“Cold night, huh?”
I sniffed and shot an annoyed glance to the man settling into the space next to me. I hadn’t heard him approach. He breathed on his hands, rubbed them together and then offered a reassuring grin.
“I guess,” I answered.
He looked down at his watch and sighed. “Damn it,” he muttered under his breath. “Guess we missed the last bus.”
He pul ed a cel phone from the pocket of his black motorcycle jacket and dialed. He greeted someone and then requested a taxi.
“Did you want to share a cab?” he asked.
I peered over at him, immediately suspicious. His blue-grey eyes narrowed as he raised one eyebrow at my expression. I must have looked like a maniac, and he was reconsidering his offer.
I folded my arms, suddenly feeling the discomfort of winter breaking through my coat, seeping into my skin, piercing through to my bones. I had to get back to school; I stil had a paper to write.
“Yes. Thank you,” I said with a shaky voice.
After an awkward moment of silence, the man spoke again. “You work around here?”
“No.” I hesitated to continue the conversation but found myself curious. “You?”
“Yes.”
How odd. He didn’t look like hired help. I glanced at his watch out of the corner of my eye. Definitely not help.
“What do you do?”
He didn’t answer right away. “I’m…involved in the home security sector,” he nodded, seeming to agree with himself.
“I’m a student,” I offered, trying to clear the ridiculous quivering in my voice.
He stared at me with an expression I couldn’t quite decipher, and then looked forward again. He was older than I, though not by more than five or six years. I wondered if he knew who I was. There was a glimmer of familiarity in his eyes, though I couldn’t quite place it.
His cel phone vibrated, and he opened it to read a text message. He attempted to hide an emotion and then snapped the phone closed without replying, and didn’t speak again until the cab arrived.
He opened the door for me, and I scooted over to the farthest end of the seat while he slid in behind the driver.
“Where to?” the cabbie asked in a throaty voice.
“Brown University,” I instructed. “Please.”
“Uh-Huh. One stop?”
“No,” my unanticipated companion said.
I noted that he was careful not to mention his address, and that struck me as odd. Maybe it wasn’t odd at al ; maybe I was more curious about him than I would have liked to admit. I was surprised that I had noticed anything at the moment, and found myself grateful to this stranger for the diversion he’d inadvertently created for me.
“I’m Jared by the way,” he grinned, holding his hand out to take mine.
“Nina.”
“Wow, your hands are freezing!” he said, clasping his other hand over mine.
I pul ed my hand away, noting his exceptional y warm grip. I watched him for a moment, listening to any inner voices that might have sensed danger, but the only feeling that stood out was curiosity.
After the realization of his offense, he apologized with a smal smile. I tucked my hair behind my ears and stared out the window. The wind whipped around outside, blowing the col ecting flakes across the road like white snakes slithering ahead. I shivered at the image and pul ed my coat tighter around me.
“Brown, huh?” Jared asked. His cel phone vibrated in his pocket and he flipped it open once again.
I nodded. “Brown.” He continued to look at me so I offered more, “Business major.”
The residual frustration from the unwanted cal er melted away once our eyes met. It seemed as if he’d just noticed I’d been crying.
“Are you al right?”
I looked down, picking at my nails. “We buried my father today.” It occurred to me that I had no idea why I was sharing such personal information with a stranger.
“You were close,” Jared said. It was more of a statement than a question.
I waited for the expected pity in his eyes, but there was none. My relief caused me to smile which in turn made a grin turn up one side of his mouth. I noticed then that he had a nice face. It was more than nice, now that it had come to my attention. He was quite attractive, real y….
“Where’s your place?” The cabbie squawked. I peeled my eyes from Jared and pointed in the direction of my dorm. “East Andrews Hal .”
The cab pul ed in, and Jared automatical y stepped out. As soon as his door had shut, mine opened.
“Thank you,” I said.
“It was nice to meet you, Nina.” There was an edge to his words. It went beyond politeness or even sincerity. He spoke the words with conviction.
I nodded and side-stepped toward my dorm. He paused before getting into the cab to smile at me once more, and for the first time in weeks I felt something other than hol ow. I watched the cab pul away and then turned against the wind to walk toward Andrews.
Once inside my room, I noticed my appearance in the mirror and gasped. Good God, it was no wonder that Jared felt compel ed to come to my aide! I looked like a homeless, desperate crack addict overdue for my next fix! My brush ripped through my blonde bob and I pul ed my bangs straight back, pinning them away from my face. I went to the sink and scrubbed away the smeared mascara and streaky foundation.
With a frown, I pul ed my cel phone from my pocket and pressed the speed dial to cal my mother.
“Nina?” she answered.
“Back in my room, Mom.”
She sighed. “Good. You know I don’t like for you to take the bus. Robert could have driven you. Take two of those pil s I gave you today, al right? They’l help you sleep.”
I rol ed my eyes. My mother: the frequent flier of Providence drug stores.
“I’l probably fal asleep the second my head hits the pil ow.” Not the pure truth, but it would do to keep my personal pharmacist at bay.
“Okay, Darling. Sleep wel .”
My dorm room seemed smal er. The white wal s were pitiful y empty on my side. Feeling I was being watched, I peeked across the room at my roommate. Her side of the room was covered in posters of teddy bears and team colors. My decor consisted of an ornamental frame on my night table displaying a picture of me and my parents at high school graduation just a few months before.
“How’s your mom?” Beth asked from under her baby pink comforter.
“She’s…sad.”
“How are you?”
“The same,” I sighed. My conclusive tone seemed to relax Beth, and while I changed into my pajamas I noticed her breathing even out.
I sat on my bed and pul ed myself against the pil ows. My thoughts effortlessly moved toward the last hour. Jared’s grin kept my mind occupied for awhile, but before long my thoughts brought me back to the funeral. I rol ed onto my side and curled into a bal , trying to cry quietly. Relief final y replaced the crushing grief as I slipped out of consciousness.
I turned to the side and blinked my eyes, noting the large, red numbers on the clock. Five A.M. had come quickly. My eyes felt swol en and scratchy.
It was then that I realized my dreams had been cruel. There would be no miracles, and my father was stil gone.
The finale of the worst experience of my life hadn’t ended with what was supposed to be my closure.
I clambered from my bed and opened my laptop, determined to finish my term paper by eight. The screen lit up, and I peered over at Beth, her head buried under her pil ow. My fingers tapped out the next cross-reference and soon began a muted symphony of clicking against the keyboard.