But not today. I breathed in
the cold air, and let out a long, cathartic sigh. “You know what? I think I am.
I think I'm finally okay.”
“Really?”
“I mean, I don’t think I’ll
ever be able to fully recover from what happened. And having Michelle around campus
isn’t exactly helping matters. But... it's getting easier. A
lot
easier.”
“Baby steps, my friend,”
Lukas said, and he took my hand.
“What are you, my therapist?”
We both laughed, and
continued down the path toward U-Hall.
After I practically snored my
way though our Age of Reformation class and enjoyed a quick lunch with Lukas, I
headed back to the center of campus, toward the Film building. Robert was
waiting for me outside.
“Hey Sydney,” he said.
“Hey!” I hugged the cute
ginger, just as hard as I hugged Lukas at breakfast.
He embraced me right back. “I'm
assuming Lukas told you.”
“He told me everything! That
you said you love each other, that you’re back together.” I clapped, a cheesy
grin on my face. “I'm
so
fucking
happy for you guys.”
“Thanks. I'm more relieved
than anything else. For a few days I thought he wanted nothing to do with me.”
“Did you tell him you'd give
him more space if he needed it?”
“Yes, I know that's important
to him,” Robert said. “And he told me he knew how important our Monday night
dates were, and said he was going to take me somewhere
extra
special tonight.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. You wouldn't know
where, would you?”
I shrugged. “I didn't think
to ask. Knowing Lukas, I bet it's somewhere very romantic!” I hung on the last
syllable, like I was singing the final note of a Broadway show-tune.
He smiled, and said, “Me too.
I can't wait.”
A crackle of thunder erupted
overhead. Robert and I looked up, then quickly marched into the Film building,
where the rain couldn't find us.
I wanted to sit in the back,
but Robert insisted on the second row, again. We took our seats, and waited for
the class to begin.
When the teacher headed to
the front-and-center of the room, I looked at all the students behind me, at
all those eager faces. I recognized Thomas, from theology. I saw Brenna, from
my sociology class last semester. I even recognized two boys from that impossible
algebra class I dropped out of freshman year.
But the most memorable face
of all was noticeably absent.
Where was Michelle?
Chapter 32
I took out my binder and a
fine ballpoint pen. I started taking notes, and didn’t say a word to Robert. I
wasn’t going to give the teacher a single reason to chastise me in front of everyone
again; today, I was to be on my best behavior.
“Welcome everyone,” Mr.
Mahaffey said. “It appears a bit emptier in here. I’m glad to see
Citizen Kane
scared a few of you off.” The
professor guffawed, to a room of awkward silence. “As I said at our first
session, this class is not an easy A, and I’m not going to be showing you
movies just for the sake of entertainment. We’re going to be looking at films
of the thriller genre that have shaped the world of cinema as we know it. And
let me tell you, no discussion of thrillers can ever be complete without looking
at the work of Alfred Hitchcock.”
I settled into my seat, and
tried to keep up with my notes. Mr. Mahaffey talked fast, but took lots of long
pauses, thankfully. He discussed the director's early British period, then
touched on his more famous films, like
North
by Northwest
and
The Birds
.
“And so,” he said, “that
brings us to tonight’s film. Hitchcock’s 1958 masterpiece,
Vertigo
.” He started pacing the room, not reading from a sheet of
paper or some kind of hidden teleprompter. The film scholar had all his notes
in his head. “A flop upon its release,
Vertigo
is now considered one of the greatest films ever made. It’s a thriller that
deals with obsession, phobias, multiple personalities...”
“Sounds like my life,” I said
aloud, accidentally.
“What?” Robert asked.
The professor darted his eyes
at me, but I closed my mouth quickly, and he continued.
When Mr. Mahaffey finished
his lecture, the lights dimmed in the theater, and the Universal logo appeared
on the screen. I sat back in my seat, cleared my head, and tried to enjoy myself.
The opening scene on the rooftops was terrific, and the movie, despite its slow
pace, kept me engaged all the way through.
My interest in the film
peaked, however, at a crucial moment. I sat up in my seat, rested my chin
against my palm. The main character, played by James Stewart, has been mourning
the death of Madeleine, the woman he loved. But then he meets another woman,
Judy, who looks similar to Madeleine. He takes her back to his hotel room, and
gives her Madeleine's signature outfit to change into. His jaw drops, when Judy
steps out from the shadows, and appears as the spitting image of his former
love. His only choice is to walk right up to her, and kiss her, in a passionate
embrace.
“Oh my God,” I whispered.
“What?” Robert said.
I looked behind me again,
toward the left side of the theater. Where was Michelle? I had thought it
before, and I hated thinking it again, but there was no avoiding it now: Was
she becoming Evan’s Melanie?
“What’s wrong?” Robert asked.
I turned back around. Tried
to relax. “Nothing. Nothing, I'm fine.”
“Shh!” Mr. Mahaffey said,
from the end of our row. His eyes bore into mine.
I gave him a thumbs-up sign.
He shook his head, and focused back on the screen.
The film finally ended but
had run a little long, so Mr. Mahaffey asked us to hold onto our thoughts and
questions for the next session, and Robert and I headed outside. The rain was
coming down, not hard enough to drench us, but enough to make for an unpleasant
distraction.
“Great,” Robert said,
annoyed. He tugged on his sweater. “I thought it was always supposed to be
sunny in L.A.”
I pulled my hoodie over my
head. “Yeah, that's what the brochure said. False advertising, my friend.”
He grinned, and asked, “Where
are you off to now?”
“I don't know,” I said,
although I immediately looked in the direction of Michelle's dorm building. “Probably
just gonna go home, get started on homework. I have a persuasive speech outline
due tomorrow.”
“Oh really? What class is
that for?”
“Intermediate Public
Speaking. I still don't know what I’m gonna write my speech about.”
Robert leaned in closer to
me. “Maybe write it on teenagers and alcohol? Lukas told me that’s a subject
you care a lot about.”
I crossed my arms. Hadn't I
written about that subject enough? “Yeah, you could say it is—oh,
whoa
!” A lightning bolt struck in the
distance, seemingly right outside of campus. “Wow, did you see that?’
“What?” Robert turned around.
“A bolt of lightning across
the way. It was super close!”
“
Lightning
? Crap, it’s gonna start pouring, isn’t it?”
“Probably.” I stepped forward
and hugged the boy. “Nice seeing you, Robert. You meeting up with Lukas?”
He nodded. “His class has another
half hour. I’m gonna go wait for him in the library.” He slung his backpack over
his shoulders and headed in the other direction.
“Have fun tonight, okay?” I
said, with a quick wave.
“I will,” he said, and shot
me one last smile. “Later, Sydney!”
As soon as Robert disappeared
around the corner, the rain officially began pouring, hard, like lukewarm
daggers.
“
Shit
.”
I jogged past the fountain,
and past the Lair, all the way to the parking lot. I was almost to my red Kia
Sportage, when thunder erupted like a sonic boom behind me.
I spun around, and saw not a
lightning bolt, or a new black cloud ready to unleash its fury on me; instead,
I saw Evan. He was crossing the street, his black jacket pulled all the way over
his head.
“No fucking way,” I said.
I ducked in front of a car
that wasn’t mine. I stayed hidden for a few seconds, then peeked over the top. Evan
had his hands in his pockets, and his head tilted down, as he raced down the
pathway to the main door of Rosecrans Hall. He stopped, pressed his phone to
his ear.
“No,” I whispered. “Don’t.
Please.”
He didn’t have to wait for
Michelle to come down. Three girls walked out the door, and he headed inside.
I should have left. I should
have just gone home, taken a long shower, jumped on my bed, and slammed a
pillow over my face for the rest of the night. I liked the fantasy of Evan
being mine forever, not the reality that he was quickly slipping away from me.
But even though it was
pouring out, and even though I knew nothing good would come of it, Rosecrans
Hall was calling my name.
I dropped my notepad and book
in the back of my car, as well as my gigantic sweatshirt, which I noticed in the
mirror made me look like a blob of cotton candy. I walked, didn't run, toward
the dorm. I let the rain soak into my tank top, my jeans, my hair. I didn't
care. I needed to know the truth.
I stopped in front of the
building. I knew what floor she was on—the fifth—but didn’t know
the room. I took out my phone, pretended like I was texting someone. While Evan
only had to wait about ten seconds, I ended up standing outside for a good ten
minutes, if not longer. No living soul dared to walk out into the pouring rain.
Finally, after what seemed like forever, a young guy with a massive umbrella pushed
open the door, and I bolted inside.
I would have paid money for a
towel at that moment—I must have looked like I had taken a dip in the
ocean—but every door in sight was shut. I turned to the elevator, and
waited an agonizing minute for it to open.
When I stepped out onto the
fifth floor, I noticed immediately the weird silence. I glanced down the hall,
at all the closed doors.
I walked forward a few steps
and glanced inside the one open door to my right. Inside was a cute blond boy,
typing on his laptop. I knocked on the wall. “Excuse me?”
“Yeah?” He peered up at me.
His eyes were bloodshot, like he hadn’t looked away from his computer screen all
day.
“Sorry to bother you. I’m
looking for a friend of mine. Michelle Swanson. Do you know her?”
He scratched the stubble on
his chin, and leaned back in his chair. “Yeah, I know Michelle. She’s the chick
who got that awful haircut, right?”
“Yes!” I was glad someone agreed
with me. “You wouldn't happen to know what room she's in, would you?”
“Sure do! Last one on the
left, room 520. Can you let me know if Sasha's in there? She took my tequila
bottle last night and I still haven't gotten it back.”
I hesitated. “Tequila bottle?”
“Yeah. That shit's expensive,
man.” He swung his chair around and continued with his typing.
“Okay. Thanks for your help.”
I turned back to the quiet
hallway. Took a deep breath.
And started my fateful walk.
Why did I feel like I was on
death row? The hallway had a dank, musty smell to it, and the chipped walls and
fluorescent lights overhead gave the place the feel of a prison. I passed rooms
510, 515. All the doors were closed. Nobody seemed to be around.
I finally stopped at room 520.
This door was closed, too. I leaned my ear against it. Heard soft, muffled
chatter coming from inside. It was both of them. Michelle and Evan.
This was it. The beginning,
or the end.
I knocked on the door.
Chapter 33
Nobody answered.
I almost knocked a second time,
when Michelle, finally, cracked the door open.
“What the hell?” she said.
“What are
you
doing here—”
I kicked against the door, and
almost knocked her to the ground. They weren’t naked, thank God, but Evan was
inside, leaned up against a computer desk. His eyes doubled in size the second
he saw me.
“Sydney?” he asked. “What—”
“I knew it,” I said, and kept
my gaze on him, not Michelle. “You tell me you’re gonna stay away from her, and
three days later you’re alone with her in her fucking
dorm
?”
He stepped toward me slowly, and
put out his arms, like he was afraid I might stick a knife in him. “Syd, calm down.
This isn't what you think, I promise.”