“Ouch. What’s the band?”
“No band right now. He couldn’t play all summer, so they found a new guitar player. The band he was in was called Ten Speed.”
I made a face, and Noah laughed. “I know. I kept telling Adam that he couldn’t be in a band called Ten Speed and still hold his head up.”
The waitress brought our breakfast, and I watched Noah surreptitiously. I realized that I didn’t know until now whether he was right or left-handed. I knew a lot of other things about Noah, like that he and Bo had been friends since the seventh grade, when they got into a fight and were sent to detention together. Noah hated his father and loved tart things like Starbursts and Skittles, but he wasn’t much of a chocolate fan.
Four years of letters can make you think you knew someone really well. Sitting across from him for the first time watching him eat bland wheat toast, I wondered if my collection of facts stood for actual parts of the whole or simply random tidbits I could trot out if I was playing Noah Jackson Trivial Pursuit.
“What are you doing after breakfast?” Noah asked.
“I’m taking a picture of the Alpha Phis for a rush invitation.”
“Is that a regular photo or one of your special ones?”
“Well, it’s a miniature one, if that’s what you mean. It’s not like I invented the technique.”
“Are you going to show me how you do one of those?”
I shrugged slightly. “I guess, if you want.”
“I want.” He looked at me as if waiting for something.
“Like today?”
“Such an enthusiastic invitation.” He made a tsking sound. “Why yes, Grace, I’d love to come and be your assistant today.”
“I actually already have one—it’s Lana.”
“Isn’t she a member of that house?”
“Yes, but she’s a bad member who’s using me as an excuse to get out of her rush duties.”
“You know, if you weren’t doing it for them, they’d have to pay someone,” Noah said.
“Yeah but I’m happy to do it as a gift.”
“They think it’s good enough to put on their stuff.”
“I get that I can make money off of it. I just don’t want to.”
“I’m just trying to point out that what you do has value.”
“Got it.” I picked up my toast and bit down hard.
“So, are you seeing anyone?” Noah asked, abruptly changing the subject.
“What?” I choked in surprise on my toast and swallowed an unchewed piece in order to avoid spitting it all out on the table.
“Seeing someone. Dating. Hooking up. Hanging out?”
I wished I could say that I had found someone really wonderful, and that he’d come all the way to Central for nothing. I didn’t think my old line about being a cranky cat spinster was going to work for me here. Instead, I asked him, “Are you?”
“Nope. And I haven’t been for a long time.”
“Since like when?” He was sharing, so I might as well take advantage. I ignored the rest of my breakfast. I was hungry for information. What had he been doing for the last couple of years?
“Since high school.”
I sat back, stunned. He hadn’t dated anyone since high school. That seemed preposterous, and I told him so. “I don’t believe you.”
He wasn’t offended by this, but instead gave me a half smile that hinted at something more. “Truth. Ask Bo.”
He pulled out his phone and shoved it toward me. Handing someone your phone was like giving them the Pulp Fiction briefcase. You couldn’t take it and not look inside. I was pretty sure I wasn’t ready to view the contents of his phone, no matter how tempting. With great effort, I pushed the phone away.
“Like no dates, hookups, hangouts at all?”
“Like no serious girlfriend since high school. It’s not easy to maintain a relationship while deployed, and I didn’t have anyone I cared about enough to make that effort before I left.”
“You wrote to me for four years,” I pointed out.
“I can make an effort when I want to.” He looked at me like this was important, but I couldn’t get past the idea that Noah hadn’t dated anyone seriously since high school.
“But since you’ve been out?” I pressed.
“Not everyone can just get into Central, Grace. I was busy studying, taking practice tests, and trying to make myself into an interesting candidate for admission. Girls were the last things on my mind.” He wiped his mouth with a napkin and pushed his almost spotless plate away. “But you haven’t answered my question.”
I didn’t want to make it seem like I was sitting around waiting for him, even though I had been. In a moment of panic and stupidity, I lied.
“I’m not dating anyone, but…” I paused intentionally, and took a sip of my Diet Coke. “I’m interested in someone.”
Noah’s eyebrows raised.
“Who is this lucky guy?”
“Ah… Mike Walsh.” Mike was actually the two-year crush of a different library co-worker, Sarah. She was always looking at him with puppy dog eyes when she thought no one was watching.
“Is he a frat guy? Jock? What?”
“He’s my student supervisor at the library.”
“So what’s the problem?”
“What do you mean?”
“You like him, but you aren’t dating.”
The thing with making up stories is that people always wanted details. I rubbed my suddenly sweaty palms together and tried channeling Sarah. What would she say? “I like him, but he’s never asked me out.”
“Isn’t this the 21st Century?” Noah threw my own words back in my face.” Why are you waiting?”
“I don’t think he’s interested.” Good lord, what was with the inquisition? I felt my cheeks heat up. Lana would know immediately that I was lying. I didn’t know how intuitive Noah was, but I dropped my gaze to my half-eaten breakfast to avoid looking at him in the eye.
“How do you know? I think you girls assume that guys are mind readers. Or impervious to rejection.”
I thought about this. Why didn’t Sarah just ask Mike out? It was obvious to everyone in the library that she liked him.
“I thought I had made it pretty clear,” I muttered.
“Call him now and ask him to a movie.”
“Now? My cellphone is dead.”
“Use mine.” He gestured toward his phone still lying face up on the table.
“I can’t.”
“Why?”
“Because I don’t know what his phone number is.” I had it programmed into my phone, but I never called him. I never had occasion to.
“Lame, Grace. You like this guy but you don’t know his digits?” That did sound bad. But other than for a few people, I didn’t memorize phone numbers. Your phone did that for you.
“Where is he right now?” Noah pressed.
“Um, I have no idea.” I didn’t know what Mike did on the weekends. Other than our occasional, Thursday night, after-work get-togethers, I didn’t hang out with him. I hung out with Lana and her crew, which usually meant sorority and fraternity people. Mike was GDI—Goddamn Independent.
“You’ve had a crush on a guy you’ve worked with for the past year and you don’t know his phone number or how he spends his R&R time?” Noah looked at me skeptically. I shrank back into my side of the booth. I promised myself that I would never lie again. I wanted to throw up my hands in surrender and confess all.
“He might be at the library,” I said. I didn’t know Mike’s work schedule, but he was often at the library either working or hanging out.
“On a Saturday morning?” Noah looked at his watch. “At eleven o’clock?”
“Why do you care?”
“I’m your friend,” Noah replied and placed his forearms on the table, leaning closer to me. “I want to help you out. Isn’t that what friends do?”
“I’ve never had a male friend before,” I admitted. “I don’t know.”
/> “Just pretend I’m one of your girlfriends, then.”
“Riiight.” Because that would be so easy to do.
“Let’s go to the library.”
“Right now?”
“Yes.”
“Don’t you have anything to do today?” I tried to think of an excuse to get out of this, but saying you had to study two weeks into the new year wasn’t ever believable. Laundry, though, was a good excuse. Everyone had to do laundry. But before I could trot out my excuse, Noah was standing up ignoring my question.
I dug in my pocket and pulled out my debit card. I placed it on top of the wallet carrier that the waitress had dropped off earlier when she cleared our plates. Noah took out his wallet and threw down a couple of bills to cover the total plus a big tip. He stuck my card in his pocket.
“Hey, that’s my card.”
“Don’t make me hurt you, Grace.” He fended off my attempts to grab my card back. “I’ll return your card when we get to the library.”
“But I wanted to pay,” I said. “That’s what friends do. They pay their share.”
“You can buy next time,” Noah said and pushed me forward and out the door.
The library was on the south end of the campus, near the diner. It was a quick walk over, and I didn’t have time to think up any other plausible reason we should go back to the apartment. Noah’s long legs were eating up the pavement, and I felt like a tiny Chihuahua trying to keep up.
“Are we racing?” I asked.
“Sorry.” Noah slowed down. “Not used to walking with anyone as short as you.”
“I’m not short. I’m above average height for a female.” For some reason, Noah’s lack of experience walking around with shorter people was kind of pleasant. It fit in with his earlier confession that he hadn’t dated any one seriously since high school. Or maybe it just meant he dated really tall women.
We walked into the library, and a girl I didn’t know too well was manning the desk. I thought her name was Molly or Marie or Maria or something.
“Hi, Grace,” she said. I winced inwardly, feeling like a tool for not knowing her name when she knew mine. Faces, I could remember. Names, not so much.
“Hi. Is Mike around today?”
“Actually, yeah, he just came in and was going down toward Periodicals.”
“Great,” I said. I was batting negative one thousand today.
I walked slowly down the stairs but didn’t dawdle at the door. I knew I should’ve introduced Noah, but since I didn’t remember her name, I left one embarrassment to head to another.
“Not going to introduce me?” Noah whispered.
“I don’t remember her name,” I admitted.
“Ouch,” he laughed.
“Next time I pause, introduce yourself,” I instructed.
“Yes ma’am,” he said, trying to sound obedient but failing. I could practically hear his smile through the words.
We walked downstairs, turning left toward Periodicals, and sure enough Mike was there, leaning on the desk, flirting with some girl wearing a sorority T-shirt. Her Greek letters were appliquéd in white on the back of her pink tee.
“That’s Mike,” I pointed out.
Noah stopped and turned toward me. Then looked back at Mike, disbelieving. Mike tossed his hair out of his eyes. Once and then again. “Mike.” It was a disbelieving sound.
“What’s wrong with Mike?” I asked, faking my indignation. Mike was decent-looking, but he had long bangs and was constantly flipping them out of his face. You couldn’t talk with him for more than five minutes without a head toss.
He was on the thin side, which was another negative strike against him. You never date a guy who can wear skinnier jeans than you. I glanced furtively at Noah’s thighs. While Noah wasn’t heavy, he was big enough that I knew he wouldn’t be wearing my pants, ever.
Noah just shook his head at me and walked forward toward the pair. “Hey, Mike Walsh, right? Didn’t you come to my house out at the Woodlands before school started?” Mike turned toward Noah and stuck out his hand.
“Dude, yes, it was awesome. You’re Noah Jackson right? You fight?” Mike made a little move, like he was ducking and avoiding a fake punch.
“Right. I hear you work with my friend, Grace.”
Mike peered around Noah, and I gave him a limp wave and a weak smile.
“So I was thinking about going to the movies tonight. You want to come?” Noah was saying.
“Um, yeah, that would be awesome.” Mike looked suitably surprised, as any normal human being would be when some total stranger came up and asked them to see a movie.
“Great. Grace here is going to come, and I’m bringing a friend,” Noah emphasized the friend with a wink at Mike. He winked back uncertainly, his eyelid lowering slowly as if he wasn’t sure what he was winking about. I wasn’t sure either. Noah was bringing a friend? We were doubling?
Then my heart sank to my feet when I saw that Sarah was working the periodical desk and had heard this entire exchange. Her expression accused me of violating the girlfriend code.
I wanted to jump back there and assure her that I didn’t have designs on her boy, and that despite the fact that she and Mike were not dating, I considered him off-limits. But I couldn’t do that and keep up my stupid fiction with Noah. I’d have to explain myself later, if she let me.
I extricated myself from the situation moments later by saying I had an appointment at noon. I left Noah standing there chatting with Mike about some kind of fighting stance.
Noah
Grace’s abrupt departure, while her man of interest was throwing a head fake, was more encouraging than anything she had said all morning. When Grace brought up Mike during breakfast, her tone made me instantly suspicious. She drew out the name slowly, like she had to make one up. My first thought was that she was faking. When the name was attached to a real person, someone she worked with at the library, I admit that I may have had a moment of doubt.
But seeing him, I couldn’t believe it. While Grace wasn’t super-communicative in her letters about her dating life, this guy didn’t fit her. He wore jeans that were so tight I wondered if they were from the women’s section of the store. I wanted to lop off those stupid-ass bangs of his. I could barely see his eyes. I didn’t trust anyone whose eyes I couldn’t stare straight into. This guy looked like a stiff breeze might snap him in half.
If I pictured Grace with anyone, something I tried not to do, it would be someone like her brother. A jock. Or, because she loved photography, maybe one of those foreign war correspondents. But not this guy, who looked like he spent more time in front of the mirror than an entire sorority house.
Inviting him and Grace to a movie was risky, but if I was there, I could get a better sense of whether she actually liked him—in which case I’d have to kill him—or whether she was just using him to put me off.
It could be that Grace was just setting up a series of tests for me to pass, like the Twelve Labours of Hercules. That was fine. I’d complete each challenge, and then we could be done with it.
Even though my reunion plans were less than stellar, it was all working out. Grace was talking to me. I didn’t have to skulk around campus anymore. I was putting together the final piece of my overall plan. Get out of the Marines, get a degree, get Grace.
It was all going to work out fine. I pulled out my phone to text her, only to realize that I still hadn’t gotten her number.
Item number one. Get Grace’s number.
Chapter Six
Grace,
I’m sorry I haven’t written for what must seem like months now. I’m currently sitting on my rucksack, with an envelope addressed to you on the bed. I’ve been writing you back lots of things in my head, but I can’t seem to find one minute to actually put pen to paper. By the time you get this, I’m not even sure where I’ll be.
I ended up getting two of your packages at the forward operating base. Mail delivery is really spotty of late. We are all cursing
and celebrating the supply truck’s appearance. Cursing because it never gets here on time and celebrating because of its assful of goodness.
I was the most popular guy for a day when I opened those packages. And yeah, we got a ton of mileage out of hazing Bo with the movie The Notebook. He does kind of look like the guy who plays the lead.
Yours,
Noah
P.S. Weather. So cold I’m wearing socks to sleep.
Grace
I slammed the apartment door open. I’m surprised we don’t have gouges in the wall from all the times I’ve banged the door open.
Lana was lying on the sofa, and Amy was sitting in my chair painting her toenails. Being used to my door dramatics, Lana didn’t move, but from Amy’s curses, I must have made her mess up a nail.
“What happened?” Lana called as I walked over to the kitchen to pour myself some water.
“Noah just asked me to go on a date with him,” I paused, and Lana and Amy started to squeal with excitement. “But I’m going with Mike Walsh, and Noah’s bringing a ‘good’ friend.” I held up my fingers to do air quotes around the word good.
The squeals turned to groans of dismay. “No way,” Lana said.
“Yes way. Worse, this girl who I work with was there when Noah set up the double date, and she has a crush on Mike. She looked like I had stabbed her in the heart with a fork.”
“You kind of did,” Amy pointed out.
“How’d this happen?” Lana asked.
“I told Noah I was interested in Mike,” I admitted. Groans from both girls filled the air.
“Why?” they both exclaimed.
“Because I didn’t want him to think I was some pathetic dolt who sat around waiting for two years for some guy to come and say ‘Let’s be friends,’” I gave a half-hearted defense of my stupidity.
“Bet you didn’t expect this,” Amy said, completely deadpan. I almost lunged for her. Lana glared at her, and Amy drew back and made a zipping motion with her fingers over her mouth.
“What are you going to do?” Lana asked.
“Have the best damn time of my life tonight.” I stomped into my room and slammed the door shut.
Undeclared (The Woodlands) Page 7
