Fever (4 page)
I crept past his door, wondering if his girlfriend was nestled up beside him. I knew she was arriving today, and I knew he couldn't wait to introduce me. For the life of me, I could not remember her name. Sneaking over to the bulletin board above his desk, I shifted aside the class schedules and study plans, finally unearthing a picture of her.
She had a broad, yet tentative, smile. She was tucked under David's arm as he beamed at the camera. Maybe having a long-term girlfriend was a good thing. I mean, these guys had made it work long-distance for two years; that had to say something about how awesome it could be. I dropped the papers, covering up the image, and shook my head. I just didn't see the point of continually hanging out with a girl who didn't set my insides on fire. I wanted to be inspired. There was no way I wanted to settle.
Sure, I didn't believe in soul mates, but I also didn't believe in being with someone who bored me to tears. What was the point? I'd rather be single.
Dragging my tired ass toward the bed, I knew I should probably have been collecting my stuff and taking a shower, but I couldn't be bothered. I squinted at my watch, setting the alarm for 5:30 a.m.; I'd beat the early rush that way and still have plenty of time to get my stuff organized for the week ahead.
I kicked off my shoes, punched the pillow beneath my head and shuffled around until I was comfy. A slow smile spread across my lips. Tomorrow was the first day of my senior year. In less than a year
, I'd be a free agent and then I could really start making my dreams come true.
ELLA
I didn't need an alarm to wake me
; I had barely slept and by five, I'd given up. My dreams had been stuffed full of worries, my mind racing from one weird scenario to another. Nerves were doing my stomach in, making me feel nauseated, and I felt immature and stupid for being such a wreck. I'd already done a year in college for crying out loud; what the hell was my problem?
I guess I was just nervous about screwing up. What if I got lost? What if I missed a class?
What if...what if...what if.
“Arrggggh! Stop it, Ella! You're
gonna drive yourself insane,” I whispered into the darkness.
Flinging back the covers, I checked my watch again.
5:28 a.m.
I couldn't lay in bed for one more second. Turning on my lamp, I squinted against the sudden brightness and shuffled about the room. I heard Morgan creep in sometime around ten last night but didn't get up to say hi. I didn't want to talk, and Morgan always siphoned stuff out of me. She had the uncanny ability to get the truth out of people. She should be training to be an interrogator, not spending her days studying some vague business degree that gave her plenty of options and no real direction.
Pulling on my sweats, I grabbed my fluffy, yellow towel and my toiletries. This early, I should definitely miss the shower rush.
I was right.
A smile stretched my lips wide as I flicked on the lights and walked past empty stall after empty stall. I stopped at the very end one, arranging my stuff and feeling better by the second. I loved showers; they always calmed me. It was my own private time away from the world. It was weird not having a locked door, and it was weird to think that someone might walk in at any moment, but for now, I felt safe.
Flicking on the shower, I let the water heat while I undressed, a tune already working its way from my voice box. I only ever sang in private, and the
shower head was my ultimate microphone. I had toyed with the idea of singing in public once; not for the spotlight or anything, just for the opportunity to sing. I really did love it, but I couldn't imagine ever having the guts to go through with it. Singing in front of an audience? Kill me now! I'd be so petrified.
Besides, every note I sang was peppered with an eerie feeling of melancholy. It wasn't enough for me to stop singing, but it was enough for me to never want to show it to a crowd. No, I sang for me and me alone. Anyway, the kind of music that really set my soul on fire was hardly considered cool. Jody and Morgan were the only ones who knew about my love affair with jazz music, and if I had any say in it, they’d be the only ones who ever did.
A memory skittered through my brain and I winced.
“What are you doing?” David appeared behind me, pressing his hand against the wall and boxing me in as I read the Pasadena High Jazz Club audition notice. They were looking for a couple of backup singers.
I shrugged, trying to ignore his derogatory tone. “I was just looking.”
“Jazz Club?” David chuckled. “How would you stand it? I hate that kind of music. It's decades old.”
“I know, but music can be timeless.”
“Not this music.”
I glanced around in time to see his face. Pressing my lips together, I tried not to let his words rile me. As if the annoying techno beats he always blasted in his car would ever stand the test of time.
“You're not seriously thinking of auditioning, are you? I didn't even know you could sing.”
“I don't, really. I just muck around with Jody sometimes.” I shook my head, stepping back from the school bulletin board, inspired with a quick lie. “Actually, I was thinking of Jody, not me. You know how amazing her voice is. She'll sing anything.”
“Yeah.” David rolled his eyes. “I know.”
“Hey.” I lightly tugged his shirt. “She's good.”
“Oh yeah, she's amazing. Sorry, I wasn't trying to be mean.”
“I know.” I forced a grin.
“But, don't you think she's involved in enough stuff? I mean, now that she's over her wild rampage, she's actually busy with Glee Club and choir and dance. Do we really want her to get involved in yet another thing we'll have to go and watch?”
My nose wrinkled before I could stop it. “You don't like watching Jody perform?”
“Oh no, of course I do.” His dimple appeared, but the way he ran his hand through his hair told me he was hedging. “I just...” He cleared his throat, pointing back at the board. “I just don't want to have to sit through jazz as well. Please, could you just not show her this one...for me?”
His soft gaze was on full
-beam and I always found it impossible to resist. We'd been dating nearly six months, and the desire to please him was just as strong as the day he first asked me out. I didn't always understand the power he seemed to have over me, but I knew I never wanted to lose him, and so I nodded and took his hand, turning away from the audition notice and vowing never to give away my secret.
My skeleton remained locked up tight in a shower cubicle and I was happy to keep it there. It was probably the reason why I always had such long showers. Aunt Fiona used to tell me off for using up all the hot water. She'd bang on the door, interrupting me mid-verse, and tell me to hurry up. Wretched woman. She never knew how to have any fun. Her showers lasted a minute, tops. In, soap, wash, out. She had no concept of how luxurious a shower could really be.
I danced my fingers under the hot spray and sighed.
Heaven.
I stepped into the hot oasis and stretched my neck back, letting the water run down my front, heating me, soaking into my skin. I closed my eyes.
“Heaven,” I sang the word in a whisper. “I'm in heaven.”
My voice grew stronger as I sang through the first verse of “Cheek to Cheek.” Louis Armstrong and Ella Fitzgerald sang my favorite version of the song. I was so in love with those two
, probably because my mother was a jazz/swing freak. Frank Sinatra, Nat King Cole, Louis Armstrong...they were always filling our house with music. But Ella, she was my mom's favorite, and she'd quickly become mine. The woman had a voice like an angel...the supreme songbird, Mom used to say.
I ended the verse strong on the high note and was about to dip low for the last line when a deep, masculine voice joined me from the other side of the wall.
“When we're out together dancing cheek to cheek.”
My breath hitched, my heart rate tripling. Man, that was a sexy voice. My insides flooded with heat and it wasn't because of the shower. I bit my lip, wondering how to respond. My mind flashed with images of a naked man beneath his own
shower head. What did he look like? If the person matched the voice, he must be built like a Greek god. My insides coiled tight as I touched the tiles in front of me.
I'd never had such a physical reaction to someone's voice before. I mean, yeah, David was sexy in his own way, but whoever was on the other side of the wall was making my knees weak.
The man chuckled, a low, gruff sound from his throat...at least I thought it was a chuckle. It was kind of hard to hear through the wall, but then he started singing again and I heard the smooth sound with crystal clarity. “Oh, I'd love to climb a mountain and to reach the highest peak.”
He paused.
Waiting.
For me.
Pressing my lips together, I blinked a couple of times and then grinned.
COLE
My alarm jolted me awake, piercing my sleep like a sword through the brain. I reached for my watch and scrambled to turn it off, tempted to roll over and forget it ever started beeping. My eyes were just closing when I let out a groggy groan.
“Get your ass up, Cole,” I mumbled, forcing my body out of bed.
Scrubbing a hand over my face, I rubbed the back of my neck, trying to encourage my fuzzy brain into operation. The best thing to wake me up would be a shower. I grabbed my stuff and stumbled out the door.
The corridors were empty, and I liked it that way. I threw back the men’s bathroom door and hit the lights, heading for the end stall. It was the only one I used. Not sure why, just a habit I didn't want to kick.
Flinging back the curtain, I flicked on the spray and quickly undressed. The water grew hot quickly, which was awesome. I wished the spray
was a little stronger. I liked those showers that pelted your flesh, hot and hard, but getting that in these dorms was nothing but a pipedream. I'd have to swing by Nina and Mal's one night for a taste of luxury. I found more and more excuses to shower at their place since their new bathroom had been installed. Go for a meal; take a shower.
I grinned as I pictured Nina's eye roll. She told me I was ridiculous, but she didn't understand the true luxury of a shower. I stepped under the spray, throwing my head under right away and reaching for the shampoo. I was just lathering up when I heard it.
The voice of an angel.
It was soft at first, making me second
-guess myself, but it grew with strength, and I had soon picked up the lines of “Cheek to Cheek.” Hmmmm, a jazz fan.
Nina was a jazz freak. Frank Sinatra, Louis Armstrong, Cole Porter, she had it all, but nothing got her smiling like Ella Fitzgerald
; she played that stuff all the time. As a teen, I used to moan and try for something else, but the music grew on me and the lyrics were permanently embedded in my brain.
This chick singing on the other side of the wall had an Ella essence about her. It was a beautiful sound and I found myself mesmerized, shampoo suds running down the back of my neck, unnoticed.
Her sweet voice paused to take a breath, and I couldn't help myself. I sung the next line loud and clear.
“When we're out together, dancing cheek to cheek.”
There was an abrupt pause. I grinned. I must have scared her. Licking my lips, I sang the next line and stopped. It was her turn. Would she join me? I hoped so. I wanted to hear that voice again. It was so sweet and pure. It did something to me. My insides stirred with longing as I pictured what she might look like. I bet she was petite. She sounded small. Small and sweet.
I felt like I was trying to coax a timid sparrow into my hand and was about to open my mouth to sing the next line when she sang it for me.
“But it doesn't thrill me half as much as dancing cheek to cheek.” She put a slight spin on the melody that I loved. I smiled so wide my cheeks hurt. She kept going with the song and I joined her again. Her volume increased as she got into it. She even harmonized with me on the last chorus. I had to say, for someone who never sings in public, I felt like I sounded pretty damn good alongside her.
She had to be
a music major or something. Surely. With a voice that sweet.
The song came to a finish, and I almost felt bereft. I didn't want it to end, so before thought could stop me, I started singing my favorite song from that era: “They Can't Take That Away From Me.” I liked the Frank Sinatra version best, although Robbie Williams had done a pretty good job of it
, too.
I heard her giggling as I finished the first line, and her voice immediately followed, sweetly floating over the notes with perfect pitch. I spun as I sang, rinsing off my hair and throwing my voice to the sky. It was easy to forget the world existed for a moment. This girl and me were the only people on the planet, just singing away to each other…a perfect moment.
We held the last note, both chuckling as we caught our breath. I was about to launch into another number when I heard the bathroom door squeak. I flicked off the spray and listened to shuffling feet down the end of the line. Moments later the shower was flicked on, ending my heavenly morning and bringing me back to reality.
Touching the tiles on the wall, I called out. “Hey, are you still there?”
“Yes.” Her reply was soft, tentative.
“You...you sound like an angel. I swear, a voice straight from
heaven.” I heard a muffled titter and could picture her blushing up a storm. I needed to see her. I wanted to know the color of her eyes, see what type of mouth that melody flowed from. “I'll meet you outside.”
She didn't say anything
, so I took it as a yes. Grabbing my towel, I dried off in record time and threw on my clothes, using my fingers as a comb. It didn't make that much of a difference; my curls were pretty hard to control, which was why I liked to keep my hair on the shorter side. I wondered if she liked curly hair.
I rolled my eyes and laughed at myself. Since when had I ever cared what a girl thought of me? This was insane!
My insides were giddy with excitement as I raced into the hall and whipped around the corner to the girl's bathroom door. I didn't see anyone lingering outside and figured she was still getting dressed. Man, I couldn't wait to see what she looked like. Images built themselves inside my mind, being tossed aside for newer versions as I leaned against the wall and waited. I didn't want to look like a stalker or anything, so I tried for casual, crossing my legs at the ankles and leaning my head back against the wall.
It felt like it took forever, but finally the bathroom door crept open and a spindly girl with long
, blonde hair stepped out of the room. Her pale-brown eyes caught me gazing at her and she smiled.
“Hey.” I stepped forward, probably looking like a dope. I didn’t know what my face was doing, but I felt like my smile was really goofy.
She blushed, looking shy as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Hi.” Her brow flickered, but then her lips spread with a smile.
“I'm Cole.” I held out my hand, wanting to feel her, experience even the smallest touch of my shower bird.
She took my hand, her long fingers gently squeezing mine. She still looked slightly confused by my forthright introduction, but surely she knew I wanted to talk to her. That moment we'd just shared wasn't only magical for me, was it?
I cleared my throat. “Can I walk you to your room?”
She glanced down the hall and then back to me, her shoulders finally lifting in a shrug. “Sure, I guess so.”
She turned and I followed her, unable to keep looking across at her. She was pretty tall. Nothing
like my six-one, but she wouldn't have to tiptoe to kiss me. I guess I was wrong about the petite thing, but she was pretty. I liked her lopsided grin and the way she kept glancing at me and then blushing.
“So what's your name then, or are you gonna make me guess?”
She giggled, turning left down the corridor. “Caroline.”
I played the name in my head, liking the sound of it. “Caroline. It's nice to meet you.”