Waiting for a Girl Like You (17 page)

Diana narrowed her eyes and spoke in a super-villain voice. “Yes, you will.”

Alex tried to grab for the door handle behind her, failed, and tried again. She knocked it open with her back and half fell out the door. The only other reliable place to look for Roger was his house. Carla might be there, but she’d have to take that risk.

She gave up all pretense of calm and ran to the bus stop. The two early arrivals already waiting took one look at her and stepped out of the shelter. Six years she’d been at this campus. Six. It had never looked so dangerous and shadowy before. On the bus, no surprise, she got a seat to herself. Through the windows, she watched the scenery slide by. She had never been to Roger’s house before. He never invited her to mixers or had her bring anything from his office. Roger didn’t want her around Carla, as Carla was such a harpy. She’d only met the woman twice.

See, that was the first mistake. Believing Roger’s take on Carla when he went to such extreme lengths to keep them apart. Maybe she should have been watching more spy movies.

The bus left her two blocks down from the house. It was a beautiful neighborhood at the peak of summer lushness. Sprinklers swishing away, half a dozen little kids in bright bathing suits leaping through the water under the watchful eye of a slim older man with a copy of the Wall Street Journal under his arm, the dean of the psychology department trimming his hedges. How normal. The front windows of Roger’s house were open and white curtains billowed through them. Bob Seger wailed about how rock and roll never forgot.

Hopefully, it did. Marc needed to forget all about her before he found out what she really was.

Before she could chicken out or Bob Seger started to sing another song that would remind her of Marc, she marched up to the front door and knocked.

The woman who opened the door had short strawberry blond hair in a kerchief. Carla. Where the hell was Roger?

“Alex!” Carla said. Her smile did not look out of place. Her face seemed to naturally fall into that expression. Hmm. “Hi. Come on in.”

“Hello, Carla.”

“I am so happy for you. Roger said you’d finished your thesis and were seeking treatment for your social anxiety this summer.”

My what?

“Roger just ran out to get another gallon of paint. We’re doing the dining room. You can join me for some iced tea while you wait.”

Carla escorted her through the house to the kitchen. She was healthier than Alex expected, like she’d just walked out of a spinning class on her way to Zumba. “Jamie is at the neighbors and the baby is asleep upstairs. I feel like I haven’t had five minutes adult conversation in a year. Roger tells me you switched your thesis to Plath. Poor Melanie. She used to babysit Jamie for us.” Carla poured a tall glass of tea for Alex. “What drew you to Plath?”

Alex tried to open her mouth, but her lips were sealed shut. Roger described Carla as this depressed creature who was only interested in their child and spent her days watching soaps in a darkened house. Of course, Roger had also told Carla she had crippling social anxiety. Roger should start writing fiction. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be here.”

“Why?” Carla’s gaze was wholly innocent and curious. “Am I overwhelming you? I’m sure it’s not easy to deal with social anxiety.”

“I don’t have social anxiety. I’m not even shy.”

“Really? But that was why Roger said you never came to our parties. You couldn’t stand all the people.”

Roger never wanted me to come to the parties because he knew if I got friendly with you, I’d dump him. As long as you were the shadowy monster Roger portrayed, I could somehow justify screwing your husband. And if I tell you now what’s been going on for the past three years, it’s going to break your heart, and now that I’ve met you, I like you and I couldn’t stand to do that.

“I shouldn’t be here.” Alex stood up. She wanted nothing more than to flee back under her rock where all the slimy awful things lived.

“So soon? You haven’t drunk your iced tea.” Carla stood, too.

“I’m not thirsty. I’ll talk to Roger tomorrow. Thanks.”

Alex managed to walk to the bus stop more or less like a normal person. Her own life, she could ruin that. Diana and Roger, she’d enjoy taking down. Diana because she was nuts and Roger because he was evil. But Carla? How could she ruin Carla’s life simply because both of them had made bad decisions about the same man?

Somehow she’d allowed herself to be maneuvered into this slaughterhouse chute and now there was no way out.

* * * *

Marc leaned on the counter of the little convenience store attached to the cafeteria beside Alex’s building. The cafeteria was closed until the term started, but the convenience store was open, and the kid behind the counter was counting his lucky stars that he’d drawn the short straw and gotten this shift. “Here you go, man. Now, what can you tell me about Alex Perkins?” Marc slid the autographed photo across the counter.

“Wow. Total wow.” The clerk burned a few seconds staring at the photo. “Alex Perkins. She’s an RA in Montague.” The clerk gestured in the direction of the building Marc had seen on the way in, but was now obscured by two walls.

“What’s an RA?”

“She’s in charge of her floor. Health and safety. Crap like that.”

Well, that explained everything. Alex had a job being in charge of crap on her floor. This kid was a fount of vague and useless information. “Have you seen her lately?”

“I haven’t, but Teddy, he’s the other guy who works here, said she came back early from summer break and moved into her room. There’s nobody much on campus right now. Summer session is over and freshman orientation doesn’t start for another week.”

Marc filed the information. Whatever it all meant, he might need it later. “Do you know where she might be now?”

The clerk shrugged. “Beats me. Unless she already has a book list and went to get her books. I think she’s a grad student, and they can get pretty tight with the profs, so they can get their book lists early and avoid the jam up at the bookstore.”

All fucking Greek, but more than he’d gotten out of the registrar. He was never going to get what he needed out of these people. He wasn’t even sure he was asking the right questions. “But she’s been seen here?”

“Teddy said he saw her. No reason for Teddy to lie. Why do you want to see her?”

The registrar girl had wanted to know that, too. Wouldn’t give him any info, but thought he should tell her everything. “She’s been doing some research for me.”

“Oh, that makes sense.”

The girl at the registrar had believed it, too. So college didn’t require brains. Or maybe the brainy people managed to get out of working summers.

“She doesn’t come in here much. She’s pretty careful with her money, and she must get her groceries at the store.” The clerk made it sound like she had a disease.

Marc leaned farther over the counter. “Now think. It’s really important that I find her. Where could she be?”

“Um, I dunno.” The clerk licked his teeth. “Wait. I’ll call Teddy and see if he has any ideas.” The clerk whipped out his iPhone and made the call. Marc feared for the future if this dipstick was it. After the initial explanation, the clerk’s side of the conversation deteriorated to uh-huhs and okays. In the middle, he ran a bunch of register tape and Marc though he might have to revise his previous worry because Teddy seemed to have a bit more on the ball. Then the clerk said thanks and hung up. “Teddy says Alex is working on a master’s degree in Brit Lit and she might be at either the library, her advisor’s office, or his house.” The clerk held out the piece of register tape that listed addresses for the three locations. Teddy did have it together.

“Great. Thanks a lot, man.” Marc headed for the library first. If he saw Roger, he was going to belt him one, so he should put that visit off as long as possible. His phone started vibrating just as he started up the ramp to the library doors. Suzi. “Yeah?”

“Why are you looking for a Brit Lit tutor?”

“Why do you ask?”

“It’s all over Twitter.”

“Already?” Marc leaned on the metal railing. He couldn’t have left the registrar’s office more than an hour ago. The sun shone around him and several students walked past in a cluster, ignoring him and proving that he wasn’t the center of the universe no matter what Twitter said.

“It started about half an hour ago, and the hashtag’s really long already. You’ll be pleased to know that your fans think you’re smart.”

“They think I’m smart?”

“Sure, several of them seem to believe you’re some kind of literature scholar and that’s why your lyrics are so complex.” Her voice had been drifting a little so he assumed she was reading and not focused on him. There was a chance of getting out of this conversation without too much humiliation. His hopes were dashed when Suzi spoke again, clearly paying him full attention. “So why are you really there? Is it the girl?”

“Why can’t it be because I’m a literature scholar?” He turned away from the path and leaned his hip on the railing. From this vantage point, he could watch bees going from one bright pink flower to the next.

“Because I know you. You don’t have the patience to sit through the classes. You didn’t have the patience to read
The Wasteland
when I gave it to you. You said it didn’t make any damn sense.”

“It doesn’t make any damn sense.”

“It does, but you have to spend a little time with it. So this is the girl from WVA? The deer?”

“Yes.”

“Scared her off into the forest of academia, did you? What did you do, mention marriage?”

How did they all guess that right off? It wasn’t like he proposed to every woman he dated. “You know, I hate it when you get all flowery.”

Suzi gasped. “You did! You mentioned marriage! Do you like her that much? Scratch that, you’re hunting her on her home turf, and Helen said you went to the office to talk about it. Marc, I’m so happy for you.”

“Be happy all you want. I’m wandering around a college campus searching for her and failing. The kid at the store told me to try the library, her advisor’s office, or her advisor’s house.”

“Why not her room?”

“I can’t get her room number, just the building and a PO box number.”

“Marc, there’s not going to be a lot of people in that building this time of year. If you plant yourself at the door, she’s going to have to walk past.”

“And the entire world is going to see me sitting there like an abandoned pet.”

“Aww, and you hate it when I get flowery. What building does she live in?”

“Montague.”

Computer keys clicked on the other end. “I’m sending you the phone number of the resident director in that building.”

“Alex is the resident director.”

“Doubtful. A resident director job requires a master’s degree in education. You said she’s working on a master’s in literature. The RD will be able to let you in the building. Turn on the charm. She’s not supposed to let you in at all because you aren’t a resident or maintenance person. You might have to tell her the truth.”

“And what would that be?”

“Marc, don’t be thick. You love her. Be honest. As long as the RD doesn’t think you’re stalking her, she’ll give in to true love.” Suzi took a drink of something. “Unless she’s a nut.”

“Thank you.” Marc had meant to say it sarcastically, but it came out sincere. That sincerity traveled down his spine and the backs of his legs to the soles of his feet. “You’re a good friend, you know that? Why didn’t we ever hook up?”

“I have a boyfriend, remember?”

“Well, should this not work out and your thing comes unglued, I want you to keep me at the top of the list.”

“Do you know something I don’t know? Did I ask you about Gillian?”

“Gillian who?” She’d asked about this chick last time he talked to her. Damn it, whoever was road managing Savitar this tour had dropped the ball. Marc needed to remember to call the office and get this parasite kicked off the tour before she did damage.

“She’s a groupie who’s been riding with the band. And riding the band. You don’t think Logan would…”

“Suzi, lay off the crazy juice. Logan knows there’s a line of guys waiting to get their hands on you the second he screws up. He won’t. Not if he knows what’s good for him.”

“Is that all that matters? That I’m the bone all the other dogs want?”

Was it? Marc surveyed the area in front of the library. Sunny, academic, bright flowers growing along the brick paths, students walking back and forth chatting. Suzi had been going to college when Logan met her, and now she was on the phone with him frightened and worried about Logan cheating on her, which he probably was. If he took Alex away from this, would she resent him? “Do you miss being in college?”

“Yes, but I wouldn’t trade my life for anything.” Something clattered on her end. Probably one of her endless cups of tea. “Marc, don’t chicken out now.”

“I’m not chickening out.”

“Right now you are fishing for a reason to give up on this thing with the deer. You are standing in the middle of her university campus thinking you’re going to ruin her life by being in love with her because you’re listening to me be a basket case.”

Whatever made him think he was attracted to smart women? “Suzi, you are not a basket case.”

“Go get her. Even if this isn’t forever, you can both be happy together for a little while.”

She was right, but that didn’t mean she had to have the last word. He could be a clever mind reader, too. “Go out to L.A. and hang out with your number one fan.”

“My number one fan?”

“Brian.”

“I don’t think Logan would like that.”

“Fuck Logan.”

“He’s not home. That’s the problem, remember? Maybe I should go join him for a little while. That would keep Gillian away from him.”

Marc took another look around. Suzi was far, far too smart to be saddled with that dip wad. “If that makes you happy.”

“You going to find the deer makes me happy. Go.”

“Fine. I hate you.”

“Aww, I hate you too.
Buh
-bye.”

Marc closed his phone. Go get her. Suzi made it sound so easy. Oh, yeah, the resident director. He opened his phone again to locate the number. Call her now or walk over to the building and call her from the door? She might not be in the building. This indecisiveness sucked. His feet didn’t seem to want to commit to motion. Alex could have had a very good reason for leaving the way she did. The discussion about marriage could have sent her running. What girl that age wanted to be married to an old man like him? Unless she was a gold digger out for his money, which she did need but had never asked for. It would make her life better not to have college debt hanging over her head. The guy in the store said she was too careful with her money to shop there much and she’d been waiting tables in Potterville. She could probably use a cash infusion. Money wasn’t a problem for him.