Page 25 of Heart So Hollow

“Probably research,” I scrunch up my nose, “there’s a lot of contract and academic research around here, so I’ll probably end up doing something like that.”

Colson tosses his camo Mossy Oak cap onto the table and runs his fingers through his dark auburn hair, returning it to its usual chaotic mess, “Where are you from?”

“North Bay,” I prop my elbow on the table and rest my chin in my hand, “up on the lake. Where are you from?”

“I was born in Colorado, outside Gunnison. My dad still lives there, but I moved to Dire Ridge with my mom in elementary school. That’s how I ended up here.”

“OK,” I nod, “so out west is kind of home for you.”

For a moment, Colson’s eyes suddenly take on a far-off look, “Not really,” he shakes his head, “it’s beautiful out there, but this is where my home is.” He changes the subject and motions to my shirt, “You like baseball?”

“Yeah, I guess,” I glance down at my shirt with its Navy blue and white C wrapped around an anchor, “I played softball in high school, but I’ve only been to a couple games here. Now, I just bike.”

“Really?”

There’s subtle change in Colson’s tone and when I look up, he’s staring at me with his mouth slightly ajar. His eyes are laser focused on me, like I just said something surprising.

I squint back at him, “Yeah?”

His expression immediately returns to normal when he realizes he’s looking at me like a total weirdo, “What position did you play?”

“Second base.”

This time, I watch his face, and when I respond, he looks down at the floor and presses his mouth together like he’s either trying not to smile or trying not to say what he’s really thinking.

Maybe he just really likes baseball…

He changes the subject—again, “Have you been here since freshman year?”

“Yes,” I give a laugh, making it obvious that I’ve noticed his weird responses.

“I’ve never seen you around until this year.”

“It’s a big place—you probably have and didn’t notice.”

“I would’ve noticed.”

I cast him a skeptical look, “Why?”

Colson cracks a smile, “Because you always have this fuck around and find out look on your face.” To which I let out an unexpectedly loud laugh, my voice echoing through the empty room. “Fiery redhead over here,” he adds with a smirk.

“I am not!” I shoot back, “And even if I do look like that, it goes well with this unbothered vibe you have going on.”

He furrows his brow, “What’s that?”

I eye him for a moment and then sit back in my chair, cross my arms, stretch my legs out under the table, cross my ankles, relax my face into a stolid expression, and then slowly tilt my head to the side.

“Do I really look like that?”

“All the time,” I say with a nod.

Colson bites his lip, “Fine,” then he scoots his chair closer to the table and motions to my laptop, “so, what the fuck are we supposed to be writing about?”

I click on my bookmark to Carmen in my browser’s toolbar, where my classes and all their assignments are listed, “Don’t feel bad,” I click the link to the PDF of our paper guidelines, chuckling to myself as I drag the cursor back and forth, “I swear that I’ve seen you somewhere before, but I don’t know where. It’s been driving me crazy all semester.”

“Really?” Colson glances at me with intrigue.

“Yeah,” I knit my brow in frustration as I stare at him, trying for the millionth time, to place his face.

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