Page 8 of Collision
“Sorry.” He chuckles. “I couldn’t resist. You’re so photogenic,” he says, looking proudly at the image on his ultra expensive camera.
I have no makeup on, my hair is frizzy from the damp, and I have a pair of eye bags that rival Uncle Fester’s. I don’t know exactly what he means by “photogenic,” but I think we have very different parameters.
“Wanna see it?” he asks with a grin, his eyes glued to the screen.
“I’d really rather not, thank you.” We sip our coffees and make our way down the hall to class. “So, how are things with Stella?”
Alex met Stella this summer in Santa Barbara and has been talking about her nonstop ever since. I met her on a few FaceTime calls, and she was really sweet, with soft and kind features. She seemed perfect for him. Unfortunately, she lives in Vancouver and now they have to deal with all the difficulties of a long-distance relationship.
“It’s a new situation for both of us, we still have to figure out how to make it work, but she’s planning on coming down here for the weekend.”
I nod at his words distractedly, because my attention is drawn to a couple huddled together at the end of the hall. Immediately I recognize the bulging muscle of that idiot Thomas leaning over Shana Kennest: slender form, stunning figure, fiery red hair, and turquoise eyes. Compared to her, every girl ends up feeling like the ugly duckling, and she does everything she can to make sure they do. She’s close with the basketball team—very close—and she seems to be proud of that. But it’s clear to everyone that her interest in Thomas overshadows everyone else. Rumor has it that Thomas, though not granting her an exclusive relationship, prefers her over any other girl. In fact, he usually gets rid of the others without a thought once he’s had his fun with them.
Thomas pins her against the wall, and my eyes run over his tattooed hands. Although Shana is tall, Thomas towers over her so much that shehas to tilt her head to look him in the eye. He leans forward, and their lips almost touch as they talk as if they were alone in the hall. When I think of how rude he was to me in philosophy class, I’m surprised to see him being so friendly. Shana slips a hand in the pocket of his jeans to reach for his pack of cigarettes. She plants one between her teeth, but he takes it out and brings it to his lips. He wraps an arm around her shoulders, and before heading for the stairs down to the quad, our gazes meet for a split second. I wince in embarrassment at being caught looking at them. He, however, grins confidently and gives me a wink.
“Hey, are you listening? Who are you looking at?” Alex asks.
I immediately shift my gaze from that arrogant he-man and the redhead hanging on him and direct it back at my best friend before he notices.
“Nobody, sorry. You were saying?” I bite the edge of the paper coffee cup.
Alex looks around, but luckily the happy couple has already vanished.
“Stella is coming here this weekend. I was thinking that we could do dinner together, what do you think?” he resumes.
“Sure.” I smile at him. “I’ve been waiting all summer to meet her in person.”
“Perfect. She’ll be excited.”
We walk off toward the auditorium for our cinema studies class as I try to banish my feeling of annoyance at Thomas’s self-satisfied smirk.
Four
The hours spent with Alex put me in a good mood; I’ve always thought he was serotonin in human form. I’m walking through hallways packed with students toward my next class when I hear my best friend’s voice chirping behind me: “Carol’s throwing a mega first semester kick-off party at her house, Friday after the game. We have to be there!”
“We have to?” I challenge, trying to remember who Carol is.
“Of course.” Tiff moves her hand between me and herself. “We’re mandatory.” The sullen look I give her should be enough to indicate my lack of interest, but she runs around to block me anyway. “Nessy, you need to have some fun.”
I snort a laugh. “You and I have very different understandings of the word ‘fun.’ Besides, I don’t even know this Carol person.”
Tiffany furrows her brow and crosses her arms over her chest. “You don’t remember her? She’s in Criminology with me, and she was a regular at all of Matthew’s frat parties last year. Tall, blond, dresses kinda weird.”
Carol. Tall, blond, weird. Not ringing any bells. Must be because I went to maybe three of those frat parties last year and never stayed very long. “I really don’t know her, Tiff.”
By now, we’ve almost made it to our sociology class, one of the few that Tiff and I have in common, and we climb the steps, dodging the other students coming up and down.
“So then it’s time to get to know her!” Tiff enthuses.
I roll my eyes. “I can’t just invite myself to a stranger’s house.”
We spot two empty seats in the third row and grab them. Once seated, Tiffany moves her hair behind her shoulders with a graceful gesture. “First of all, you’re not inviting yourself anywhere, you’re my plus-one. Secondly, who cares? Do you think I know all the people who are going?”
I consider her words, tracing small circles on the counter with my fingertip, lost in thought. “I don’t know, Tiff, the semester just started. I don’t want to fall behind.”
“The semester just started today, Vanessa. We literally haven’t covered enough material for you to fall behind.”
“But by Friday we will have! And then Saturday morning I have the first meeting with my reading group. I don’t want to miss that,” I counter.
