Inconstant Moon - Default Font Edition (21 page)

“Maybe that's part of why nobody told you. Acquaintances aren't usually willing to go out on a limb for you. It's a big risk telling anyone they're being stepped out on. Messengers do get shot you know.”

“Yeah, I guess. And in a lot of ways I'm still hung up on her, and sometimes I think if she just looked at me the right way, well maybe I would go back to her.

“Really?”

“Well. Maybe. I can't get her out of my head.”

“Just take it easy, that's all. Try to give it time.”

“Are you attracted to me?”

“Um.” Amelia purses her lips. “Maybe I shouldn't answer.”

“Aw hell, Amelia, I'm not 'the guy' am I? I mean, I like you a lot, but I'm not remotely attracted to you.

“Oh that's a relief.” Amelia bursts out laughing.

Eric frowns. “What?”

“I was worried you were eyeing me up for a rebound. I like you as a friend, and you're not bad looking, and you are the kind of guy I ought to be attracted to. But I'm just not. Sorry.”

“So why wouldn't you just say that before?”

“Because I figured you've had your heart stomped pretty good, I didn't want to stomp it more. But I do like you and I'd be honoured to be your friend. Just not your squeeze.”

Eric snorts. “Squeeze, who says squeeze?”

“If we're gonna hang around together you better know up front that after Asimov my favourite author is Dash Hammett. I love anything noir but Dash is the man. So sometimes words like 'squeeze'and 'gunsel' just pop right out in my conversation.”

Eric looks at her and bursts out laughing.

“What's so funny about that?”

“That's great. You talk like a Bogart character and we aren't romantically attracted to each other. Great.”

“Does that mean we can be friends?”

“Sure. But only on one condition. You have to tell me who the guy is.”

Amelia glances around, making sure no one is lurking, listening. She puts in the DVD and comes back to sit beside Eric. Leaning close she whispers in his ear, “Jose.”

“Jose? You're talking about Jose? You think Jose is a hunk?”

“Shhh!”

“But he's, he's, ordinary. He doesn't even have muscles or anything. Even I probably have a better body than he does.”

“Most girls aren't into the muscle man thing. That's more a guy thing, to want to look like that, part of the whole alpha male deal. Not to say we don't want a guy to have a good body, but that's not the most important thing. But Jose's body is pretty good.”

He looks at her in surprise. “Why on earth would you like Jose? I mean he's a nice guy and all, but he's . . . you're really smart and, how do I say this . . . He doesn't have two brain cells to rub together.”

“It isn't his brains that get me hot.”

“Uh. This is a weird thing to be discussing with a girl.”

“Look, I have brothers so I doubt you could shock me.”

“Well I have a sister and you sure as shit can shock me.”

“Sorry.”

“No, don't be. This is interesting. What do you see in Jose?”

“He may not be Einstein, but he's not as dim as you think, he just keeps stuff inside.”

“You think so?” Eric asks thoughtfully.

“Yeah. There's a lot going on behind his eyes. You know, the strong silent type. He may be sacrificing more brain cells than he can afford smoking up, but he has a few. That's not the point.”

“But what is the point then? I don't get it.”

“Because you're a straight guy, Eric.” She closes her eyes a moment. “I think he exudes pheromones. And of course it doesn't hurt he's got great buns. What can I say, there's something about the guy that makes me want to rip off his clothes. Maybe it's his bedroom eyes. They are just so deep. And he's got great eyelashes too, and yummy lips, you know. Kissable.

“Stop . . . no more. This is farther than I really wanna go here, okay?  Jose is a friend, we eat lunch together and stuff. I really don't need this picture in my head.”

“The only girl he even looks at is that Barbie bimbo.”

“Well.”

“Ahhh. I get it. You think she's hot too.”

“Well, duh. I am a straight male.”

“Uh huh. One that doesn't find me at all alluring.”

“Uh . . . well Barbie's got . . .”

“Hooters. I get it Eric.”

“Not that I'd want to go there.”

“Because of Jose?”

“Yes. No. I don't know.”

“The girl is drop dead gorgeous.”

“Sure, and she'd be fine in a wet dream but I just can't see having a conversation with her.”

Amelia smiles. “I kind of feel sorry for her.”

“I thought girls were supposed to instinctively hate classic golden girls. You did call her a bimbo..”

“I admit I'd be happier if Jose wasn't hung up on her. But that's another urban myth. Beyond the odd loner like Elsie, women hang together. Sisterhood wasn't invented in the 60's. Historically women looked out for each other and built the community while the hunters wandered around hoping for something to kill.”

“So why do you feel sorry for her?”

“It's that intelligence thing. I think she was bright once but hasn't actually had to use her brain in so long she's forgotten how. It's easier to let everyone do for you than to do it yourself.”

“She seems to enjoy it.”

“I'd expect it seems fun at first, like getting something for nothing. But for me it'd get old awfully fast. There's a rush you get from doing it yourself. First time I had a poem published in the paper I was eleven. It was cool, but it wouldn't have been as good if somebody else had helped me, or heaven forbid, written it for me.”

Nick comes in and grins at the sight of the computer club members glued to the television. He can't believe it. They aren't even watching streaming video, they're watching regular cable TV.

Some computer geeks.

He crosses over to sit with Kate.

The others keep watching the program, but Nick and Kate cuddle with their heads together, talking quietly.

“How was your night class?”

“Not too bad, most of the kids are coming along nicely. Only a couple in doubt at this point. One in serious doubt.”

“Uh oh, what did she do this time?”

“They were supposed to be writing up their dissection notes because he's going to be marking them this weekend.”

“Who's going to be marking them?”

“Shhh. Yes, it will be grunt work. You know how it goes.”

“Yeah, I do. So tell me, what did she do?”

“She hadn't actually bothered to do a dissection.”

“You're kidding. Why not?”

“Tamara missed it too, but she came in and made it up.”

“After one of your famous chats?”

“Hey, I just gave her a bit of brotherly advice.”

“Tamara's shaping up so it's just Barbie in the doo doo?”

Adam hears Barbie's name, realizing with an uncomfortable shock that Nick is talking about ‘his’ Barbie.

Although he continues to face the television set, Adam's real attention focuses on the quiet discussion on the sofa.

“You know, I did offer her some re-scheduling choices but she never showed,” Nick continues. “That's it. So I didn't expect her to show up tonight. I mean, what's she going to write? She didn't do the procedure, game over. But she's making notes during the Q and A, sitting by Tamara. It's nuts to crib from Tamara because she's barely hanging on. I couldn't believe Barbie's . . . audacity.”

“Not trying at all?”

“She doesn't think rules apply to her. There always has to be a special dispensation, just for her. She was trying to catch up, not by applying herself but by slapping together info she's picked up from the others. That's what she wants to hand in.”

“That's crazy. How can she hand in notes on a procedure she hasn't done?”

“I don't know where her head is, but it's a class, so I'm not gonna talk to her until after, right? Anyway we're done the review and class breaks up so most of them are heading out. All except Barbie. Tamara looked like she was gonna wait too, but Barbie waved her out.”

“I almost feel sorry for her.”

“How can you say that?”

“It's not hard. You have to realize honey, it's because she's so pretty. People have probably been giving her things and doing for her her whole life. That's just how her world works. This is probably the first time anyone has expected her to actually do the work. I don't get why she just doesn't go to Hollywood or something.”

“Probably because the serious competition there would be on her looks. Katie, you are so forgiving. Wait til you hear the rest before giving her a free pass babe. I'm gathering up my stuff and loading everything on the cart, when all of a sudden I can just tell she's coming up behind me.”

“Like Freddie Kruger, right.”

“Shhh . . . everyone's watching
House
.”

“So what happened next?”

“You've seen her, she simpers, you know, in that gushy helpless voice that makes me want to smack her upside the head. She goes, ‘Oh, hi Nick, what a great class, I learned so much. Can we talk?’ so I told her, ‘but you know I'm only a TA.’ ”

“Oh that's great, hon. What'd she say to that?”

“She asked me to help her write up her dissection notes.”

“The girl has chutzpah.”

Nick shakes his head. “I tried to explain that you have to actually do the dissection to be able to write it up but she doesn't listen, she's telling me about the troubles she has, organizing her schedule.”

“You know she spends half her life in the woods smoking up with Jose and that crowd, right?” Kate says softly.

“Of course I know, I can smell it on her whenever I see her after she's cut class. But she can't submit dissection notes without having done the dissection. I mean what's she thinking? So I asked her if she's plans to con other doctors into doing her work for her after she gets her MD? I don't think so.”

“Oh, sweetie. She threaten to go over your head again?”

“No, this time she burst into tears and ran out.”

“Aw, poor thing. What did you do, follow and apologize?”

“Hardly. I finished packing up. It's late, I'm done, I'm wheeling the cart up the aisle and the door opens.”

“She came back after the big dramatic exit?”

“Hey, what else was she gonna do? I didn't follow her. She had to try some other kind of scam.”

“Uh oh, I'm getting the idea here. What was the scam?”

“I've shut off most of the lights, so she's back lit, in a halo of light, so it's impossible to miss the shape on the girl.”

“Oh, poor you, forced to admire perfectly formed nubile college girls.”

“She gives it the old college try, ‘Please Nick, you could help if you wanted to’. So I asked if she can't keep up now when it's beginner stuff, how she's gonna get by when things get difficult?”

“She lets the door swing closed and she comes in and I realize it isn't just fluffier hair. She's unbuttoned her blouse and it was, uh, painfully obvious that she'd taken off her bra.”

“Sounds like it got your attention.”

“Wait for it, I haven't got to the best part. She brushes up against me and tells me I look tired and we could help each other out. Only now she's talking in a breathy
Marilyn
kind of voice.”

“Not your type?”

“You know better than that, darlin'. Here's me trying to push the cart away and she's licking her lips and trying to do that slutty girl pout. It was actually kind of funny.”

“Not as slinky as
Thirteen
?”

Nick nods at the actress on screen. “Not a prayer.”

“No sale, huh?”

“You know better than that. So I tell her, ‘Look that might have worked in high school, but it will not fly here. You need to think seriously about changing majors because the only way to get an MD is to earn it and the only way to earn it is to work for it.’ Then she starts buttoning her cleavage back up and pfffft,
Marilyn
has been replaced by the
Snow Queen
.”

The end credit percussion signals the end of the House episode. Nick glances up and sees that the computer club has dropped all pretense of watching TV in favour of his story.

“That really happened?” Jake asks.

“Sadly, yes.” Holding up his hands, “Look guys, I'd appreciate it if what I've said to Kate doesn't go any further. It's privileged TA stuff. I didn't realize I was telling everyone.”

“Don't worry about it, we'll never tell,” smiles Krystal.

Oscar says, “Your soap opera was better than House.”

Adam's ordinarily well ordered mind reels chaotically. He needs to get somewhere quiet and think this through. Perhaps the pedestal he has Barbie on is not after all appropriate.

Cigarette smoke, perfume and alcohol waft off Boris as he stumbles through the common room on the way to bed but he's irritated by a nearly subliminal humming noise.

He thinks for a moment, blearily trying to recall which way he needs to go to find his bed. He shakes his head, but the annoying hum doesn't go away. Then he realizes some idiot hasn't switched the TV off.

Boris is stumbling over to the large screen TV when he bumps the corner of the blue sectional. A snore gets his attention, and he looks down to see Eric and Amelia curled up together, popcorn debris and chocolate wrappers scattered all around.

Boris is happy for Eric. About time he got over Elsie.

Grabbing the afghan from the red sofa, Boris brings it back to carefully drape over the sleepers. Then he switches the TV set off and creeps down the hall to his bedroom.

The transition to morning goes unnoticed by Val Thompson, Christie's Night Security Chief. He leans against the wall inside the waiting room doorway, radiating tension, unhappy to have a student attack on his watch.

Bad for business. Bad for the school. Having law enforcement wannabes like Connor as the rule rather than the exception doesn't help. More retired cops like Vlad would be best.

Quentin paces in the waiting room, Jake sits stiffly on one of the hard plastic chairs. Liz shelters under Ethan's arm with a kind of vacant look in her eyes.

Elsie pushes her way past Val and takes a position in the centre of the room so she can address the student contingent. “Natasha's still unconscious but all her vital signs are good. The doctor thinks she'll probably be fine. But they won't know for sure until she wakes up.”