Seeing Red (11 page)

“Okay,” she said with a smile and a whimper covering
up her last sob.

“Come on, you little cry baby.” He held her hand all
the way to class. He couldn’t help noticing that she didn’t pull
away.

During class, he realized what she had said, and she
was right: she was alone. They all were alone, but at least he had
a brother, which he often took for granted. He would give her
space—at least try to give her space. By doing so, maybe she would
be forced to make friends of her own and wouldn't feel so alone. He
wanted the best for her, and if that meant taking a step back and
allowing her to make friends, he’d do that. Hopefully, she wouldn’t
get hit on by every guy walking around campus. He had already
noticed all the guys ogling her. What was the appeal? She was a
pain in the ass, a curvy, redheaded, sexy, smart pain in the ass.
He sighed.

A lot had changed since they were kids. She was
always taller than the twins growing up, but that changed as soon
as they hit puberty. Now, she wasn’t very tall, especially in
comparison to him, but she was sexy as hell. She still had some
freckles sprinkled around her cheeks, but they weren’t as prominent
as they were when they were kids. She had milky-white skin—the tan
from being out in the sun was long gone. He could see why all the
ogling—a perfect round ass, small waist and large breasts. Not huge
breasts, but not flat-chested like he remembered. She had
beautifully defined legs, perhaps her best feature. She looked
good. Boy, did she look good. Alexander knew he wouldn’t be able to
stand it if she started dating some random guy at school and he’d
have to run into them in the halls. He should have thought his plan
out better before enrolling.

Love at first
sight is possible, but it pays to take a second look.

-Helen

Jillian

That evening, Jillian was getting ready for bed and
wondered why her roommate had not shown up. She was curious to meet
her. They had chatted briefly via email, but she didn’t know much
about Heather other than she was a Texan down to the core. Jillian
could practically hear her southern twang from Heather’s
emails.

She also thought about Oliver and knew he was owed a
phone call. He had sent texts and called her at least six times,
and she had yet to call him back. Alexander was on her mind too. It
was sweet that he had let her get her emotions privately under
control. He’d pulled her into a secluded area so no one would see
her. But mostly, she thought about sexy Professor Paul Black. He
was not as tall as Alexander or Oliver, but he had sex appeal that
stretched miles above the twins. His inky black hair was a little
longer than what one would expect from a law school professor and
consequently made him seem younger. He slicked it back, and it went
to the nape of his neck. He oozed danger. She fell asleep, thinking
of him.

Okay, so the first day of school definitely needed a
do-over. Day two would be perfect.
It had to be.

Her alarm clock flashed 3:23 a.m. That’s all she saw
when she was scared half to death by a loud bang from her living
room.

“What the fu . . .?” She jumped out of bed,
stumbling to open her bedroom door.

“Sorry, hon’. I dropped my luggage. I woke you,
didn’t I? I’m so sorry. It’s been a helluva day: my plane was
delayed, I missed my first day of school, I am soakin’ wet because
it’s rainin’ cats and dogs, and now I have effectively made an
enemy of my roommate by waking her up.” Jill just stared at her. “I
know I talk a lot. Sorry. Please feel free to shut me up when I
ramble on and on. I tend to do that.” Jillian flagged her arms in
the air to show that she was rambling.

“Don’t worry about it. I know all about bad days.
I’m Jillian Stone. It’s nice to finally meet you. I assume you’re
Heather?” She held out her hand while yawning.

“Nice to meet ya, Jillian. I’m Heather
Robertson.”

“Can I help you settle in?”

“Nah, I think I’m okay. How was your first day of
school? It’s law school, right?”

“Yeah, law school. It was fine.” She lied. “And you?
You missed your first day of school. You’re getting your MBA,
right?”

“Yep, I missed it. If you don’t mind, I am just
gonna leave all this here for tonight, and I’ll unpack tomorrow.
I’m beat and I can’t miss class tomorrow. Point me to my room.”

“Both rooms are identical. I took this one and left
that one for you.” Jill pointed to the rooms. “I hope that’s okay.
You may want to unpack your sheets. I wouldn’t sleep on that old
tattered mattress if I were you. Or better yet, wait a minute . .
.” She walked over to her room and reached in her closet and
grabbed extra sheets and a blanket. “Here, these are mine. They’re
clean.”

“Bless your heart. A clean freak. A lady after my
own heart. I think we’re goin’ to get along just fine. Thanks so
much. G’night, Jillian. I’m sorry that I woke you.”

“It’s okay. It was nice meeting you. I’ll help you
unpack tomorrow. Good night.”

As soon as Jillian’s head hit the pillow, she was
out like a light.

The smell of coffee woke Jillian. Oh, she was going
to love Heather.

“Mornin’, roomie. Coffee?”

Jillian nodded and sat on the stool by the kitchen
counter, watching Heather make an egg white omelet with tomatoes
and turkey bacon. She cooked and hummed. Heather was definitely a
morning person. Jill was definitely not.

“Not a morning person?” Heather asked as if she were
reading Jillian’s mind.

“How’d you know?”

“Just a hunch. You want some?” She said, gesturing
at the eggs.

“No, thank you.” Jill reached into the pantry and
took out a Pop Tart and stuck it into the toaster, causing Heather
to cringe.

“What time is your first class?” asked Jillian.

“10 a.m. on Tuesdays and Thursdays and 9 a.m. on
Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. And you?”

“9 a.m. every day, but I’m finished by 3 p.m. every
day.” Jill replied.

“Oh, that’s good. My days vary. Today, I’m not done
until 5.”

“Thanks for the coffee. I can help you unpack when I
get back this afternoon.”

“Thank you, Jillian.”

“Please, call me Jill.”

“Jill it is.” She went back to humming and cooking.
Jill hoped some of Heather’s sunny disposition would rub off on
her.

The second day of school went better than the first.
Alexander was friendly but gave her some space. She made an effort
to make some friends from her group and was even invited to lunch
with some of the girls who spent the first hour filling her in on
some of the ins and outs of the professors and of some of the
students. She learned that Professor Black was dreaded among the
students. He was known as one of the toughest, albeit drop-dead
sexy, professors on campus. He was thirty-three years old, and this
was his second year as a professor. She wondered how they knew so
much in the span of twenty-four hours. From her years at St.
Mary’s, she knew that women thrived on gossip, and even though it
didn’t interest her, she tried to play along as much as possible in
order to fit in. Yes, she was now a cliché: peer pressure and all
that went with it. The only things missing were drugs and sex. She
was an after-school special at twenty-two years old. Regardless, it
felt nice to fit in and have friends—well maybe not
friends—acquaintances.

When she finally returned to her apartment, she
decided to sit and call Oliver. It was overdue. She grabbed a soda
and a muffin, sat on the couch in her apartment, and dialed.

“Finally,” he said.

“Hello to you too.”

“I was worried. I called Alexander to make sure you
were okay. Why did you hang up on me?”

“I had class?”

“Okay, so you’re lying to me now? You didn’t have
class all night. Jillian, what’s going on in that brain of
yours?”

“I’m sorry, Oly. It was a rough day. I hadn’t
expected to see your brother, and I certainly hadn’t expected to
hear you were leaving and would be incommunicado. I’m going to miss
you—that’s all.”

“I’ll miss you too, baby. I’ll write and call you
when I can. I wish I had time to fly down and see you guys before I
leave, but I just can’t. I hope you understand.”

“Of course, I do. I was just being a stupid girl
yesterday.” That
baby
he stuck into conversations every now
and again made her knees weak and her head fuzzy.

“I know. That’s not like you. You normally act more
like a stupid boy than a stupid girl.” She laughed for the first
time in two days.

“You see. You always make me laugh. Tell me about
your trip. I’m worried. Please tell me you’re going to be safe. Did
you get all your vaccines? I was reading about all the strange
diseases in the Amazon—and the animals. Oh my God, the animals!
Don’t get too close. In fact, take a gun and a—”

“Whoa! Stop Jillian. You sound like a crazy person.
Yes, I got all the vaccines. I’m going with an experienced group of
photographers. It’s only a few months. I’ll be fine. Don’t worry
about me.”

“Easier said than done.”

“You’ll be too busy worrying about passing your
first semester of law school. I want to hear all about your
successes and how you kicked my brother’s ass in school, so please
don’t worry about me.”

They talked for the next half hour about her new
roommate, about Brazil, and about Alexander.

“Watch him for me, Jillian. He listens to you.”

“Yeah, right, he doesn’t listen to anyone.” She
snorted. “I love you, Oly. Please keep safe, okay?”

“Love you too, baby. Good luck with school. I’ll
call you or write you when I can.”

Ugh! That “baby” was going to be the death of
her.

It was finally Friday evening. Jillian had survived
the first week of law school—
barely.
She came home to the
smell of food being cooked.

“Mmmm, smells delicious, Heather.”

“I thought I would make you dinner—a
got-through-our-first-week-as-roommates dinner.”

“That’s sweet, Heather. What can I do to help?”

“Not much. Why don’t you grab us a couple of
beers.”

“Sure.” Jill walked over to the refrigerator,
noticing it was fully stocked—mostly healthy foods: lots of
veggies, tofu, and fruits—but fully stocked nonetheless.

“Whatcha making?” Jill handed Heather a beer.

“My world-famous tofu stir-fry.” Jill cringed.
Tofu? Gross
. She was not going to be ungracious to her
roommate, but she hated tofu.

“Sugar, I’m sure you’re thinking I’m a tree-hugging
vegetarian nut. I am a nut, but not a crazy tree-hugging hippie as
I’m sure you’re thinking. I don’t own one single pair of
Birkenstock sandals, I promise. I used to be overweight and
recently lost a ton of weight. I’m really into eating healthy. If
you don’t like it, I’ll make you something else.” Jill laughed
because that was exactly what she was thinking.

Heather was a tall and slender brunette. It was hard
to believe she had been overweight. She was thinner than Jill,
actually. She wore tight jeans and a white tank top and flip-flops,
but not in a frumpy sort of way—probably because Heather’s parents
were loaded, which made expensive, frumpy clothes look not frumpy.
Her clothes tended to be on the fitted side, and she always had
substantial cleavage on display. She didn’t wear a lot of makeup,
but she certainly didn’t look pale or plain. She was naturally
pretty. All that was missing were pigtails, and she would have
looked like the stereotypical southern farmer’s daughter. Heather
had a heavy southern drawl and southern belle etiquette which made
insults seem—well, not like insults.

“No, I’m sure it’s delicious. I love tofu.” Jill
lied, apparently unconvincingly.

“Bless your heart. You’re totally lying. Bet you’ve
never even tried it.

“Okay, Heather. You’re not a hippie, but you do cook
a lot of grass-type stuff. I’m more of a pizza and Twinkie kinda
girl.”

“Twinkies! Oh my, bless your heart.”

Jill snorted. “Okay, so this ‘bless your heart’
business, is that another way of saying that I’m full of shit?”

“Sugar, bless your heart means so many things, but a
southern lady like myself would never say that you’re full of
shit.” She laughed, confirming what Jill had just said. “Anyway, do
you work out?” Heather asked.

“I like jogging and I used to swim a lot. I went
swimming in the lap pool at the main campus this morning, and I
want to try to do that a few times a week. Why?”

“Because with that diet of yours, well, you’re lucky
you can eat that much and only exercise occasionally and not blow
up like a balloon.”

“Well, I grew up on an island, and we didn’t have
much to eat, and I guess after all these years I am still catching
up on all the junk food I didn’t get to eat.”

“You grew up on an island? Like what, Hawaii?”
Heather laughed. “I think there are Twinkies in Hawaii, Jill,” she
said with amusement.

“Not exactly Hawaii. It’s a long story. I’ll tell
you over dinner if you want to hear about it.”

“Absolutely, I want to hear about it. Seems
mysterious. Dinner will be ready in ten minutes.”

“I’ll set the table.”

“Go for it.”

Heather was very nice and thoughtful. Her heavy
southern twang made everything sound warm and fuzzy. Jill hated
making new friends to then lose touch with them. She kept contact
with some of her friends from boarding school, but they had gone
their separate ways eventually and drifted apart.

Heather seemed friendly enough, and she could use
all the friends she could get.

“Here goes nothing,” Jill said as she put a fork
full of tofu into her mouth. It was surprisingly good. Not
delicious, but not terrible. “Mmm. Not bad.”

“Don’t lie.”

“No, for real, it’s good. Maybe I can get some tips
from you on healthy eating. I don’t want all this junk food
catching up with me.”