Best Served Cold (7 page)

It was not only raining, it was a cold, biting downpour. I shivered into my coat and tried to tilt the umbrella so that it kept out the worst of the wet.

The weather matched my mood. I knew Giff wanted to help, and that he was going so far out of his way made me love him even more. But I still wasn’t sure I could handle the idea of faking a date with someone I’d never even met, even for Giff.

He’d always been in my corner, I remembered. He kept Liam honest most of the time—even when Liam would rather he kept quiet.

We were all three in their suite. Liam sat at his desk, his nose in a thick textbook, and I was curled up in his bed, reading. Giff sprawled across his own bed, his back against the wall, nursing a beer. It wasn’t his first of the evening, and I could hear the slur in his voice, although he wasn’t saying much.

I turned over and craned my neck to see my boyfriend. He frowned into his work, and I sighed, wondering why I had bothered to come over at all.

The book I was reading was a love story. I traced a finger over the spine, thinking.

“Liam, why did you ask me out?”

He didn’t even look up. “What?”

“When we first started dating. Why did you ask me? You didn’t know me at all. What made you do it?”

He finally glanced up, just the faintest annoyance in his eyes. “I don’t know, I’d seen you around. I thought you were cute. Why?”

“Just wondering.”

“Bullshit.”

Giff took a long pull of his beer and repeated the word. “Bullshit. Tell her the truth, Liam. You needed someone to take to that fundraiser with your parents. Your date backed out, you needed another girl. That’s why you asked Jules.”

I shook my head. “No, that’s not right, Giff. Liam never asked me to a fundraiser. Well, not then, anyway.”

“No, because he wanted to check you out first, make sure you’d work. But when he asked you out, you said no.” Giff lifted his bottle in a mock salute to his roommate. “No one turns down Liam Bailey, so that’s when he started chasing you.”

“Shut up, Giff.” Liam’s voice was tight. “You’re drunk. You don’t know what you’re saying.”

“Sure I do. You just like to re-write history. Make it how you want. But Jules wants the truth, don’t you?” He swiveled his eyes in my direction.

“I just...” I trailed off, uncertain. What had I wanted? Did I really expect Liam to tell me he had been secretly in love with me from afar and finally got up the nerve to ask me out? I wouldn’t believe him, even if he had.

“Julia.” Liam’s face was tight. “Okay, yes, I needed a date for the fundraiser. But I didn’t just pick you because you were convenient. I stood behind you and Ava one day at Beans, and I listened to the two of you. And then I started seeing you around campus. Maybe it was the fundraiser that made me talk to you, but I would have asked you out sooner or later, even if my date hadn’t fallen through. All right? We cool? Can I get back to work here?”

I nodded. “Sure.”

Across the room, Giff studied me, compassion on his face. Abruptly, he leaned forward, sliding off the bed.

“I need a candy run,” he announced. “And I can’t go by myself like this. Jules, walk over with to the SU with me?”

I hesitated. It was a week night, but I’d still hoped for some one-on-one time with Liam.

But he waved at me. “Go ahead. I need to finish this chapter, and it’ll be easier if I’m alone.”

I don’t remember what Gifford and I talked about that night as we walked, but I know Giff didn’t mention Liam at all. And neither did I.

“
This
is what you want me to wear to a party at Alpha Delt?”

Ava met my eyes in the mirror and grinned.

“Absolutely.”

“I don’t know, Ave. Are you sure you know what you’re doing? You and Giff?” I turned around to face her. “I don’t want to look ridiculous. Hell, the last thing I need is more people making fun of me.”

“No one’s going to make fun of you. Look at the hotness of you.”

I rolled my eyes and pivoted to check out the mirror again. My jeans were just faded enough not to look brand new, and the scoop neck black shirt clung in the right places. Still, it was subtle. There wasn’t a hint of cleavage, and the jeans weren’t even tight. My black boots were flat and cuffed, hardly hot-mama material. I looked more Victorian than vampish.

“Why do you get to wear the cute outfit?” Ava’s black skirt was short and flirty. She’d paired it with a slouchy gray sweater that we’d found at a thrift shop before Christmas. The thin knit accentuated her curves and showed more skin than my roommate usually displayed.

“Because I’m not there on a mission. And besides, your outfit is cute, too. But if you dress up all out of character, it’s going to look suspicious. Like you’re trying to get Liam’s attention, not like you just happened to be at a party where he is, too.”

“Right. I know.” I drew in a deep breath. “Okay, let’s go.”

It was a still winter night, so cold and clear that the stars seemed very close. I could see our breath as we shivered along the path to fraternity row. Most everyone who lived on campus walked to frat parties since parking was limited in that area, and the campus police tended to patrol more often for DWI on weekends.

I heard music coming from Alpha Delt as we approached, and my stomach turned over. Ava must have sensed it—or heard it—because she grabbed my arm.

“No turning back now,” she said, her voice muffled by the scarf wound around her face.

“That sounds incredibly ominous. Like something I’d hear in a horror movie right before zombies pour out of the frat house. Are you sure we shouldn’t just go back home, put on our jammies and watch the second season of
Buffy
?”

“Pretty sure. Come on. Man up. Or rather, woman up. Look at it this way. You’re getting material for your blog, right?”

“I guess.”

Kristen and I had been waiting for Dr. Turner when she arrived at her office that morning. She greeted us with one arched brow as she unlocked the door.

“I assume you ladies have a question about the assignment and that you haven’t come to sit at my feet and listen to tales from the stone age of journalism.”

I pushed off the wall I’d been leaning against. “I always love to hear your stories, Dr. Turner.”

She laughed once, a dry and skeptical sound. “Come in and sit down. Ask your questions.”

Dr. Turner was silent as Kristen and I explained what we wanted to do. She was past master at keeping a poker face, and I couldn’t read what she was thinking.

When I stopped talking, she drew in a breath and made a steeple of her fingers beneath her chin.

“This is a very interesting topic, ladies. It’s the first year we’ve done the seminar, so I wasn’t sure what to expect from my students—maybe a lot of noble causes, possibly some nonsense from the boys...yes, I know, but even in college, boys are less mature, by and large.”

I nodded, and Kristen shifted in her chair.

“And I’m not insensitive to the fact that this is a potentially slippery slope you girls propose to tackle. It could easily fall into juvenile male-bashing.” She sighed deeply. “But on the other hand, you’ve both been my students for several semesters, and I flatter myself that I’ve gotten to know you a bit. I’m going to approve this project. But I want you to be very careful, thoughtful about what you write and conscious of the responsibility you’ll bear.”

“Thanks, Dr. Turner.”

She pursed her lips and leaned back in her chair. “I know I seem like a dinosaur to you girls. But I still remember what it was like. My worst experience in that regard was well after college, but nonetheless...” She shook her head. “Another time.”  

I thought about her last statement as Ava and I climbed the porch of the Alpha Delt house. There was something comforting about knowing my particular misery wasn’t so lonely.

The music pounded around us now, and I winced. Ava shot me an encouraging smile and opened the door.

I had expected the same scene from freshman year, but Giff was right; it wasn’t quite as frenetic. People stood in clumps and clusters, sat on the sofas and chairs. It was loud, but not out of control. I recognized a couple of faces, and I was relieved to see that more than one girl wore jeans and sweatshirts. I wasn’t going to stick out as much as I’d feared.

We wove our way into the room. A few people greeted us, and I kept out a wary eye for Jack Duncan. I wasn’t sure if I was more nervous about the possibility of seeing Liam or the idea that I had to leave the party with Jack.

Ava squeezed my arm and steered me toward the light of the kitchen. A cooler was set up in one corner, next to a table covered with various bottles and plastic cups. A guy stood with his back to us, leaning over a short dark-haired girl. When they heard us come in, he steered the girl around the corner into a darker hallway.

“Not so bad, right?” Ava had to almost yell the words into my ear.

I raised my eyebrows at her and shook my head. “It’s loud! And there’s people making out or worse on almost every flat surface.”

She rolled her eyes at me. “Stop it. Grab a drink and go mingle.” Pulling out her phone, she checked the time. “You’ve got a little more than an hour before we need to be walking out the door with—you know. Try to have a good time, okay?”

I heaved a sigh. “I can’t hear myself, let alone you or anyone else. I’m taking my drink outside. Just for a minute.”

“All right. Go in the back, looks like they have a deck with space heaters.” Ava pointed to a windowed door. “I see someone from my psychology of Shakespeare class. I’m going over to say hello.” She picked up a bottle of beer and disappeared into the adjacent dining room.

I found some soda and filled a plastic cup about half way up, leaving out the ice. The amber liquor in a bottle with a pirate picture on the front looked promising, so I added a healthy splash and swished it around. A cautious sip sent delicious warmth down my center, and I smiled. That would do the trick.

I wasn’t the only one with the idea to duck outside. Five tall heaters were scattered around the wide wooden deck, and people huddled near them, holding drinks. A few were smoking, but they stood closer to the porch railings.

I made my way to the only unoccupied heater space and concentrated on enjoying the relative silence.

“Julia?”

I turned, startled, as a guy standing at a neighboring heater stepped closer to me. He wore a brown canvas jacket over a green hoodie and carried a cup that matched mine.

“Hey, Jesse.” I managed a smile, even though my heart was pounding.
What was he doing here?

“I was wondering if I might see you tonight.” He slugged back his drink and set the empty cup on a nearby chair.

“Yeah, well...” I glanced around. “I don’t do fraternity parties, but my roommate dragged me out to this one.” I pointed at the door. “She’s inside, but it was too loud for me.”

Jesse nodded, holding his hands up to the heat. I closed my eyes, cursing inside.
Could I sound any more anti-social?

“I was an Alpha Delt at SUNY, and my roommate’s brother is the fraternity president here at Birch. He asked me to come over tonight. I figured why not, but then I got here. I’d forgotten how much I hated the parties.”

I laughed. “Sorry. Why were you in a fraternity if you hate parties?”

“Hey, there’s more about frats than parties. I joined because I thought it would look good on my resume, and I wanted to be part of something...” His voice trailed off, and he shook his head. “Okay. Truth is, I joined to meet girls.”

“Aha!” I sipped my rum and cola. “And how did that work out for you?”

He shrugged. “I met my share, I guess. I had some fun. But then after a while parties weren’t really my thing. I’m more of a talking-and-getting-to-know-you guy than a getting-drunk-and-hooking-up-with-skanks kind of guy.”

“Does that imply that I’m a skank, since here I am at a frat party?”