Seeing Red (14 page)

“Sorry.”

“Sorry for what?” he asked.

She wasn’t really sure what she was sorry about. For
the one word answers? For looking like something the cat dragged
in? For my brain turning into mush when he was around? She couldn’t
even form a coherent thought at the moment, so she just ignored the
question.

“So are you from around here?” He asked, looking at
her intensely. She shifted a little, suddenly feeling a little
uncomfortable. He was crowding her personal space.

“Um, no, not really.”

“I’ve noticed that when you are around other people,
you are a pretty talkative little thing. I haven’t noticed any
stuttering problems. Even in class, you’ve stopped stuttering when
I ask you a question. So, Ms. Stone, what’s with all the stuttering
and the ums now?”

She just shrugged. He noticed? Did he notice how
other students spoke or just her?

“Ms. Stone, I asked you a question,” he said, more
tersely this time.

“You are an intimidating man, Professor Black,” was
all she could manage to say, and she was surprised she had said it.
He threw his head back and barked out a laugh. She noticed how
wonderful he smelled and looked in khaki slacks and a white linen
shirt with his sleeves scrunched back to his elbows. Those sexy
aviator sunglasses made her even more nervous since she couldn’t
see his eyes but instead could see her own stupid reflection. His
onyx hair was not slicked back as he always had it in class; it was
disheveled from the wind, making him look younger, but not less
ominous.

“So I scare you?”

“I didn’t say scare. I said intimidate.”

“Oh, we have some talking now. That’s good.” He
smiled. “So, Ms. Stone, where are you from?”

Yikes, this was not an easy question to answer. “We
traveled a lot when I was young. I was in boarding school in New
Hampshire for most of my life and the last few years in D.C. for
undergrad. Are you from around here?”

“No, I’m from New York, but my sister and her family
live here. That’s where I’m headed for dinner. Any siblings? How
about your parents?” He seemed genuinely intrigued and looked at
her as if the answer were actually important to him.

But those were the kinds of questions she hated
answering.
Why was he prying?
“Nope.”

“Nope to what?”

“Nope to all of the above. No siblings, no parents.
Anyway, thanks for the ride, professor.” They had arrived at the
library.

“You sure you have a place to go for dinner?”

She smiled “Why? You need a Home Ec student to cook
you dinner?” She winked, feeling very cheeky; she waved goodbye,
wondering where she’d gotten that flirtatious courage from.

“Ms. Stone,” he yelled and she turned around. He was
getting out of his car. Oh my God, was he coming over to sweep her
off her feet and kiss her and cancel his evening with his family to
ravage her all night?
A girl could dream.

Instead of walking towards her, he went around to
the trunk, “You forgot your whisk and blender,” he laughed,
grabbing her bag and purse. She smiled, and he got back into his
car and drove off after handing them to her.

***

Alexander

Alexander was ready to knock the teeth out of
Professor Inappropriate. What the hell was Jillian doing in the car
with that man? There had to be some sort of rule against dating
your teacher. He was going to look into that immediately. Jillian
knew better than to sleep with her professor, didn’t she? And why
wasn’t he taking her home for dinner if they were dating? Was she
just a screw for him? He was fuming mad and couldn’t understand
why. Obviously, it was because it wouldn’t be fair that she got a
better grade than he did, because she was sleeping with the
professor. That’s why he was so upset at seeing them together: no
other reason at all.

He decided to go back inside the library before she
saw him. He opened the door of the library so forcefully that it
almost came off its hinges. He went back to his corner and flipped
through pages so furiously that he accidentally ripped a page out
of the textbook. He closed his eyes, put his elbows on the desk and
his palms over his eyes, and counted to ten. He saw Jill walk in
with a deliriously dopey grin on her face. She grabbed a table on
the opposite corner of the library and sat down. She hadn’t seen
him.

A few minutes later, after he had caught his breath
and the fury subsided, he decided to see why she was here in the
library instead of having a Thanksgiving feast like everyone else.
He messaged her as soon as he noticed she was online.

Alexander:
Hi

Jill:
Hey

Alexander:
Happy TG

Jill: Happy TG to you too, Xander.

Everyone, except Jill and his brother called him
Alex. He loved when she called him Xander because it meant she was
in a good mood. But knowing that she was just with Professor
Scumbag and that was the cause of her good mood made him
irritatingly angry all over again. He was seeing red, and the fact
that he was feeling this way made him even angrier.

Jill: What are you doing online? I would have
expected you to be on your second helping of turkey and stuffing by
now.

Alexander: I could ask you the same thing. Where are
you?

Jill: Heading out to dinner.

Alexander: With whom?

Jill: Heather, my roommate. Actually I gotta run or
I’ll be late.

Alexander: Sounds great. Enjoy your dinner.

Jill: Thanks, Xander. You too.

He looked at his screen for a few minutes, wondering
why she was lying then glanced up to the corner of the library to
see if perhaps she was getting up and running out to dinner, but
she wasn’t. Actually she was spreading out all her books, and it
looked as if she were getting ready for a major study session. Was
she expecting someone? Was Professor Asshole going to join her? He
was seeing red again.

Jill:
X, I really miss Helen
today.

The
message caught him off
guard.

Alexander:
I know, Jill, me
too.

Jill:
Where are you? Please tell
me you are walking out the door to dinner with a beautiful
girl.

She waited and waited but no response. She jumped so
high when he came from behind and whispered, “Yep, definitely
beautiful,” that she actually fell off her seat and onto the floor.
He laughed so hard that he couldn’t help her up.

“Motherf . . . Jesus Christ! What the hell! You
scared me to death.” Her hand was on her heart.

“Sorry, Red, I didn’t mean to scare you. I thought
you weren’t cursing anymore.” He continued laughing.

“Jerk!” He reached for her hand to help her up, but
she shooed it away and got up on her own. “I didn’t curse. I almost
did, but I caught myself.” She straightened the chair and sat down.
“What are you doing here?” She seemed annoyed.

“Studying, and you?”

“Studying.”

“What about Heather? Why’d you lie to me?”

“She invited me, but I didn’t want to deal with
explaining, you know?” He knew exactly what she was saying.

“Red, what do you say we ditch the library and get
completely hammered tonight?”

“Let’s go!” She replied without hesitation.

They packed up their laptops and books. “Here, put
them in here,” she said, pointing at her locker.

“You have a locker? I didn’t know these
existed.”

“Yeah, Professor Black told me about it on the first
day of school. Isn’t it great?”

Was she referring to the locker or the professor? He
opted not to respond and, instead, he shrugged.

“Woman, my shit and your shit aren’t all going to
fit in there.”

“Of course, they are.”

“You wanna bet.”

“Give me that!” She yanked his bag from his arm and
forced it into her locker.

“Hey watch it! My laptop doesn’t bend that way.
Plus, your laptop isn’t going to fit in there with all our books.
Let’s just drop it off at my place.

“Ugh, you’re right. It doesn’t fit.”

“Wow, first time you said that, but I’ve heard that
plenty from other women.” He wiggled his eyebrows up and down.

“Ugh, Xander. You are such a guy! Anyway, that’s the
first time I said what?”

“That I’m right.”

“Well, it was bound to happen. Even a broken clock
is right twice a day.” She laughed. “Come on, my apartment is
closer.” They walked out of the library, both of their moods a lot
lighter—until she saw the motorcycle. “No, thanks, I’ll walk.”

“Get on the bike, Jill.”

“No way, you’ll get us killed.”

“We’re going half a mile to your apartment. I’ll go
slowly, I promise. Don’t you trust me?”

“Completely.”

“So what’s the problem?”

“I don’t trust that machine. I’ll walk. Those things
scare me,” she said, pointing to the matte black street bike that
was clearly made for racing.

“Damn it, Jill. You are the most frustratingly
hardheaded woman I’ve ever known.” He followed her to her
apartment—on foot.

“So, where should we celebrate Thanksgiving?” Jill
was gloating over her win of walking versus riding on the death
machine he called transportation. “I’m glad I’m not alone this
year. First time in eleven years.”

“How about during your years in St. Mary’s?”

“I spent my holidays mostly with the nuns and the
few girls that didn’t go home.”

Alexander felt miserable for her. How had he been so
self-absorbed to not know this? How could Oliver not have done
something about this in all these years? He made a mental note to
ask Oliver next time they spoke.

“By the way, did you ever finish reading all those
journals Helen left you?”

“No. I actually started reading again recently, but
I have a long way to go. It’s kind of hard to read her private
thoughts, knowing she’s gone—you know?”

“I’m sure it is, but if she left them for you, she
must have wanted you to read them.”

“I know. There are so many of them though. Over
twenty of them in each box and they each have over 500 pages front
and back of tiny scribbled writing. A lot of her little sayings and
anecdotes too. She left so many journals on the island too. God,
she loved to write. I do too, but not as she did. It was her
escape. Anyway, I don’t want to talk about anything sad. I just
want to get through this miserable day.”

“Hey, it isn’t going to be miserable anymore, Red.
You could have called me, you know. We could have bought a turkey
and cooked—the whole works.”

“Well, you could have called me too,” she said,
elbowing his ribs. “I was going to sit and wallow on my own. In
fact, you’re kind of interrupting my pity party right now.”

“Me too, but that can’t be healthy, can it?” He
asked.

“You’re asking the wrong person. Well, now we can
wallow together.”

“No. No wallowing, Jill. Today we are going to have
fun. You and I have never hung out.”

“Yes, we have.”

“I mean as adults.”

“Well, I don’t know if I can keep up with you,
Xander.”

“I’ll be gentle. Let’s go to Rosita’s. It’s right
around the corner. That way we don’t have to worry about driving.
It’s a Mexican Restaurant/Bar. It’s a hole in the wall. Good food,
cheap drinks, and the bartender is smoking hot.”

“I can’t wait. I’m sure she’s just my type.” She
said, rolling her eyes. He laced his arm through her elbow, and
they walked to her apartment, laughing and talking.

“What’s wrong?” He could see she was worried about
something by the way she was twirling a wayward curl.

“I’m a little nervous about overdoing it.”

“Why? Will your boyfriend be upset?”

“Boyfriend?” she laughed questioningly.

“Never mind, let’s go,” he said, quickly changing
the subject. He’d confront her about Professor Jerk later. Now was
about having fun. “Don’t worry about overdoing it. I won’t let you
get too drunk. Just drunk enough not to be miserable. You trust me,
right?”

“Yes.”

“Well, that’s your first error, babe,” he laughed
and grabbed her keys from her hand and opened her apartment, threw
his stuff and her stuff on the couch, and locked the door.

“Wait, I gotta change. I can’t go anywhere dressed
like this. They’ll confuse me for a homeless person.”

“Come on. Let’s go. You look fine.”

“No, at least let me change to jeans and brush my
hair.”

“No. I’m in charge today, and you are going just
like that. Actually no, wait a second,” he reached up to the crazy
bun on top of her head and pulled out the rubber band holding it
together, causing her red curls to fall down her back, “Okay, now
you look perfect. Come on.” He put her keys in his pocket and
dragged her out of the apartment complex and onto the sidewalk.

***

Jillian

Walking next to Alexander wearing flat boots made
Jillian notice how tall he was. When he spoke to her, he looked as
if he were hunching over. His dark blond hair was a mess—as
always—but it looked as if it were purposely messy. He had tied it
back, and some of it was coming out of the ponytail. He was
gorgeous. His blue eyes looked sapphire under the Texas sun.

“How tall are you?” She looked up at him.

“What?”

“How tall are you?”

“The same height as your boyfriend.”

“Why do you keep saying that? I don’t have a
boyfriend. Who do you keep talking about?”

“Well, this time, I’m talking about my twin
brother.”

“Oh, well, obviously you’re the same height as he
is, but he is not my boyfriend, and it’s creepy that you even say
that. And why did you say ‘this time.’ Do I have more than one
boyfriend?”

“It seems as if you have the whole school, including
the faculty, wrapped around your pretty little finger.” He pulled
her arm up and kissed one of her fingers. The sensation of his lips
on her finger made her entire body tingle.