The last four days of break I caught a cold, giving me a good reason to stay in bed. Travis said he wanted to be friends, but he hadn’t called. It was a relief to have a few days to wallow in self-pity. I wanted to get it out of my system before returning to school.
The return trip to Eastern seemed to take years. I was eager to start the spring semester, but I was far more eager to see Travis again.
The first day of classes, a fresh energy had swept over the campus along with a blanket of snow. New courses meant new friends and a new beginning. I didn’t have a single class with Travis, Parker, Shepley or America, but Finch was in all but one of mine.
I anxiously waited for Travis at lunch, but when he came in he simply winked at me and then sat at the end of the table with the rest of his frat brothers. I tried to concentrate on America and Finch’s conversation about the last football game of the season, but Travis’s voice kept catching my attention. He was regaling tales of his adventures and brushes with the law he’d had over break, and news of Trenton’s new girlfriend they’d met one night while they were at the Red Door. I braced myself for mention of any girl he’d brought home or met, but if he had, he wasn’t sharing it with his friends.
Red and gold metallic balls still hung from the ceiling of the cafeteria, blowing with the current of the heaters. I pulled my cardigan around me, and Finch noticed, hugging me to him and rubbing my arm. I knew that I was paying far too much attention to Travis’s general direction, waiting for him to look up at me, but he seemed to have forgotten that I was sitting at the table.
He seemed impervious to the hordes of girls that approached him after news of our breakup, but he was also content with our relationship returning to its platonic state, however strained. We had spent almost a month apart, leaving me nervous and unsure about how to act around him.
Once he finished his lunch, my heart fluttered when he walked up behind me and rested his hands on my shoulders.
“How’s your classes, Shep?” he asked.
Shepley’s face pinched. “First day sucks. Hours of syllabi and class rules. I don’t even know why I show up the first week. How about you?”
“Eh … it’s all part of the game. How ’bout you, Pidge?” he asked.
“The same,” I said, trying to keep my voice casual.
“Did you have a good break?” he asked, playfully swaying me from side to side.
“Pretty good,” I said. I tried my best to sound convincing.
“Sweet. I’ve got another class. Later.”
I watched him make a beeline for the doors, shoving them both open, and then lighting a cigarette as he walked.
“Huh,” America said in a high-pitched tone. She watched Travis cut across the greens through the snow and then shook her head.
“What?” Shepley asked.
America rested her chin on the heel of her hand, seeming vexed. “That was kind of weird, wasn’t it?”
“How so?” Shepley asked, flicking America’s blond braid back to brush his lips across her neck.
America smiled and leaned into his kiss. “He’s almost normal … as normal as Trav can be. What’s up with him?”
Shepley shook his head and shrugged. “I don’t know. He’s been that way for a while.”
“How backward is that, Abby? He’s fine and you’re miserable,” America said, unconcerned with listening ears.
“You’re miserable?” Shepley asked with a surprised expression.
My mouth fell open and my face flamed with instant embarrassment. “I am not!”
She pushed her salad around in the bowl. “Well, he’s damn near ecstatic.”
“Drop it, Mare,” I warned.
She shrugged and took another bite. “I think he’s faking it.”
Shepley nudged her. “America? You goin’ to the Valentine’s Day date party with me or what?”
“Can’t you ask me like a normal boyfriend? Nicely?”
“I have asked you … repeatedly. You keep telling me to ask you later.”