Change Of Season (43 page)

“Shut up and kiss me before the zombies rise.”

These moments, where her mouth found his and he held her against his pounding heart, were worth every agonizing instant of panic, worth all of the flashbacks and fear.  He’d quickly learned her patterns:  his grip never tight, his affection never sprung on her without warning.  He didn’t ask the whys – he simply gave her what she needed. 

Veronica was right:  he was her Evan.  Her protector.

Footsteps in the hall sent them scurrying apart, Autumn snatching her notebook from the sofa as Andrew dug in his backpack for some mystery item.  When the door knob spun, Autumn’s breath caught in her throat. 
Do I have my pass?  Oh, crap!

“I knew I’d find you in here!”

A slender blonde, perhaps in her late-twenties, threw open the door, leaning against the frame with a smirk.  Her hair was drawn back in a messy ponytail, her leather jacket and jeans an eerie match for Andrew’s staple wardrobe.  Glancing down at Autumn, the smirk grew wider.

“I also suspected you’d be here as well.    Of course, the entire campus would suspect that.”  With a wink, she extended her hand to Autumn.  “Gretchen Frey, unofficial leader of the Film program and a pain in his ass.”

Autumn shook her hand, bewildered.  “Autumn Brody.  Rival program.”

“Ah, the Juliet to Romeo!  Two programs, both alike in dignity and all that jazz.”  Gretchen wandered over to the editing desk, immediately reaching for the mouse.

“Hello, Mom.  Come to check my homework?” Andrew quipped.

“Can’t have my prodigal son flunking, now can we?  Get over here and show me where you’re at.”

With a feigned sigh, Andrew took over, rewinding his footage to the beginning and hitting play.  “Editing’s done.  Dialogue synched.  Overlaying the score next and finalizing.  Satisfied?”

Gretchen nodded.  “That’s a beautiful shot.  And yes, I am.  Half the class is barely entering the final edit.  I was losing hope, and you know what happens then.”

“You turn into the Film school Anna Wintour and torture us all,” Andrew replied.  “No thanks, Gretchen.  Any tips for me?”

“Hmm, seek ahead?  Middle-ish….  No, looks good.  Maybe a tweak on the contrast here if it doesn’t distort the fire in the background.  Otherwise, you’re good.”

Autumn watched in fascination as they exchanged thoughts on several other scenes, smiling to herself.  Maybe Andrew’s aunt was a witch, but Gretchen truly was his campus mom.  Her critiques were tempered with the kindness of a parent, that gentle encouragement and soft voice.  Their shared sense of humour was also uncanny.

“So Autumn!  I’ve heard so much about you.  How much do you wager was total BS?”

Autumn stared pointedly at Andrew, who was slumping in his chair, head bowed.  “I’m not certain.  I had no idea I was such a common talking point.”

Gretchen shrugged.  “He’s a guy.  Guys spend 95% of their time thinking about attractive people.”

Andrew kicked the floor, rolling his eyes.  “I do not!”

Gretchen huffed.  “Maybe 97% with you.  I swear, he’s rotated through every Dwarf from
Snow White
this term:  Sleepy, Happy, Bashful, Grumpy, Dopey, even Sneezy.  And he filmed a Doc for his project.  How cute,”

“Y’know, this editing suite is booked for a single student, Ms. Frey,” Andrew grumbled.

“Then I guess this gorgeous young woman has to leave, too!  Well Autumn, shall we go exchange stories? I have a few hilarious ones.”

Autumn laughed.  “Oh do tell!  Please tell me there’s something cliché like an atomic wedgie in the mix.”

Gretchen giggled, turning towards Andrew.  “I like her.  No wonder you busted out the guitar and serenaded her.  I can’t wait to torment you in Introductory Politics next semester.  A double dose of Mr. Daniels on my schedule.”

“Just my luck,” Andrew replied, smiling.  “Not like I planned that, or anything.  Nope, I didn’t drop Law and switch sections for English to arrange that.”

“Wait a second.  You’re teaching Politics?”  Autumn scrambled for her bag and yanked out a somewhat crumpled piece of paper.  “I think I have your class…  Yes!  Monday through Thursday afternoons.”

“You didn’t tell me you were taking a twelve!” Andrew rolled his eyes.  “Damn it, woman.  I have that class.”

Gretchen rubbed her hands together mischievously.  “The two of you at once?  Oh, I am going to
love
next term!  Speaking of, if you’d like another pass Autumn, just let me know, okay?”

Autumn nodded.  “Thank you, by the way.  Libraries don’t do it for me.”

Gretchen shuddered.  “Creative minds may be archived there, but it’s a little artistically crowded for writing your own masterpiece.  I understand completely.  Good to meet you, and Andrew, thank you for being your usual punctual self with finals.  See ya in class!”

The door had barely slammed behind the teacher before Andrew was out of his seat, rummaging in his backpack.  He grumbled incoherently, tossing aside stray pens and an unknown textbook before finding a rumpled paper similar to Autumn’s.

“That’s it:  schedule comparisons, now.”

Shrugging, Autumn passed hers over.  “I didn’t know you were taking Politics.  You never mentioned it, and I assumed from how knowledgeable you are that you’d done what I’m doing and taken it last year.”

“Assume, you, me, you know the – Math!  You’re taking grade 12 Math?”

“Mmhmm.  I take it from your look of glee that we match?”

Andrew grinned, returning her schedule.  “And here you thought we had no time together.  You’re going to grow sick of me by midterms.”

“Doubt it.  That’s actually wonderful.  V and I have History together, and Evan’s in my Lit class.”

“He’s a cunning linguist, then? No wonder Veronica’s always smiling.”

Autumn giggled.  “You’re terrible!”

“But not wrong,” he countered playfully.

Autumn flushed.  “Girl talk is private, and not on my Math final.  You want me to pass and get into grade 12 next term, don’t you?”

“Good point.  Back to the books with you!”

Andrew nudged her towards the waiting sofa, returning to his computer and a waiting coffee, long gone cold.  With a sigh, she flipped to the next problem set.

“Andy?”

“Yes?”

“What exactly did you tell Gretchen about me?”

With a nervous look, Andrew spun around in his chair.  “Um…  I’ve told you that we’re close, right?”

Autumn nodded slowly.  “And?”

“Before I answer you, let me ask a question of my own.  When did you first notice me?”

Autumn thought carefully.  “When I accidentally hid in here from security.  Awkward, to say the least.  Why does that matter?”

Andrew shook his head.  “I noticed you a week or so before that.  If I flip through my sketch journal, I can probably find the date.  You were with Veronica and she was singing Stevie Nicks.”

“Wait, what?  My birthday?  How did you-”

“Guitar.  Bench.  Playing along?”

Autumn gasped as it came back to her.  “You had a beard?”  As he nodded, her eyes widened.  “And you noticed me enough to remember me?”

“Well, you were being sung to.  Loudly.  I think the quad noticed you,” Andrew said wryly.  “That was your birthday?  I better mark that down.  Anyway, the next day I shaved and Gretchen walked up to my desk and asked who the girl was.  So, in answer to your question, she knows a lot.”

Autumn blushed.  “You shaved after seeing me?  That’s such a Hollywood moment.”

“Shut up, Brody.  I was trying to look less Unabomber.  You’re bruising my male pride.” 

“Gretchen totally did the ‘sitting in a tree’ thing on Monday, didn’t she?”

Andrew groaned.  “Yes!  She’s insufferable, but I’d do the same to her, so I can’t be too pissed.  Now, Math!  Failure is not an option.”

“Yes, sir!”  Autumn saluted and reached for her pencil reluctantly.  “Or we could say to hell with it and listen to music.”

“Autumn!”

“I’m just saying that it’s an option.”

A brief silence, then a soft chuckle.

“Give me five minutes to properly wrap things up.”

Gotcha, Daniels.  Again
.

***

With twenty minutes left before curfew, the two of them decided to call it a night and return to their respective dorms.  Autumn dreaded their parting, knowing full well she’d find Nikki had shuffled things around again:  a chair in the centre of the room, or her toiletries tossed to the floor.   She’d asked her to stop it, but it had no effect.  Her ghostly friend was apparently pissed.  Maybe she hated finals, too.

“I don’t know what I’ll do over the break,” Andrew murmured.  “We weren’t speaking for so long, and now you’re back…”

“I know,” Autumn said.  “We can phone.  Text.  Skype?”

Silently, she was already plotting a solution, but she didn’t dare get his hopes up – or her own, for that matter.

“Skype for sure.”

“Hold up!”

The voice, bitter and impatient, echoed across the quad.  Startled, Autumn instinctively leaned into Andrew as they turned around.

“Bloody hell, it’s Grant,” Andrew muttered.  “Isn’t it past his bedtime?”

“Apparently not,” Autumn whispered. “He hates me.”

“Me, too.  Must be his lucky night, nabbing both of us.”

The Biology professor reached them quickly, almost eagerly.  Andrew was right: this was a coup for him.  It wasn’t past ten, though. 
What’s his damage
?

“Mr. Daniels and Miss Brody.  It’s rather close to curfew.”  His voice dripped with disdain and Autumn bit back the urge to call him Severus.

“We have ten minutes.  We were studying sir,” Andrew answered quietly.

“In the Media Studies building, I noted, which is strictly off limits to anyone not in Film or Drama.  Last I was aware, you’re in Creative Writing, are you not Miss Brody?”

Autumn fumbled in her purse, hands shuddering.  “I-I have a pass.”

“Pass?”  A sneer.  He was calling her a liar silently.

“She’s been assisting me with my Film project,” Andrew chimed in.  “Ms. Frey authorized her.”

“Here.”  Autumn held out the worn note, holding her breath.

Professor Grant studied it briefly, huffing angrily as he confirmed the signature looked authentic.  “Well, fine.  Get to your
separate
dorms.”

With a furtive glance towards the Athletics complex, he stormed off, hands thrust deeply in his pockets.  Shaken, Autumn tucked her pass back into her wallet.

“Prick,” Andrew mumbled.  “Why does he care so damn much?”

“I don’t know.  Let’s just get away from him, please?”

His arm wrapped around her shoulders, gently leading her back to Ashbury.  It was their first quasi-date all over again:  pizza, music, and a jerk leaving her unsteady and afraid while Andrew defended her.  Autumn was torn between the drunks and Grant as to which was more frightening.

“The guy should retire if he’s so miserable here.”

“Has he been here long?”

Andrew shrugged. “I think so.  Someone said he even attended Casteel as a student.  Never checked, but I’d believe it.  How else would he know to stalk the tunnels for students?”

Makes sense
.  He’d been on her trail almost immediately that night, effortlessly pursuing her through the twists and doors.  Perhaps, like Andrew, he’d had far too much time on his hands to explore. 

“You should get in,” he said sadly, the two of them standing before Ashbury’s entrance.  “I guarantee he’ll check your FOB swipe tomorrow.  Mine too.”

“Are you going to sleep now?”

“Nah.  You?”

Autumn shook her head.  “Never do.  Have to wind down first.”

His hand slid through her hair, gently pulling her close.  Their kiss was brief, mindful of Lorraine and other adult eyes, but it steadied her after the brush with authority. 

“Text me,” she whispered.

“Of course.  Get inside where it’s warm.”

With a final hug, she darted inside, knowing if she glanced back, she might not obey.  She might follow him to Trudeau, slip through its halls to his room and seek peaceful sleep. 
Six more days of class and I’m home
, she thought as she jogged upstairs. 
Then again, Chris is… somewhere
.  Autumn had finally assented to Emma contacting a friend in Corrections, who confirmed only that Chris was still in violation of his probation and was last spotted in Western Ontario. 

Go west, asshole
, she cursed silently, unlocking her room. 
Far, far away
. 

Her phone beeped softly as she stripped out of her clothes, tossing them on the spare bed.  She checked the text quickly, juggling it while unhooking her bra.

Safe and sound.  Miss you
.

Yanking on her t-shirt, she tapped out her reply.

Wish I was there.  I get my best sleep with you
.