if I ruined it.”

  “Does that mean your education would then also be on me? Not just that … bulge?”

  As soon as she’d said it, she wanted the earth to open up and swallow her—quickly, before he could process her words and wonder if she wasn’t talking about the goose egg on his forehead. Before she could be tempted to sneak a peek at hi
s crotch, she fixed her gaze on the tip of his nose. She wasn’t usually so tongue-tied, but for some reason she was acting like an utter dork at the moment.

  Thankfully, he didn’t let on whether he’d caught any innuendo or Freudian slip. “Don’t worry,” he said instead. “My head is just fine, and I think there’s a good chance my grade will be okay too.”

  “But I still feel terrible. I should have been watching where I was going.” She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, wondering whether the sheer summer dress she was wearing was flattering. This was clearly a time for a moment of vanity. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

  He waved her apology aside. “My fault entirely. I was reading while I walked.”

  That made her remember his books, which were still scattered on the floor. “Your books! I—”

  Apparently, Barbara wasn’t the only one to bend down at that moment. Before she knew what was happening, her forehead hit that dimpled chin of his, and there was a thunk followed by a painful stab in her cranium.

  “Ouch!”

  “Ow!”

  They sprang apart.

  As Barbara rubbed the throbbing spot right over her hairline, she watched the handsome stranger tilt his head back and gingerly feel his chin, which had just learned exactly how hard-headed she was. When he tilted his head forward again, his gaze searched out hers, trying to gauge whether she was okay.

  As if on cue, they both started giggling, until he took a mockingly cautious step in her direction, holding out his hand for her to shake. “I’m James.”

  She felt all warm and fuzzy inside as she took his hand. “Barbara.”

  “So, Barbara.” He bent down again, slowly this time, picked up his books, and then straightened, letting his gaze travel over her with obvious curiosity. “How come I haven’t seen you around here before?”

  All of a sudden, her lips felt so dry that she hastily rubbed them together. Only five minutes earlier, she’d been wandering the campus utterly lost, and now she seemed to have stumbled upon what was likely the most attractive student Stanford had to offer. They stood face to face in a deserted hallway, he with his books in his hands, and she still clutching her stupid campus map.

  Though she didn’t want to look like a naïve and totally overwhelmed freshman, that’s exactly what she was. “I’ve only been here a week,” she admitted, “and I’m lost again.”

  “Lost?” His eyebrows, which were a little darker than his blonde hair, shot up. “Again?”

  Barbara chewed on her lower lip and nodded with a sigh. “Yes, again. I know it sounds silly, but I have no idea where I am right now.”

  He struggled to suppress a grin for a moment before finally informing her, “This is the School of Economics.”

  “What?” Knitting her brow, she stared down at her map. “But my map says it’s supposed to be the School of Engineering.”

  “Let me have a look.”

  Before she could react, he was standing very close to her, leaning over to glance at the map. Barbara held her breath involuntarily, feeling her own heart race. When she inhaled again, she smelled his clean scent.

  “Where did you get this?” he asked. He was standing far too close and looking far too good for her peace of mind. “The cafeteria is in the wrong place, and a bunch of buildings are missing. Here, give me a minute.”

  Without a word, he grabbed a pen, took the map from her, and, using his books as a base, started drawing things. After at least two minutes, during which she studied his profile, he handed her the map over with a satisfied nod.

  “Now you shouldn’t get lost anymore.”

  She blinked in confusion. “Thank you.”

  His lips curved into another wide smile. “And if you manage to lose your way despite my mapmaking artistry, you have my number now. You can call me anytime you need a tour guide, or someone to hit with a door, or even if you want to have coffee.”

  Her eyes darted to the upper left corner of the map, where he’d scrawled his phone number. Barbara swallowed and took a hasty breath. She definitely hadn’t been the girl with the most dates in high school, but she still recognized when someone flirted with her.

  “Coffee sounds good, actually,” she replied, her pulse racing as she measured him with an obvious look. “How about now? Do you have time? I’d like to make up for my attack with the door.”

  His reply was a delighted smile.

  Several minutes later, she was sitting across from him in a small café, sipping a cappuccino while he alternately sipped his black coffee and instructed her on the days it was best to avoid the cafeteria. They were sitting very close, their knees touching, but Barbara was surprised to realize that she felt utterly, frighteningly comfortable in his presence. It was almost as if they’d known each other forever.

  “Okay, now you have to explain why exactly I can’t eat there on Fridays.”

  “Because Friday is fish stick day.”

  She almost choked on her cappuccino. “Fish stick day?”

  His eyes sparkled with amusement. “You should see the professors loading their plates with fish sticks. It’s like they’re preparing for war.”

  The mental image of a gaggle of gray-haired professors in tweed blazers attacking a fish-stick buffet brought a smile to Barbara’s lips. “So I’m supposed to avoid the cafeteria because I’ll be trampled by a horde of hungry professors?”

  James shook his head and confided, “It’s more because my roommate got food poisoning last year after eating a ton of fish sticks. I’ve avoided them ever since. And the cafeteria serves them every single Friday, year-round.”

  “That’s good to know then.” She winked at him over the rim of her cup. Then, with genuine curiosity, she asked, “What year are you?”

  “I’m a sophomore, though sometimes it feels like I’ve been here forever.”

  Barbara rolled her eyes. “I’ve only been here a week, but it feels like forever for me, too. Since I keep getting lost and wandering around for hours on end.”

  “First of all, that happens to the best of us in the beginning. And second of all, it will get better now, what with your new and improved map.”

  She cocked her head to one side. “Do you mean to tell me you got lost on campus as a freshman too?”

  He nodded unapologetically. “All the time. I was about to resort to online classes.”

  Barbara smiled. His attempts at encouraging her were charming. “I don’t believe you. You were too good tour guide.” On the way over, he’d shown her a few things on campus, things she hadn’t known about until today.

  “You learn a few things when you wander around for hours on end.” James winked at her, his blue eyes sparkling. “Give it a few more weeks, and you’ll be the tour guide for another lost soul around here.”

  “Let’s hope so.” Barbara picked up her cup again and took another sip, fully aware that his full attention was on her.

  “You still haven’t told me what your major is,” he said.

  She lowered the cup and leaned back in her chair, watching him take one of the cookies piled high on a pretty little dish on the table between them. “It’s psychology,” she replied lightly, “but I’ve only just started.”

  “Doesn’t sound as if you’re enjoying it so far,” he ventured, proving that he was a very attentive listener.

  Barbara gave a hesitant shrug and let her gaze roam the café. “It’s interesting enough, and sort of fun … Well, it’s hard to tell whether it’ll really be enjoyable after just one week, but that’s not the problem. I haven’t really been able to warm up to my fellow classmates.”

  He stretched out his legs with a sigh, touching her left knee by accident. Barbara pretended not to have noticed, instead focusing on James’s face as he put his hands on his thighs and leaned forward to confess, “My major is economics, and I know exactly what you mean.”

  “Really?”

  He pursed his lips. “Some of my classmates showed up in a suit and carrying a b
riefcase … in our first semester. That tells you everything you need to know.”

  The corners of Barbara’s mouth curved upward. That sounded exactly like the description her brother Patrick had given her the last time he’d visited home from college. He was majoring in economics as well.

  “And you’re not like that?” she teased James. She was feeling more relaxed in his presence by the second.

  “Ha!” James wrinkled his nose. “Of course not! I don’t even play golf.”

  “You don’t?” Barbara giggled with glee as she crossed her legs. “I didn’t even know that was possible: an economics major who doesn’t play golf. You definitely can’t get your MBA without playing golf.”

  James raked a hand through his hair. “I’ll probably fail because of it, too.”

  “And here I thought you’d fail for destroying antique doors.” Barbara grinned. She’d all but forgotten that she’d met him less than an hour ago.

  “If that professor fails me, I’ll have to find another major.” He gave her a faux worried expression.

  “So, what would you choose?” she asked playfully.

  “I’m not sure.” He raised his hands thoughtfully. “Psychology is supposed to be kind of interesting. Plus, I’ve heard there are some female psychology students who tend to get lost and require help.”

  Barbara made a face at him. “You know, you might get kicked out of Stanford completely for destroying antiques. But not to worry, I’m sure there’s a clown college around that would be delighted to have you.”

  His laughter made her feel all warm inside, and her cheeks were aflame.

  “Oh, I’m sure my dad would be just as delighted to me earn a living making balloon animals at children’s birthday parties.”

  “Balloon animals are a grossly underrated art form, and wrongly so,” Barbara said. “Your dad should be thrilled.”

  James’s sigh sounded weary. “Unfortunately, my dad is a philistine.”

  “That’s too bad.” Barbara uttered a disappointed sigh. “You and I could have been a clown duo, since I have no idea how my studies will work out, either.”