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She closed up the registration program, beaming up at him.

“Well, if you’ve got a minute, my daughter sent me an e-card
and I can’t for the life of me get it to play on my laptop.”

“Sure, Irene,” Jude said, forcing himself not to groan.
“Let’s go check it out.”

: : :
: : : : : : :

Indigo stared out the smudged subway car window, unfocused
eyes on the flickers of light and shadow. Her mp3 player was cranked painfully
loud, the angry strains of Velvet Revolver echoing and buzzing her ears.
Wrapped in the motion of the train and the blanket of sound, she was in a
cocoon, separate from the rest of the world. It wasn’t a comfort, per se, but
it steadied her. Indigo liked that
most days
. The trouble was, the rest
of the time, she liked the unpredictable, the dangerous and damaged.

She could feel herself slipping toward that again.

The bell rang inside the car and the train slowed as it
neared the station. She sat up straighter, her stomach tightening into a knot.
This station led to one of the newly resurgent neighbourhoods in the city.
Townhouses in this area had been bought up by university profs and moneyed
middle-class families. The shady oak-lined streets that had once been the home
of drug dealers and pimps were now full of fat-cheeked children and picture-perfect
families. Indigo sneered, the thought inexplicably distasteful.

She only looked because it was
his
station.

The train shuddered to a stop, doors pulling open, and
throngs of people began to push their way inside. A young mother with a baby in
a stroller forced her way toward Indigo, taking the other half of the seat, two
teens and a middle-aged man coming in behind her. Indigo grimaced as the woman
pushed the baby up next to her legs. She turned, searching for another seat.
Finding none, her eyes drifted back to the platform, watching the crowd the way
she always did at this station. She
knew
he’d probably still be at the
university at this hour, but she still looked.

She didn’t know how
not
to wait for him.

The crowd thinned as those leaving traded places with those
entering. Indigo had just relaxed against the seat when a man’s blond head
appeared in the distant crowd. Her body tensed, attention honing onto the
single figure. He was facing away from the train, but the hair tipped her off.
Wavy blond locks brushed over the back of his suit collar.

“It looks messy,” she’d said to him one night as they lay
in his bed. “Not like a real professor at all.”

 “A ‘real’ professor,” he’d laughed. “And who exactly
am I competing with for your attentions, Indigo?”

The train started up with a lurch and she slid forward,
bumping the woman next to her as she followed the figure with her eyes. Her
fingers reached out on their own, pressing the glass in sudden panic. Like a
silent movie, Indigo saw, rather than heard, someone calling out to him. It was
a woman in a skirt and heels, her arms pinwheeling to get his attention. The
train had begun to move but Indigo’s gaze still followed, hope and pain tangled
together. At the last second, the man turned, laughing.

Indigo’s chest crumpled in defeat.
It wasn’t him.

She slumped back against the seat, ignoring the sidelong
glances of the mother next to her.  The train pulled away from the
station, disappearing into the next stretch of dark tunnel, and her mind spun
back to the present.

What she needed, Indigo knew, was someone ‘nice’, but her
heart always had different plans.

: : :
: : : : : : :

Marq Lopez was already waiting at the bus stop when Jude
made it out of the tech dungeon. His hands were shoved deep in his pockets, and
he paced nervously in the late-afternoon chill.

“Hey, Marq,” Jude said with a smile. “You didn’t have to
wait around for me.”

Marq turned, pulling a set of keys from his pocket and
jangling them. “Thought you might like a ride home, man. It’s cold tonight.”

Jude stared at the keys in confusion. “You bought a
car
?”

Jude knew Marq Lopez, and although he might be one of the
best programmers in the Tech Department, he had his fair share of financial problems.
The guy was the best person to party with, but the worst to lend money to. He
just didn’t plan. Ever. A car made no sense.

Marq grinned, gesturing down the street. “C’mon,” he said
proudly. “Just picked it up yesterday.”

“How?” Jude coughed.

“I finished up the contract I was telling you about,” he
said. “Told you it was worth the time.”

“Fuck me,” Jude groaned.

“In your dreams,” Marq cackled, punching Jude in the
shoulder. “So come on! I want to show it to you.”

The two of them walked for half a block, jealousy turning
down the corner’s of Jude’s mouth. He wished that he’d agreed to help Marq with
the programming contract, but it was too late now. Halfway down the street,
Marq stopped.

“There she is,” he breathed. “Whaddya think?”

Jude’s mouth fell open. The sportscar by the curb was
candy-apple red, the interior black leather.

“Ho-ly
shit
, Marq!” he gasped. “How in the hell did
you finance this?!?”

Jude was still struggling to pay off the last of his student
loans from university. His mother wanted him to ‘value his education’, and that
meant paying for it himself. A car –
any car!
– was out of the question.
Marq laughed, leaning back on the car and drumming his fingers on the roof.

“Didn’t have to finance it,” he said with a wink. “Paid it
off.”

Jude’s head bobbed up in shock. “You’re fucking with me.”

Marq opened the door, and climbed in, waiting until Jude did
the same.

“When I said that the contract was worth the time,” he said
smugly, “I wasn’t kidding you.”

The engine started with a roar, and Marq pulled onto the
street in a squeal of tires, Jude dumbstruck beside him. In seconds they were
heading away from the university: the forty minute bus ride reduced to mere
minutes. When they stopped in front of the aging apartment building, Marq was still
grinning.

“So what
do
you think?” he asked. “You haven’t said a
damned thing.”

 “What I think,” Jude grumbled, “is you’re an asshole
who likes to rub your good luck in your friend’s face.”

“I bet I can change your mind,” Marq said. “So?” he
prompted.

“So
what?”
Jude snapped.

Marq snorted.

“So can I change your mind?”

Jude stared at him, struggling to follow where this was
going.

“I just got offered another contract,” Marq explained, “and
I need your
help to get it done.”

: : :
: : : : : : :

It was only five when Indigo got back to the apartment, but
in the autumn gloom, it was already dark. Leafless trees beside streetlamps
cast skeletal hands over the sidewalk, needles of wind stabbing under her coat.
She took the stairs to the fourth floor, shoulder aching with the weight of her
book bag. The incident last year had left her leery of the elevator and the
people who hung around it. It was one of many reasons she wanted out of this
apartment, out of New York, out of this chapter of her life.

She was panting by the time she made it to the end of the
hall, her back slick with sweat. Glancing both ways, she unlocked the door,
then shoved the edge of the door open with her shoulder. She dropped her bags
on the floor and locked the door behind her in seconds, releasing her breath
with a sigh.
Safe.

The heady smell of cooking led her toward the kitchen.
Shireese stood at the stove, sautéing vegetables, the counters cluttered with
various bowls and spice bottles.

“Oh my god, that smells good,” Indigo breathed, reaching
into the pan to snatch a piece of half-cooked pepper.

“Get out of my kitchen,” Shireese said cheerfully, smacking
her knuckles lightly with the spoon. “You’re worse than a stray cat.”

“You love me anyhow.”

“True,” Shireese said, “but I like cats too. That’s not
saying much.”

Indigo laughed just as Shireese turned to pick up a bowl of
slivered almonds. Before she could turn back around, Indigo grabbed two more
pieces from the pan, stuffing them into her mouth and chewing, open-mouthed, as
they cooled. Shireese glared at her, pointing to the table with her spoon.

“Go!” she ordered. “I need ten more minutes and I’ll have it
done.”

“Tastes amazing already.”

Shireese went back to cooking and for a few minutes the two
friends caught up on their day. Tanis, Shireese’s girlfriend, had another
concert coming up, and was wondering if Indigo would do the posters again. She
agreed, and the conversation shifted to school: the troubles with the video
project, the unexpected meeting with Jude Alden, and then the coffee afterward.

“I’m surprised he remembered my name,” Indigo mused.

“You know him?” Shireese asked.

“He was the guy from O’Reilly’s that night. The one you
dragged me off of.”

Shireese turned from the stove, staring at her in concern.
“Jesus! He’s a prof at the university too?”

“No,” Indigo said carefully; she knew what a sore spot
Shireese had about last spring’s events. “Jude works at the university, but
he’s not a prof. He’s one of the nerds in the tech department.”

Shireese nodded, pulling the pan off the burner with a tea
towel.

“And?”

“And nothing,” Indigo said. “We had coffee.”

Shireese pushed the finished stir-fry into a bowl,
uncharacteristically quiet. After a moment she peered over her shoulder. “Nerds
can be nice,” she said sagely.

“Don’t,” Indigo grumbled. “He’s worse than a nerd.”

“Worse?” Shireese chuckled. “Not sure how that’s possible.”

“Because he’s kind of cute, but he
knows it
. Total
frat boy. Worst kind.”

Shireese tapped the spoon on the edge of the bowl, smirking.

“You didn’t seem to mind when you had your tongue shoved
down his—”

“I said
stop!
”

Shireese spun around, flicking the tea towel over her
shoulder with a snap. She was watching Indigo with half-closed eyes, full lips
twisted up into a sardonic grin.

“Neither of you were stopping,” she teased. “And I’m not
gonna stop now...”

“Fuck off,” Indigo growled, but Shireese kept talking.

“It’s good you’re finally talking to other guys. You’ve been
out of the loop for too long, honey. You’ve gotta start living again.”

Indigo crossed her arms. “I’m not telling you
anything
anymore!”

 “I’m not bugging you,” Shireese grinned. “I’m just
saying it’s nice you went out on a coffee date. It’s time for you to move on,
hon. It has been time for months.”

“It wasn’t a date,” Indigo insisted. “I had a computer
problem in class, and Jude fixed it, and then we had coffee. That’s it. Nothing
else.”

Shireese shook her head, turning back to the stove.

“Bet you ten bucks your frat boy thinks different.”

Jude woke to knocking. It faded for a few seconds only to
return, the sound burrowing inward, moving under the surface of sleep. He
rolled to his side, pressing his face into the pillow.

“Go away,” he mumbled.

The knocking stopped, door opening. “So you
are
in
there,” Elliot laughed.

Footsteps crossed the floor seconds before the curtains were
thrown back with a hiss, the soft shadow replaced by cruel light. Jude groaned,
tossing an arm over his eyes.

“Fuck off!”

Today was Saturday, he was almost
certain of that.
For the first time in ten solid days, Jude
could
take the day off. After
the gruelling hours he and Marq had been pulling – full day shifts in the Tech
Department, and nearly as many hours programming each night – he needed to sleep.
Today was the day to get it.

“Get up, you slob,” Elliot ordered gleefully.

Jude opened his eyes a slit. “What the hell is your problem,
anyhow?”

Elliot stood against the window of his room, outlined by
light. Jude couldn’t actually see his roommate’s face, but he could imagine it:
the gap-toothed grin, unruly mop of red hair, eyes crinkling with Machiavellian
delight. It was a look Jude had grown to know too well over the long years of
their friendship. In high school, Elliot had laughed at the self-inflicted
misery of Jude’s hangovers, showing up at dawn to harass him out of bed.

A decade later, nothing had changed.

“You’n Marq been working on that project for two weeks,”
Elliot said. “It’s time to take a break.”

Jude shoved himself up on his elbows. “That’s what I’m
doing
!”

“Then get out of bed, you lazy ass,” Elliot laughed. He
moved away from windows, so that Jude could see him, auburn hair as bright as
his grin. “You’ve cancelled on going to the gym with me the last four times in
a row. Today you GO!”

Jude gave a resigned groan before sitting up. He knew from
experience that when Elliot Baird got an idea, there was no talking him out of
it. When they’d been kids it had been massive Lego installations and schoolyard
adventures. As teens that focus had turned into weekend hiking trips and
all-nighters editing video. Now it was life
off the computer
. Grumbling,
Jude tossed his legs over the side of the bed. It was time to suck it up and
get moving. He glared at Elliot, daring him to say
one more thing,
but
Elliot wasn’t watching. He was pulling the closed doors of the closet open,
rummaging through the interior in search of Jude’s gym bag.

“You’re a terrible friend,” Jude complained.

“I’m a better influence than Marq is,” Elliot snickered. He
threw a pair of sneakers down at Jude’s feet. “Now get your ass out of bed.”

Jude sighed. There was no getting out of it.