Chasing Peace (3 page)

He stepped back looking like he didn’t really know how he
came to be here. He tried to leave, turning in the wrong direction.

“That way,” Lyla pointed.

I know that feeling, like an animal running from misery,
looking to hide but becoming lost, trapped with no escape. I’d been there too.
And then he no longer stood before me, gone when I blinked.

“Are you okay baby?” Sometimes Lyla sounds just like a
mother, although I’d never accuse her of looking like one. I made eye contact
and then she touched me, a soft hand at my back, rubbing small circles, somehow
knowing that I might lash out or run and hide at any moment.

I’d forgotten how hard it is to sit in class all day. It’s
Tuesday afternoon and I’ve made it through my first day and a half. Logic is
neither a typical freshman class nor a requirement for biology majors, but it
sounded interesting and filled some liberal arts requirements. Shoving my junk
in my bag, I speculate that this class might help to keep my mind off things.
If I could go through life without remembering, I’d be fine, so logic it is.

Outside, I head to philosophy with Annie and surprisingly I
look forward to seeing her again. Philosophy is a new challenge for me too, but
as a freshman level class I’m sure it won’t be all that challenging.

“Hey, lady in red!” I hear a shout and it reminds me of the
woman in the cocktail lounge on Friday night. I smile at having evaded her
before feeling immediately guilty for pushing her toward the new piano man, poor
guy. “Hey, wait up.”

Fingers curl around my upper arm, pulling me from Friday’s
memory and flinging me headlong into another. I react in terror and
self-preservation, the restraining hand on my right arm, my bag on my left and
it’s heavy. I whirl right, my bag gaining momentum as it flies in an arc around
my body. My aim is spot on heading for his shoulder, neck and head, thanks to
self-defense classes this summer.

Around far enough to see his face, I realize my mistake. I
try to stop, really I do, but the momentum gets the best of me, my bag jerking
on my arm as I try to restrain it, pulling me off balance, mid spin.

I’m headed for an inglorious fall right at the feet of a
stranger, not the man I expected. Okay, maybe I’ll land a little to the right.
My bag has some serious momentum and is now hauling me along behind.

He reacts more quickly than I. My sideways slide is arrested
when his arm slips beneath mine, knocking my breath away as I land against his
chest and stop short. My underarm is secure in the crook of his elbow. My
cheek, nose and half my mouth are pushed into the leather of his jacket. My
hips are angled perpendicular to his. My knees buckled leaving my feet resting
sideways on the cement. It feels like forever although the logical part of my
mind tells me it’s only seconds.

“Are you okay?”

“Mmmf Hmmmf.” My voice is muffled by his jacket as I try to
get my feet under me, my shoes scrabbling on the sidewalk.

“Here. Let me help.” His free hand cups my right elbow and
he lifts until my eyes are level with his mouth and my feet are underneath me.

“I’m so sorry. I thought you were someone else,” I
apologize.

“I should hope so. I can’t imagine you meet many new people
like that.” A smile hovers around his mouth and when I finally tear my eyes
away, raising my gaze to his, I find the same smile lurking in his eyes as they
sparkle with mirth.

Something inside me jolted and then fell, much like that
falling sensation when you drop off to sleep. I feel foolish, whether in
response to my swing, the laughter in his eyes or the hands still holding me. I
look away. My cheeks are flaming hot and I can’t quite catch my breath as we
stand in the middle of the walkway, people streaming by on either side.

I step back awkwardly, dropping my bag as the fingers under
my elbow slide to my wrist before falling away while the other arm skims the
side of my breast until he pulls away too. For some reason making eye contact
with this guy is uncomfortable. My eyes skate away when he looks at me.

“Where are you headed?” He bends down, lifting my bag from
the ground. “I’ll walk you.”

“I don’t need a keeper,” I snap, irritated by his mirth and
my own discomfort. “I can walk myself.” His eyes sparkle and his lips quirk in
response, one lifted eyebrow questioning my abilities.

“Of course,” he says, shoving his fingers through hair in
need of a trim, he looks up from under his brow, chagrin marring his features,
a question in his eyes. “I’m sorry. I startled you. I saw you in logic and just
wanted to introduce myself. I’m Boston.” He held out his hand in expectation, a
challenge in his eyes that I try not to meet.

I’m suspicious but unable to determine his intent without
looking more closely than is comfortable. Instead, I’m petulant and insulting. “Strange
name.”

“You work at the lounge in The Chambers Hotel right?” he
asks dropping his hand to his side.

Curiosity gets the better of me. “I do.”

“I’m the new piano player, Boston Massey.”

Actually, his name is more intriguing than strange and
against my better judgment I ask, “Were you born there?”

“No.” That’s all he says, just a flat monosyllabic response.

“I’m sorry.” I’m contrite and resigned. “I have better manners
that that. I’m Sterling.” I finally meet his eyes and their dark gaze makes my
stomach churn and my throat tighten.

“Strange name. Are you silver?” A sweeping smile lightened
his eyes to the golden colors of autumn as a shout of laughter popped out of my
mouth. “Let’s go,” he says, catching my hand and pulling me along. “Where to?”

“Sandborne hall, Philosophy.” After a few steps, he drops my
hand, prowling beside me with what feels like heat radiating from him, unless
that’s me.

Now that I’ve met him, I feel bad about sticking him with
the lady in red. “I’m sorry I sicced the dragon lady on you,” I apologize.

“What?”

My steps slow as I try to find the right words. “Remember
the lady in red from work on Friday?”

He stopped walking and turned toward me. “Wait you mean the
older lady who hung out at the piano all night?”

“I did it on purpose,” I hedge, looking away from his eyes
again, watching my fingers massage the back of my wrist. “She gave me a hard
time so I sent her your way.”

“Yeah, I remember her. I had to fend her off all night.” He’s
smiling again. I can hear it in his voice prompting me to look. The corners of
his eyes crinkle, his lips curl, and a small dimple appears just below the spot
where the top and bottom lip come together.

“Sorry bout that. Although in my defense, your timing couldn’t
have been worse. I had no trouble convincing her you were singing for her.”

“She may have been wearing red, but I didn’t notice.” He
grins as I look away, my eyes sliding sideways again. Grabbing my arm and
encouraging me to turn back in his direction he asks, “What did she do?”

I resume walking as I tell him about her demand for a drink
and threat to my job if I didn’t deliver.

“You did the right thing. Besides, I’m there for the ladies.”
He swaggered a bit as he said it, “that’s my job.”

“I thought you played piano.”

“That too. I’m just a renaissance man.”

I laugh at his lack of modesty. “That’s good to know. I’ll
send all the bitches your way.” I smirk with mock evil intent, taking the edge
off my threat.

“So you’re old enough to tend bar. Twenty-one?” he asked,
raising his eyebrows.

“Good guess. You’re old enough to work in the lounge too,
but you’re not twenty-one.”

“No, twenty-five and a junior. I’m a late bloomer.”

I chuckle at that and agree. “I got started late too. I’m a
freshman.”

Boston lets out a low whistle between his teeth. “Damn. I’ve
got this rule against dating freshmen.”

“That’s good because I’ve got this rule against dating guys.”

“You’re gay?” he says with a frown, his brows drawn together
in confusion. “I totally misread that one.”

“No. I’m not gay. I just don’t know you and I’m not looking
for a relationship.”

“Who said anything about a relationship Sterling? We’ve
already met. We work together and have a class together. If we’re going to
spend time together, we may as well be friends.”

We’re at Sandborne now and I don’t agree, but I don’t
disagree either.

“Walk together again on Thursday?” he asks.

I want to say no, but I give in. This guy challenges me as
if he knows I’m trying to avoid him.

“Okay. I promise I won’t try to whack you with my bag next
time.” I feel a flirtatious smile tug at my lips as I turn toward the door. My
hand on the handle, I’d almost escaped when I heard it.

“Your jacket is red.” He backed away, with hands shoved in
his jacket pockets.

“What?” I look down at my white tee and plaid shirt, no
jacket in sight.

“Your jacket at work … it’s red.” He shrugs with hands still
in his pockets and an “aw shucks” expression, like he couldn’t help himself.
Then he turned and jogged off.

I’d never even thought about the dark red, almost burgundy
uniform jacket I wore. Everyone at the hotel wore that color, except Lyla and
now Boston. He wears a dark suit.

* * *

I hustle into Sandborne only to find Annie waiting by the
door.

“Who’s that?”

“A guy from my logic class.”

“Ooh. Do tell.”

“Nothing to tell. Turns out he recognized me from work so we
walked over together.” Breathless and taut, I walk beside Annie, not yet ready
to tell her any more.

“Mmm Hmm.” She nods her head, speculation in her tone.

“Do you know where we’re going?” I ask, desperate to change
the subject. The encounter with Boston has left me jittery when I want nothing
more than to focus on school.

“Yes. Do you realize we didn’t exchange numbers and I couldn’t
find you anywhere?” Annie sounded almost panicked.

“Didn’t think about it,” I say, handing over my phone. “Besides,
we have this class together.”

We wander into the room as Annie calls herself, handing back
my phone when hers starts to ring. I head toward the front, not really paying
attention while saving her contact.

Annie grabs my arm, “Wait.... We can’t sit up there,”
hauling me over to a couple of seats near the back.

She’s right. We can’t sit up front. Staking out seats near
the back is a much better idea. I pull off my worn plaid, revealing a plain
white tee and jeans. It’s unusually cool outside for September, but it’s warm
in here. I half listened as Annie chattered on about her classes.

“I just came from Intro to Shakespeare and let me tell you, it’s
going to be the most horrid experience I’ve ever had with Shakespeare.”

“Aren’t they all?” I drawl.

She continued, completely missing my sarcasm. “Of course I
know my Shakespeare and thought it’d be easy, but the instructor is unreasonable.
Would you believe...”

I watch Annie as her voice becomes muffled by the
lightweight fleece she drags over her head before taking a seat. She’s wearing
a black baby tee with blue jeans and black cowboy boots. The jeans are designer
and the boots obviously hand made with elaborate cutouts that reveal brown
leather below. Annie continued her monologue while I moved to her jewelry. The
lush platinum bracelet and understated diamonds winking in her ears must have
cost a fortune, but she wears them well, as if they’re nothing special. She had
obviously dressed down during a week when most freshman girls would be wearing
their best, her look casual only to the casual observer.

When I Look at Annie, I see she’s wealthy but I also see
that money matters not a wit. I guess most people wear who they are or where
they come from just as obviously. My brow furrows in thought as I wonder what
Boston and Annie might be like together.

“Are you listening to me?” she demanded.

“Hmmm?”

“Did you hear me?”

“Yes,” I answer, no longer distracted. “Your Shakespeare
instructor is whacked and wants you to explain why he’s great, Shakespeare, not
the instructor. What’s wrong with that?”

“I thought this would be easy, ya know, covering everything
I’ve already learned. Now I have to work on something new, something I don’t
know.”

“It’s why we’re here.”

“Yes, yes.” Annie ignored my seriousness. “Hey, I almost
forgot, there’s a frat party Thursday night to kick-off the new term. We should
go.”

“I don’t know. I don’t want to be distracted by parties and
stuff. I really need to focus on school.”

Annie cajoled, “Oh come on. It’s just one party. You don’t
really have any homework yet anyway”

“I’ve got a ton of reading and two assignments already and
this is only my second day,” I protest even though I know the work won’t take
long.

“Come on,” she tempts with bright eyes and an eager smile. “It’ll
be fun. You can invite your guy from logic class?” Her eyebrows waggle
suggestively and I burst out laughing.

“Okay. Okay.” I concede, thinking there is no way in hell I’m
asking him.

Before we could discuss plans for Thursday, Professor
Campbell walked in. As Campbell went over the syllabus, I thought about maybe
setting up Annie with Boston. She’s sweet and I think he’s a good guy. They’d
make a great couple.

“So we’re on for Thursday night?” Annie confirmed as soon as
class let out.

“I guess so.”

“Don’t go getting all excited,” she grouched, but brightened
again almost immediately. “And don’t forget to ask your new friend.”

“Who?” I ask, knowing exactly who she means.

“That hot guy you were talking to earlier,” she teases.

“Yeah, maybe I’ll ask him.” My voice trails off as my mind
begins churning. If Annie’s interested, he’ll be off limits and I won’t have to
worry about breaking my own rules. I smile thinking this might work out after
all.

“Woo Hoo! We’re going to our first party.” She dances in a
circle wiggling her shoulders and butt, embarrassing the hell out of me.

“If you keep that up, I can’t be seen in public with you.”
She stopped as I zipped my bag shut. “So where is it?” I ask, slinging my bag
over my shoulder and following her to the door.

“No worries. I’ll drive,” she offers. “Meet me at the south
campus sandwich shop at ten.”

“Isn’t that kind of late?”

“It’s the perfect time to arrive. We don’t want to be too
eager.”

* * *

I try to work up the courage to ask Boston to the party as
we walk from logic to philosophy, but I wimp out. We talked about the first
week of classes, a logic assignment, and Lyla, but I couldn’t work up the nerve
to ask him to the party. I’d considered using Annie as bait, but with my luck,
she’d show up with a guy.