Finding Dell (20 page)

“Here, let me put this down so you don’t have to lay right on the wet sheets,” he whispered as he arranged the tiny towel under the spot where I’d been lying.

I let out a heavy breath and forced a smile, leaning up on my elbows to kiss Cam. His normally pale face was ghostly in the glow from the electronics in the room. I ran my hand down his arm and pulled him closer.

“Cuddle with me,” I said softly.

Cam swaddled us with blankets and wrapped his thin arms around me. I let out a breath to release the tension from my shoulders, hoping Cam and I would melt into each other, but we were angles and elbows.

We didn’t fit.

Pellets of ice hit the window with a gentle patter in the morning. When I woke, I faced the chilled wall with the blankets bunched up around me. I rolled over and saw Cam curled with a wispy sheet. He had put on his sweatshirt during the night. I watched him for a few minutes and wondered if he’d resorted to his sweatshirt for warmth immediately, or if he’d tried to cuddle with me as I’d requested and I’d resisted during the night.

Either way, the sweatshirt was not a good sign.

CHAPTER 22

“I DON’T UNDERSTAND
. Do you actually love him?” Ruby asked, raising her voice to be heard over the howling wind. Her strawberry blond hair fluttered under her blue wool hat.

“Not yet. But it’s probably only a matter of time before I fall in love with him.”

I bowed my chin to my chest to shield against the angry gusts. Ahead, the modern curves of the engineering building loomed but didn’t provide shelter. I gazed at Magnolia Banks Lake. It had just started to freeze near the edges and the weeping willows near the shore were bent with icicles.

“I just think that if I told him I loved him, the sex wouldn’t be so bad,” I continued. “Maybe he would relax if I said it.”

Ruby stopped and grabbed my arm with her gloved hand. She bounced on the balls of her feet to keep warm and shook her head as she looked at me.

“That’s not how it works, Dell, and you should know that. Love’s not a formula. And saying ‘I love you’ doesn’t guarantee that things will get better with him. I think you just want to say the words. You don’t feel it, not with Cam. I think you feel
cheated that you never said it with Will, when you were in love with him.”

“I’m starting to wonder if I was in love with a feeling, a moment with Will.”

When Dean suggested I was remembering two or three good moments, it rattled me harder than I thought it would. He might even be right. I nodded my head toward the Student Union and Ruby started walking again.

“Maybe, with Cam, it could be more than just a moment that turned into a memory of a good kiss,” I said.

“You deserve more than a moment of happiness,” Ruby said. “I just don’t want you to get ahead of yourself and tell Cam you love him already. I think you’d regret it.”

“Did you ever tell Nicholas you loved him?”

“Yes, and that’s why I’m telling you not to tell Cam.”

I didn’t respond. Ruby’s lack of support surprised me, causing a nagging seed of doubt about Cam to flutter through my mind.

When we pushed open the doors to the Student Union, we blew inside with a gust of long-dead autumn leaves. The student organization fair took place in the large second-floor ballroom, with rows of brightly decorated booths that recruited students to join clubs and volunteer for countless causes.

“Which groups are you interested in?”

I shook my head as I gazed around. “You know I’m not a joiner. I’m not good in a group setting. The occasional yoga class with Natalie is about all I can be persuaded to do.” I laughed. “We’re here for you.”

Ruby smiled as she pulled off her hat and shook out her hair.

“Let’s find the student council booth. They plan homecoming and late night lock-ins for freshman in the dorms. Remember when we did that last year, in Sugarbush?’

“Of course! You’d be great at planning events like that.”

Ruby paused to peer around. “We’re in the section of clubs related to university majors. If we pass Greek Row over there, we should find the general groups by the sports clubs.”

We passed booths for the Aviation Club, Journalism Society, and the Horticulture Association. Groups of pretty girls gathered around the booths advertising sororities, and it was easy to spot the similarities between each cluster.

We kept walking, and just past the booth for the Feminist Film Theory club sat the Student Council’s booth. Ruby hurried ahead and reached eagerly for glossy pamphlets while I hung behind.

At a nearby booth, I recognized a familiar voice and was surprised to see Alex gesturing excitedly to a skinny boy in an oversized coat by a sign that said “Eta Delta Nu.”

After the boy wandered away clutching a sheaf of papers from Alex, I approached.

“So what are you selling here?”

Alex pulled me into a hug. “I’m surprised to see you! I doubt you’re interested in joining Eta Delta, so I’ll spare you my pitch.”

I peered closer at the signs propped up on the table. They were hand-made and advertised Eta Delta Nu as the political science honor society. I wondered if Alex had made them himself, sitting in his small apartment carefully drawing the posters in the days leading up to the fair.

I gestured to the signs propped on the table. “I didn’t know you were involved in any clubs.”

Alex nodded vigorously. “I’m the chair of Eta Delta Nu. I thought you knew.” He shrugged. “Anyway, even if you didn’t know how active I am in the club, you probably picked up on my love of political science. The shelves in my bedroom are stuffed with poli-sci books.”

A light touch on my shoulder made me turn. Cam stood behind me. His eyes were sharp with understanding, maybe jealousy, and I realized he’d overheard my conversation with Alex. I replayed our short interaction in my head and knew Cam understood it to mean that I’d been in Alex’s bedroom plenty of times.

“I wanted to show you the booth for Spokes, but if you’re busy. . .”

“Spokes is the bike club, right? I really want to get into riding my mountain bike more this spring,” Alex said, leaning past me. “Nice to meet you, man. I’m Alex.”

He reached forward and grabbed Cam’s hand to give it an enthusiastic shake.

Cam returned his shake with a feeble pump and looked startled.

“It’s a basic bike repair club,” he said.

“Even more reason for me to join. I need to work on my bike repair skills. I can barely change an inner tube when I get a flat.”

“That makes two of us,” I said, my voice high-pitched. “I’d like to take a look at the Spokes booth myself. Alex, good seeing you.”

I steered Cam away from Alex’s booth quickly.

In front of the Spokes booth, a boy demonstrated how to clean the chain on a road bike to a group of onlookers. The boy’s fingers were greasy as he pointed out how to use a cog brush.

Cam stared at the demonstration and refused to make eye contact with me. I nudged him lightly with my elbow.

“You’re not mad at me, are you?” I asked quietly.

Cam didn’t speak.

I eyed a greasy rag in the boy’s hand while I felt a rush of heat creeping into my cheeks.

“Ruby is probably looking for me.”

“Okay.”

I bit my lip and turned to face Cam. He didn’t turn his head but glanced at me out of the corner of his eye.

“See you in the communications building after class on Tuesday?” I asked.

He tilted his chin, once, slowly, to his chest. He turned his attention back to the boy’s demonstration and took a few eager steps forward, away from me.

“One problem to watch for when you’re cleaning is tight links, which no longer bend and flex smoothly,” he said to the small group gathered around the Spokes table.

I felt my jaw hang loose in surprise at his dismissal. After a moment’s hesitation, I rushed down the aisle, away from the booths for Spokes and Eta Delta Nu, in search of Ruby’s blue scarf against her strawberry blond hair.

Professor Amy Liu didn’t hold court at the front of the classroom, or pace beside the blackboard to get attention, like other teachers. She sat with the students, nestled in the center row of computers. She didn’t raise her voice when she spoke, her tone conversational, approachable.

“This and this.” Professor Liu touched a hand to her head and then to the computer keyboard. “These are your tools. Creativity and production. This class will show you how to marry design fundamentals and conceptual thinking in digital applications.”

Professor Liu continued to speak about the syllabus of the digital art course, and how she would help improve our artwork by the end of the semester. Students crowded closer to hear her speak, and, coupled with the heat from rows of humming computers, the room reached a stifling temperature. Winter coats
were draped over the back of chairs and fluffy scarves slid off their perches into brightly colored piles of knits on the tile floor.

I felt my stomach rumble and remembered that, knowing I’d see Cam for the first time since the student organization fair, I’d skipped lunch, anticipating that we would go to the Student Union to eat after class.

There was a budding seed of doubt in my stomach, a pesky reminder that my relationship with Cam wasn’t going as smoothly as I’d anticipated. As if sex had set us back instead of moving our relationship forward, I felt I needed to claw my way back into Cam’s good graces if I wanted us to work.

I wasn’t ready to witness another relationship dissolve, not after I thought I could end up loving him one day. But then I wondered if Ruby was right. Did I love him, or was I tricking myself into the thought, my eagerness mixing with desperation to fool me?

I shook my head to clear my wandering thoughts and tuned back into Professor Liu. Although she strived to create a classroom that was more a discussion forum than lecture, no one responded to her earnest comments or questions.

“The design conference will be held in Frankfort at the end of next month. It’s a visionary’s dream, with discussions with industry leaders on everything from branding to typography to trend spotting,” Professor Liu said. “There’s a student contest underway, where the winner will have a chance to have their portfolio seen by design’s most innovative leaders. And, of course, there’s a monetary prize.”

I raised my hand partway. “Is anyone eligible to submit work to the contest?”

Professor Liu gazed at me thoughtfully. “Madeleine, is it?” she asked. “Why don’t you and I chat about the rules of eligibility after class.”

Her voice didn’t lilt at the end of her sentence and I realized it wasn’t a question. With a twinge of nervousness at contradicting her, I grimaced.

“I am unavailable after class today, but I’d still like to discuss it with you at another time if possible.”

Professor Liu nodded sagely and a hint of disappointment shadowed her dark eyes.

When class ended, I gathered my coat and scarf in hand and hurried to Cam’s camera production classroom. It was filled with dozens of cameras mounted on tripods, arching lights, and expensive field monitors.

Inside, he talked to his professor, a bearded man in a thick fisherman’s sweater, while I waited by the door, trying to be discreet yet visible. Impatience surged through me, heating me up to my fingertips. I clenched my fists inside my jacket pockets and berated myself for not speaking to Professor Liu about the design conference. The longer I waited for Cam, the more it hit me that I was choosing a man over professional opportunities.

When Cam emerged, he barely seemed to notice me. I reminded myself to make an effort to make it work with Cam, so I summoned a cheerful smile and reached for his hand.

“My stomach is rumbling so loud I thought there was a helicopter overhead at first,” I joked. “Let’s head over to the Student Union for some food before I pass out from hunger.”

“It’s not a good time, Dell. I have to visit my advisor.”

“That’s okay, I can wait a little longer to eat. The advisors are just down the hall and digital art was my last class of the day.”

I gestured to the north wing of the building, where the advisory offices carried the thick, wet ink scent of the school newspaper’s printing press.

“Not an academic advisor. I need to see my financial advisor.”

“Oh,” I said. “Did you have an appointment and forget that we had plans after class?”

“No, this just came up during class. I don’t want you to wait for me. You should go back to the dorm. Go eat with Ruby or something.”

His hand was limp in mine and the nagging seed of doubt about our relationship grew. A flash of him turned away from me in bed after we had sex—and another flash of him ignoring me at the student organization fair—skimmed through my mind and I grasped his hand tighter.

“Don’t be silly. I’ll come with you.”

I couldn’t let another boyfriend become disinterested so quickly.

He went into the office and closed the door firmly behind him. I could see his silhouette through the frosted glass panel beside the door. I saw him take a seat on the edge of the chair and lean his elbows on the desk in front of him, his posture tense and impatient. The voices inside the office were muffled until I sat down in a chair next to the door.

“When I signed up for the multi-camera class, it wasn’t made clear to me that there would be an additional lab fee on top of the cost of the course credits.”

“Mr. Finn, you have to understand that many of your courses will have lab fees, as you are in an interactive major that deals with expensive equipment. Would you like to discuss the option of taking out another loan to help with these costs?”

Cam responded with an answer that I couldn’t hear, but apparently the advisor missed it, too.

“Pardon me?” the advisor asked, his voice gentle.

“I said, I’m in over my head as it is.” His voice was loud, insistent, but defeated.

While I strained to listen to their conversation, I didn’t realize that I was biting my nails, mindlessly alternating my fingers in my mouth until my nails were ragged.

When the door flew open and Cam hurried into the office’s waiting room, I saw him take in my concerned eyes and fingernail clamped tightly in my mouth. I saw in his eyes that he knew I had heard about his financial struggles, and a blush of embarrassment crept to his face before I saw him shake it away and replace it with a hard look.