Finding Dell (26 page)

I extended my arm and tried to snatch them away.

He held them away from me. “I’d recognize these anywhere,” he laughed. “Why are you trying so hard to hide them from me?”

My cheeks flared red. “I must have forgotten them the last time I did laundry. I’m so embarrassed that anyone who has come down here since then has seen my underwear displayed on this table like that. I didn’t plan for that,” I sputtered.

Will tossed the underwear back on the table behind me. “Of
course you didn’t plan for it. But what’s the big deal? Relax.” He reached forward and ruffled my long blond hair. He still stood unnecessarily close.

“Sometimes you need to let go, Dell. Don’t worry, don’t plan.”

“I’m not very good at letting go. And I’m not just going to leave a pair of my underwear out for all the world to see.”

“No, leave them. No one knows they’re yours except me. No one’s judging you. Do something that makes you uncomfortable and don’t take everything so personally.”

Will took my hand and led me away from the poker table. We sat down on the low couch, backs against opposite armrests, facing each other.

“Did I tell you I need to get reading glasses?”

I snorted. “I told you that a year ago. You could never read the alarm clock. You were always late to class.”

“I didn’t need to see the clock then. I had you there for that.”

He fixed me with a steady gaze across the couch. The way he looked at me was deeply intimate, as if he’d known me all my life. Like he was remembering me, but not just from last year—from
before
, in some nameless existence where we were always together. I realized the intimacy of his gaze was true recognition.
How did he do it, after all this time?
I wondered.
He must have seen the real me at some point and never let it go
.

I held his gaze for a long moment.

“I don’t think you should get glasses. I don’t want to be obsolete.”

He leaned forward. “There’s something I never told you.” He dropped his voice to a whisper. “Sometimes I asked you to read the clock for me because you scrunch up your nose in a really cute way when you squint to see the time. And sometimes I could see the clock, but I wanted to lay there with you instead.”

My breath caught and I waited for him to kiss me.

Instead, laughter bubbled down the stairs and Will pulled away. A Southern twang dusted the lilting rises of the laughter. The voices turned the corner and Helen stumbled into Tennessee when she saw Will and me on the couch. Tennessee held Helen’s hand and pulled her closer when her laughter died down.

“Dell! I thought you already went home for spring break.”

I shook my head and smiled. “Not until tomorrow morning.”

Helen blushed. “Could you not tell anyone. . . ?”

“Why would I tell anyone about you studying for psychology with Tennessee?” I asked with a smile. “If you two have any good notes, let me know.”

“Thank you,” Helen whispered.

Across the room, I saw Tennessee’s arm flex and could tell that he was squeezing Helen’s hand with reassuring affection.

They turned to climb the stairs and Will started to clap slowly, picking up speed until he was applauding their entrance and quick exit, and Tennessee glanced back with a wink. When they disappeared, Will collapsed into me. Feeling his chest shaking with laughter made the missed kiss worthwhile. I tossed my head back and closed my eyes and thought that if this were living in the moment, I could live in infinite moments with Will and his laughter.

CHAPTER 28

THE WALLS OF
the Student Union bookstore were lined with expensive texts and manuals, highlighting so many subjects that I was reminded of the narrowness of my field of study. Near a display of graphing calculators and neon highlighters stood an aisle of greeting cards.

It was a drizzly March afternoon and the cuffs of my jeans were soaked from unseen puddles. My umbrella dripped on my jacket as it dangled from my wrist.

I bit my lip as I riffled through the cards, searching for one that fit my complicated relationship with Will. The card needed to be something funny and witty, clever but just cute enough that he’d know I was interested in getting back together. Last week, over spring break, he’d sent me dozens of texts. When he sent “
You better come out for my birthday
” with a smiley face, I knew I wouldn’t miss it for anything. It was the anniversary of the day we got together.

I reached for a card with a picture of a dancing strip of bacon on the cover. “Bacon is sizzling hot, and so are you. Happy birthday to someone I love almost as much as I love bacon,”
read the message inside. I frowned and slid the card back into its designated spot. This was going to be difficult.

Another girl joined me in the aisle, her rain boots clomping as she moved closer in the small space. Awkwardly, we maintained a dance of reaching for, examining, and rejecting cards.

I stifled a laugh when I pulled out a card with a Tyrannosaurus Rex on the cover, its stubby arms spread as wide as they’d go. “T-Rex loves you
this
much. Happy Birthday!” I couldn’t give Will a card that mentioned the word “love,” though, so I stuffed it back in the display case reluctantly.

Upon deciding that I was bordering on obsessive, I settled on one that said “Hope you have a whale of a birthday,” with a photo of an orca on the cover. I paid at the front counter and stuffed the card into my tote bag before heading out into the rainy afternoon.

As I walked through the woods, I spotted Dean up ahead, his chin bent to his broad chest as he hurried under the dripping branches.

“Dean, wait up!” I called.

I hoisted the umbrella over his head, stepping close. He looked grateful but tired. We fell into step as we walked across a bridge crossing over gushing water.

“I’m glad I ran into you. I need to ask you for a favor, but you can’t tell Ruby about it.” His elbow hit my arm as he readjusted his backpack.

I groaned. “Dean, I’d do anything you need me to do, but you know I can’t lie to Ruby.”

He shook his head. “Not a lie. I need help on a project for my history class. I got a bad grade on the project I turned in. My professor said it wasn’t creative enough, whatever that means. She said that if I redo my project and turn in a new one, I won’t fail my midterm for the class.”

“That’s generous that she’s giving you a second chance. Where do I come in, and how is Ruby involved?” I stepped over a puddle as Dean waded through, kicking up enough water to soak my cuffed jeans anyway.

“My first project wasn’t creative enough. You’re creative. Can you help me rethink my project?”

“Oh, that’s all? I can do that.”

“You’re saving my life, Dell. I need that class to graduate. I don’t want Ruby to know, though. She can’t know that I failed my first project. And she might not want to spend as much time together if she knew I wasn’t doing well in my classes.”

I felt a flutter of recognition at Dean’s words. I wondered if Will had made a similar proposal to someone last year, when we were seeing each other. He rarely went to others for help, but maybe if he had, he would have gotten better grades and lived in Paso Fino as planned. I saw a similar situation playing out in my head with Dean and Ruby, and for her sake I suddenly vowed to do whatever it took to help Dean get a good grade on his midterm project. Maybe I could save their relationship in the way I couldn’t save my own last year.

The trees broke and it was raining harder outside the canopy of dripping branches, which were dotted with green buds signaling the start of spring. We crossed the street to Wild Mare Point.

“I won’t tell Ruby,” I said. “When’s the revision due?”

Dean sighed heavily. “Tomorrow morning. 8 a.m.”

“But . . . tonight’s Will’s birthday party.”

I stopped, but Dean kept walking out from under the umbrella. Startled by the sudden burst of rain, he turned quickly and a wave of understanding washed over his face.

“Dell. You promised.”

My heart fluttered when I thought about missing Will’s birthday party, when I was sure tonight would be the night we got
back together. The card I bought him burned in the tote bag under my arm.

Then I thought of how many nights I’d spent crying to Dean and Ruby about the loss of my relationship, and I knew that if I could help him, and in turn, their relationship, I might avoid spending those same nights with Ruby someday. She didn’t deserve the heartache I felt, not if there was a way I could keep them together.

I took a few steps forward and stretched the umbrella over Dean’s head again.

“Fine, but it’s up to you to tell them why we’re both mysteriously skipping the party tonight.”

He swung a big arm around my shoulder and pulled me closer for a one-armed hug, and a little of the regret I felt at missing the party melted away.

The next morning, after Dean turned in his project—a creative take on social landscape during the Vietnam War as seen through the artwork of the decade—I was stationed at a Mac in the communications building computer lab, working on a project for my digital art class. I was adjusting the contrast of the background when my phone rang and Will’s name appeared on the screen.

“Hello?”

“Dell, hey. I’m, uh . . . just waking up.” Will’s voice sounded hoarse. “It’s too bad you couldn’t come last night, but Ruby gave me your card. Can I ask you a question?”

I glanced around the computer lab and bowed my head, hunching my shoulders to shield my phone from view in the cell-phone restricted area. “Of course. What is it?”

“Did you give me eleven dollars in a whale card for my birthday?”

“What are you talking about?”

Will cleared his throat noisily and I punched the volume button on my phone louder. It had been so long since he initiated a phone call that I savored the sound of his voice in my ear.

“I found a card from you and it had eleven bucks in it.”

I laughed. “That’s probably your leftover money from the bar, silly. The card is from me, but I didn’t give you cash for your birthday.”

“Oh, okay.” Will paused and I waited expectantly. “That makes sense. Listen, what are you up to right now?”

“I’m working on a class project in the computer lab.”

“Cool. I’m going to head to the studio, but you should come over later and we can hang out.”

My heart skipped a beat and I wondered if I actually gasped into the phone. “Yeah, sure. Okay, bye, Will,” I said, my voice threatening to rise in octaves.

After he hung up, I stared at my phone for several minutes before I turned back to the computer screen. The pixelated image in front of me blurred and I knew there was no use in concentrating after Will’s phone call.

The apartment looked different from when I’d last been there at Christmastime. There were posters on the walls, mostly from classic rock bands and mafia movies. I knew this was Rocco’s influence on the room. I could see him in the absence of Will.

Will crouched in front of the TV to put a movie in. My muscles tensed while I waited for him to sit down again. His choice of seat was critical in how the night was going to turn out. So far, I’d gauged his behavior as cautiously flirtatious.

He sat down on the center cushion of the couch, next to me. We didn’t touch, but he could have sat in the recliner across the room, so I decided it was a telling choice. I wanted desperately
to study his movements and see if he was inching closer to me, but every time I cast an involuntary, sidelong glance at him, I cringed at my obviousness.

When the movie ended, I sensed that it was a turning point in the night. I leaned forward with my elbows on my knees, bracing myself to stand.

“It’s getting late. I should go home.”

“No, stay. We’ll watch another movie.”

“Okay, maybe just one more,” I said without hesitation. “After the next one, could you give me a ride home?”

Will ran a hand through his hair. “What are you hurrying home for? It’s a Saturday night. Do you have plans for later?” he asked as he dropped from the couch and crawled to the TV. Something in the way he darted to the TV betrayed his eagerness.

I raised my eyebrows at his back and realized he was stalling, that he didn’t want me to leave tonight at all.

“No, this is my plan,” I said as I fought a swell of butterflies in my stomach and tried not to smile. “I’ll use the bathroom before the next movie. It’s this way?” I asked, pointing down the hallway.

Will nodded and I felt my way to an open door in the dark hallway, pausing to glance into the shadowy bedrooms on my way.

I braced my hands on the edge of the porcelain sink and took deep breaths to settle my nerves.

Am I supposed to stay the night?
I wondered. It felt like last spring, when we were neighbors and I was blissfully unaware that he might not always be there for me, just two doors away.

I lifted my head and tucked my hair behind my ear as I examined my reflection. My eyes were an especially vibrant blue as they sparkled with anticipation. I hadn’t felt so alive in months.

When I returned to the living room, Will was sprawled out on the couch. I felt a familiar panic rise in my core and I didn’t know where to sit.

Noticing my expression, Will patted the sliver of cushion in front of him. He was lying on his side on the couch, stretched out so far that his feet draped over the armrest.

“It’s more comfortable to lie on the couch to watch a movie,” he said. “Lay down and I’ll hit play.”

Hesitantly, I sat down on the edge of the couch and tilted my body until I was lying in front of him, my back curled into the curve of his chest. I tugged at my hair, trying to arrange it artfully around my head so it wasn’t draped over his face.

Will’s arm was under my body, settled against the curve of my breast. He reached his other arm above me and rested it on the couch in front of me.

“It’s more comfortable if I put my arm here. Is that okay?” he asked from behind me, his breath tickling my ear.

“That’s fine,” I whispered.

This pose felt more intimate than casual friends would allow for a night of movie-watching, but I strained to act nonchalant.