by Isabel Morin
“I’d better get going,” I finally say, standing up. “It always takes longer than I think it will to get to Briar.”
Casey breaks off his conversation and looks at his phone. “Shit, I gotta go,” he says, getting up. “I’m headed to Briar, too. Sorry, Mon. I gotta run.”
Monica looks like she might cry. Trace and Josh have pity in their eyes. How many heartbroken girls have they seen Casey leave in his wake?
Casey and I put our trays on the conveyer belt and head for the door. I step outside, blinking in the bright sun. The air smells like hot grass and dry leaves.
“You have a class at Briar?” I ask.
“My materials lab is there.”
“But aren’t you a computer science major?”
“Yeah, so?”
He starts to walk faster, and I decide I’ll let him be on his way. While I’m a tiny bit curious about what his deal is, I definitely don’t need to be chasing after him when he’s in a foul mood.
He notices me drop behind and stops, waiting for me to catch up. “Sorry. It’s just…my major is kind of a sore point. But I didn’t mean to be a dick.”
We start walking again, and I slide him a look. “You better watch out. Your reputation for making all the girls swoon is in jeopardy. Monica didn’t seem too happy with you, either.”
“I thought that was over last semester.” He sighs. “Maybe she’ll decide I’m not worth it and forget all about me.”
“Like that ever happens.”
As soon as I say it, I regret the stroke to his ego. He lets out a laugh, his eyes crinkling, and my breath actually catches at his beautiful smile. I have to look away from it, it’s so beguiling.
“Materials is required for all architecture majors,” he says. “I really should have taken it last year, but I didn’t apply for the major early enough.”
I’m so busy defending myself against his smile, it takes me a second to realize he’s returned to the original topic. “What made you want to double major? Will it help your family’s business?”
“No. It’s just for me.”
I can feel his mood blacken again. There must be something deeper going on here, so I let it drop.
Just about everyone we pass says hi when they see him, their faces lighting up like they’re catching a glimpse of some movie star. He stops over and over again to have the same conversation—how was your summer, what did you do, blah blah blah—the girls smiling at him like they could eat him right up. The guys talk about the parties this coming weekend—there are always a bunch the first week back.
Finally Briar is in sight. One of the oldest buildings on campus, it looks like something out of a college catalog—weathered brick with ivy crawling up the sides and around the windows. The outside is deceiving, though. The inside was totally renovated a couple of years ago and now it holds state-of-the-art labs and lecture halls. There are some modern-looking buildings around campus, especially the science buildings, but the campus as a whole looks like it did a hundred years ago.
My grandmother was in the first class of women to come here in the early sixties, which was a big deal because her family had escaped Germany at the beginning of the war with almost nothing. I like picturing her as I walk around campus. She died my freshman year, but she got to visit me here once, and I feel her with me all the time. It keeps me from taking my time here for granted, like other people seem to do.
I used to think Casey was one of those people, but now I’m not so sure.
He stops again to talk to another couple of guys, but I’ve had enough. “I’ll see you later,” I call to the back of his head.
I continue down the path, thinking how exhausting it must be to be him. Then again, extroverts get energized by other people, and Casey is obviously an extrovert.
Clearly, I am not.
A few seconds later he catches up with me. “Sorry about that.”
“Hey, you can’t help it that everyone loves you.”
I meant it as a joke, but it might have come out a bit too sharp. Casey frowns and looks away, and my conscience gives me a hard pinch. I’m still trying to think of something to say when we go through Briar’s heavy doors.
“Well, I’m up on the second floor,” I say, suddenly awkward.
“Right. See, ya.”
He gives me his generic smile, and it’s like a slap in the face after seeing the real thing. Then he’s heading toward a group of students clustered near a door, their faces turned toward him like flowers to the sun.
…
The next day I get to the clinic at eight, then head to my eleven fifteen Ethics, Law, and Medicine seminar. I can tell from the first class it’s going to be great and probably help my senior project, too. Later in the afternoon I head to Professor Stein’s lab for three hours, and from there I go to the dining common to have dinner with Audrey and Jen. Audrey never shows, though, and as soon as I get back to our suite, I know why.
The sounds of sex coming from her room are unmistakable, and I quickly head into my room and shut the door. It’s been a long-ass day, and I flop onto my bed, unable to move for a few minutes. I’m starting to think I’ll stay like this all night, when Jorge from next door starts getting it on with God knows who. I don’t really want to know, because within a few minutes I already know way more than I wanted to about both of them.
I’ll admit, part of me is intrigued by what I hear on the other side of the wall. What exactly is happening to him to make him groan like that? And is it normal for it to last so long?
My curiosity only goes so far, though, and I’m really not interested in listening to my neighbor any more than I want to hear Audrey, so I head for the TV lounge down the hall. Lucky for me no one else is there, probably because the lounge on the second floor has nicer furniture and an even bigger flat-screen TV. Also, a lot of students have awesome TVs in their rooms. Audrey and I don’t have any TV. I can’t afford it, and Audrey’s parents don’t want her to have the distraction.
I’m laughing my butt off when Casey walks by in nothing but a towel around his hips, his hair wet and gleaming from the shower. He glances in and stops, smiling at me from the doorway.
“What’s so funny?”
I sit up straight, like I’ve been caught doing something wrong. “Inside Amy Schumer rerun,” I reply, trying not to stare at the hard ridges of his stomach I glimpsed yesterday morning.
The guy is ripped, and beads of water glisten on his shoulders and in the fine golden hair on his arms. Most guys wear bathrobes from the shower, but Casey’s room is only two doors down from the men’s bathroom, on the other side of the lounge, so I guess he doesn’t bother with that.
He’s got shaving cream in his caddy and a bottle of tea tree shampoo. I can smell the clean, sharp scent of his hair from where I’m sitting.
He swipes a hand over his head, scattering water drops onto the floor. “She’s hilarious.”
“Totally. No one can say women aren’t funny when they watch her.”
“Seriously, what is up with that? Lucille Ball was cracking everyone up sixty years ago.”
“You’ve watched I Love Lucy?”
“Sure.” He shrugs one muscled shoulder. “My grandma loved that stuff. I watched it with her back when it was on TV Land, or whatever.”
“That’s right! I wonder if they still run it.”
A car commercial is playing on the screen. He makes no move to leave.
“It just started,” I tell him. “If you feel like watching.”
He smiles wide, his whole face brightening, and moves to sit down.
“Aren’t you going to change?” I blurt out, my eyes going to the towel.
He looks down, as if he’s forgotten he was half naked, and his smile turns to a grin so naughty I stop breathing for a second.
“If you insist,” he says, still grinnin
g.
I roll my eyes and he laughs.
“I’ll be right back.” He heads out the door, humming the jingle from the commercial.
He’s back a minute later in a yellow T-shirt and silky blue track shorts that just barely hang onto his hips. I’m not sure he’s any less dangerous fully dressed. I’m amazed that I’m sitting alone in a room with Casey Grant. Not that it means anything. But still.
The next sketch is so raunchy, I’m kind of embarrassed to be watching it with him. I try not to squirm or even look at him.
“Are you blushing?” he asks, amused.
My face gets even hotter. “No, it’s just really warm in here.”
“I wasn’t insulting you. I think it’s cute.”
He looks sincere, and it’s actually kind of a sweet thing to say. Except that it’s also mortifying.
I stare straight ahead through the rest of the skit, willing myself not to betray any feeling whatsoever.
“You going to the party on Canal tomorrow?” he asks as a commercial comes on.
He must be talking about the huge Victorian Ed Curry lives in with something like eight other guys. Ed’s parents are loaded and rent it for him. It must cost a fortune, and he trashes it with at least one huge party a semester.
“Um, I don’t know. I hadn’t thought about it. I’ve never actually gone to one there.”
“You should go.”
A girl appears in the doorway before I can answer. She’s beautiful, her pale blond hair falling over her shoulders, her short skirt showing every curve.
“There you are,” she says, smiling at Casey. She glances at me and her smile falters.
He pulls his feet off the coffee table and stands up. “Sorry, I guess I lost track of the time. Jess, this is Hannah. Hannah, Jess.”
“Hi there,” I say, trying for a chummy smile.
She gives a weak smile in return, her glance flicking from me to Casey. Is it possible she thinks I’m a threat to her?
Casey seems oblivious. “We were just watching Amy Schumer’s show. Have you ever seen it?”
She shakes her head. “I don’t think so.”
She’s looking at him with such raw hunger, it’s painful to witness. The worst part is that he doesn’t seem all that excited to see her. He turns back to the TV, like he’s reluctant to leave. I feel so bad for her I give him a push on the ass with my bare foot. “Go on, it’s almost over, anyway.”
He looks down at me in surprise, then turns and smiles at Jess, his charm finally breaking through. Her face lights up and she gives him a radiant smile, and the disparity in his reaction to her is so obvious I have to look away.
After sitting here on the couch with him, I get how nice it is to be around him. The problem is, it’s just an illusion, something he turns on and off so easily, it doesn’t even count. Plus, I know how many girls he turns it on for, and there’s no way on earth I’d want to be in Jess’s shoes.
I don’t even think I’d want what Audrey has with Todd. It’s fun for Audrey, but it seems like Todd’s settling for her crumbs, when what he really wants is the whole meal.
Then again, who am I to judge? I have no idea what it’s like to be in any kind of relationship, good or bad. I’m sitting here alone watching TV while Audrey and Jorge are doing what normal college students do. Casey will probably be at it before long, too. There have been nights when I walked down the hall and heard people having sex in half a dozen different rooms.
And then there’s me, wondering if I’ll ever have a first kiss.
I watch a rerun of New Girl, but it doesn’t seem as funny as it usually does. When it’s over I go back to our suite. Audrey’s door is cracked open now, and I can hear her moving around in her room. I’m at my desk reading when she comes in. She’s on her way to the shower in her robe. Her face is flushed, her hair wild around her face.
“Ed Curry’s having a party tomorrow night,” she says, setting her shower caddy on the floor and flopping onto my bed. “I think we should go. Everyone’ll be there.”
“Casey just asked me if I was going to that.”
She sits back up, at full attention. “Casey asked you? When was this?”
“Just now, when we were watching TV. But it was no big deal.”
“Are you sure about that?”
“He might have been flirting a little, but that’s just the way he is. I think telling me about the party was more of a public service announcement. Besides, a girl showed up after that and he left.”
“I think we should go. It’s the perfect place for your debut.”
My instinct is to tell her no, but I’m tired of wondering what’s happening on the other side of the door. I swore I’d try new things this year, and I can’t refuse to do something when I don’t know how I really feel about it. It’s just like in medicine. You have to experiment and rule things out before you find the thing that works.
“Okay.”
Audrey stares at me in disbelief. “I thought I’d have to drag you there kicking and screaming.”
I just smile and shrug, too embarrassed to tell her I’m ready to unveil the new me.
Chapter Four
I spend Friday trying not to obsess over what’s going to happen that night at the party. This is not the time to lose my focus, so I spend most of the day in the library. At five o’clock I head to the med school for a panel on providing primary care in rural areas of the country.
There’s a huge shortage of primary care doctors these days because everyone wants to go into specialties, which pay way better. I’ve decided I’ll be an internist and primary care doctor. I know a lot of people change their minds once they’re in med school, but I really don’t think I will. I like the idea of working with a whole person and making sure they get the care they need. Everyone deserves to have that.
I sit with a few people I know and say hi to a couple of professors, including Professor Stein. Last year she asked me to help research a paper she was writing on infant mortality in the African-American population, and I’m hoping she’ll ask me to help her with something again this year.
I got into Carlyle on full scholarship because I worked my ass off in high school and graduated as valedictorian. Med school is insanely competitive, but it’s all I want to do. Which is why I work so hard and forgo parties and card games and other distractions.
Forgoing guys wasn’t exactly planned.
I’m pretty fanatical about keeping on top of my work, but even I can afford to go to one party. Who knows, maybe I’ll even have fun. Stranger things have happened.
These are the thoughts I carry with me through the discussion, then through the after-panel gathering at the back of the room over cheese and crackers and chocolate-covered strawberries.
Back at the dorm I shower, taking extra care while shaving my legs. Audrey pulls me into her room as soon as I enter the suite, a manic gleam in her eye. Laid out on her desk is enough makeup for a drag show. Beyoncé sings from her computer.
I try to remain calm. “This is not a rom-com makeover scene. Whatever you have planned, forget it.”
Her eyes widen, all innocence. “I merely laid some things out in case you wanted to try a different look.”
“What’s wrong with the look I have?”
“Nothing. But getting ready is the best part. Most of the time it’s more fun than the actual event. I mean, the guys will probably all be jackasses.”
I stare at her in disbelief. “Seriously? Then why are we going?”
“Because we won’t know for sure until we’re there,” she says, leaning toward the mirror to scrutinize her eyeliner. “Besides, lots of people are going. It’s not just about the guys.”
“Fine,” I say, like I’m doing her an enormous favor, and drop into her desk chair. “You can have your way with me. Just go easy, okay?”
She
surveys the makeup like a surgeon choosing her instrument, finally picking up a compact with earth tone eye shadows. Within a few minutes I’ve forgotten all my protesting, which was mostly to prove—to myself at least—that I’m not a total pushover.
Her makeup brushes flick here and there over my skin, and I close my eyes, oddly relaxed. Audrey hums along with the music.
“You look awesome,” she finally says, standing back to examine me.
And I kind of do. My hair is nearly dry and waves softly around my face and over my shoulders. My eyes are more defined, but the colors she used are subtle browns and golds that complement my hazel eyes. The mascara makes my lashes look way longer, and the blush defines my cheekbones in a way I’ve never been able to manage. Well, actually, I never tried, because the last thing I needed on my face was more red.
Audrey’s watching me, her face tense with worry. “What do you think?”
“I love it. Could you show me how you did it?”
She looks relieved. “Of course. Now for the second part of our pre-party preparation.” She picks up a paper bag that’s sitting on the floor and pulls out a six-pack of hard lemonade. “I think it’s best if you don’t walk into this party stone-cold sober. You had dinner, right?”
I nod. All those crackers with cheese totally filled me up.
Opening a bottle, I take a cautious swig. It’s sweet and tart, with just a bit of an alcoholic edge that I can totally handle. I finish the first bottle as I’m getting dressed.
“Easy there, tiger,” Audrey says. “I think that one is plenty for now. Remember, you’re a total lightweight.”
“But I don’t feel any different.”
“That’s because you drank it so fast. Give it a little time.” She eyes me critically. “The jeans look great, but you need a different top.”
“Like what?”
She digs around in a drawer and comes up with a black halter top that ties at the neck. My breasts aren’t as big as hers, but that’s the least of my worries.
