Stacy's Dad Has Got It Going On (14 page)

“Maybe that’s why you slept so late,”
Stacy went on. “That happens to me sometimes, when I take a lot of ibuprofen. I
don’t know why, but I get super, super tired.”

Savannah probably knew the
physio-chemical reason behind such a reaction, but she was still too hazy to
ponder academics. As she filled a cup with old coffee, she turned to Stacy and
asked, “What’s on the books for today? You guys planning some fun in the sun?”

Stacy glanced out the window across
the way. “Well, it’s raining out, so not exactly.”

“We were thinking of taking in the new
exhibit at the university art gallery,” Eric said. “Stacy was telling me
there’s a photo essay by one student who spent her summer doing aid work in
India. Sounds like just my cup of tea.”

“Yeah, for sure.” Savannah was
desperate for an immediate dose of caffeine, so she put her cold coffee in the
microwave and hoped for the best. “I would love to see what they’ve got going
on at the gallery. Would you believe I’ve never been? Not once.”

“Well, I’m afraid you won’t be seeing
it today,” Eric replied, in an unnecessarily paternal tone of voice. “Unless
you’re willing to let us steer you around the place in a wheelchair. You took
quite a tumble last night and today you need to rest.”

Savannah couldn’t think what to do
except stare at Eric as the microwave dinged behind her. She gazed at him in
disbelief for a few moments more before turning to retrieve her cup of coffee.
Stacy snacked on grapes as she cut in, “I can’t believe you slid down that hill
by the river to rescue some guy’s dog! I didn’t think you even liked animals.
You vetoed my idea of getting a ferret.”

“Well, ferrets are creepy,” she said,
racing to assemble in her mind the lie Eric had told: Savannah had rescued a
dog. Okay, she could play along with that. “It was no big deal. I just slipped
a bit and turned my ankle funny. It’s fine now. I wish you would believe me.”

“Feeling fine isn’t the same as being
fine,” Eric cut in. “You need to stay off your feet.”

Savannah couldn’t help rolling her
eyes. If this is how Eric insisted on acting when Stacy was around—all paternal
and father-knows-best—then maybe she’d give the art gallery a pass. “Well, if
you’re driving to campus, would you at least drop me off at the library? I
promise to find a nice comfy study carrel and stay seated.”

“You can’t just study here?” Eric
asked.

With a laugh, Stacy turned to her
father and said, “Savannah’s very ritual-driven when it comes to studying. It
has to be at the library, and she has to have the textbook on the left side of
her note paper and her pens and highlighters all lined up in order of size.”

Eric joined his daughter in laughing,
but that didn’t bother Savannah. Her mind was too busy playing tricks on her.
As she watched Stacy’s father put his arm around his daughter, strange thoughts
shifted through her mind. Who looked better as a couple? Eric and Savannah or
Eric and Stacy?
What a stupid question!
Stacy was his daughter, she was
no competition for Savannah.

And then Savannah remembered Chris.
How could last night at Kingsley’s have slipped her mind so quickly? Stacy had
obviously poached Chris, and that’s what had given Savannah the go-ahead to
pursue Eric. It started off as payback, in a sense, hadn’t it? Now all she
could think about was how Eric cared more about Stacy than he did about her.
But of course he did, for goodness’ sake! Of course he would care more about
his own daughter and want to spend time with her, especially now when their
little family was on such troubled footing. What kind of a ruthless bitch was
she, trying to cut in on them now?

“Well, if you insist on leaving the
house, I guess the library is a quiet enough spot for a young woman in
recovery,” Eric said from across the kitchen. “But if you’re leaving with us,
hop to it and get dressed.”

In her state, she wouldn’t be hopping
for any reason. Maybe she was lying to herself a bit, and certainly lying to
Stacy and Eric. Her ankle was still a little tender when she walked on it, and
as she made her way down the hall with her coffee cup in hand, she held the
wall for support. A Sunday at the library didn’t demand much better an outfit
than track pants and a hoodie, thank god, but when she put on her socks, she
was surprised to find her ankle still swollen. Would her shoe fit? And if it
didn’t, would Eric ground her? She pulled an old pair of sneakers from the
closet, loosened the laces, and slipped her foot inside. This would have to do
for today.

She hobbled out to the kitchen,
weighed down by her backpack, and said, “I’m ready.”

Eric grabbed the bag from her shoulder
and looked to Stacy. “Help her along, will you? What she really needs is a pair
of crutches.”

“No I don’t.” Or maybe she did, but
she wasn’t going to admit it.

When Stacy slipped her arm around
Savannah’s waist and guided her toward the door Eric held open for them,
Savannah felt all kinds of weird. She was pissed at Stacy for stealing Chris,
but she didn’t want to bring it up or cause any controversy because Stacy could
just as easily throw everything with Eric back in her face…if she knew about
it…which she probably didn’t.

As Eric walked ahead down the
staircase, Stacy let out a bit of a giggle and said, “Oh my god, I have so much
to tell you!”

“About last night?” Savannah
whispered. “I don’t want to know.”

“You don’t want to hear about me
hooking up with Yu?”

“With me?” Savannah said, furling her
brow. “You’re dreaming, girl.”

Stacy chuckled. “Yeah right. I mean
with Yu, Y-U…you know?”

“No.” What the hell was this girl
talking about?

“The Asian guy in Circle Six,” Stacy
explained. “The one who plays his laptop like an instrument. Him.”

“Him?” Savannah would never have
guessed. “How did you get so chummy with the band, anyway?”

Stacy guided Savannah down onto the
first landing and let her adjust her position. “Well, you’re probably going to
kill me for this, but I went down early because I wanted to put in a good word
for you with Chris.”

“What?” Savannah tried not to shout.
She didn’t want to attract Eric’s attention, even if he was off in the
distance. “Why the hell would you do that?”

“Well, you know, sometimes you come
off a bit….”

“What, nerdy?” Savannah asked, trying
to balance on her one good foot.

“I was going to say intense, but yeah,
like intensely into your homework, basically. I just thought I’d go down to
Kingsley’s and let the guy know how cool you really are.”

Savannah laughed. “Now that’s a lie.”

“Yeah, but I wanted him to go into it
at least thinking you were this awesome chick. I’m just digging myself in
deeper, aren’t I?”

“Yes.” In truth, Savannah knew she was
a total science nerd. Her idea of the perfect date with Chris involved quizzing
each other for the mid-term. It was her smarts that made her feel sexy, because
her knowledge helped her to feel confident. Although, with Eric, she’d just had
fun with no pressure to be super-intelligent. Maybe, with him, she’d learned to
relax just a little. “So, that’s when you met this Yu guy? When you were
talking me up with Chris?”

Stacy giggled. “Oh my god, you would
not believe the stuff we did together!”

Just like you wouldn’t believe the
stuff I did with your father
.

“How’s it going up there, girls?” Eric
called out from the bottom of the stairs.

Rolling her eyes, Stacy said, “I’ll
tell you all about it later. Oh, and I’m sorry for dumping my dad on you. You
didn’t have to babysit him, you know.”

Savannah shrugged as she hobbled down
the stairs. “It was fine. Really.” She held herself back from saying anything
even as controversial as, “We had fun together.” That could be categorized as
an understatement anyway.

Chapter Fifteen

“How did I know I’d see you here
today?”

Savannah looked up to find Chris
hovering over her study carrel. “Maybe because you see me here pretty much
every day.”

Shhh!
The assault of shushes came on from
every direction, firing on them like machine guns.
Shhh! Shhh! Shhh!
Chris rolled his eyes and shrugged his shoulders. His wide smile made her heart
leap under her ratty old hoodie, but she was past the point of caring what
Chris saw her in. She wasn’t particularly mindful of fashion when she dressed
for labs or tutorials or Sunday study sessions in the library. He’d seen her in
all states of dress, but the keen look in his eye suggested he wouldn’t mind
seeing her in a state of undress too.

“Want to go to the atrium and grab a
coffee?” Savannah whispered.

“I don’t drink coffee,” he whispered
back.

She felt like an idiot, because he’d
mentioned that before. “Herbal tea, then?”

“Yeah, sounds good.”

Shhh! Shhh! Shhh!

Stifling a giggle, Savannah assembled
her books and slid them neatly into her bag, and then picked up her writing
instruments and slipped them into their assigned pouch. It wasn’t that she was
fussy—hell, her room at home was kind of a mess—but she liked to keep her
school things in order. Organization helped her to feel smart when she came
across a difficult question.

She was so taken by Chris’ shining
smile, she forgot to be careful as she rose to her feet. The minute she put
pressure on her left ankle, it gave out and she tumbled back down into her
chair.

“Oh my god, are you okay?” Chris
cried.

Shhh! Shhh! Shhh!

“Yeah, we’re leaving,” he hissed,
picking up her backpack and weaving his arm underneath her shoulders. As they
hobbled toward the exit, he asked, “What happened?”

“My ankle,” Savannah said once they’d
gone out the library doors. “It’s nothing. I just twisted it. Whatever.”

Chris set her down on one of the
atrium’s circa 1970 comfy vinyl couches and placed both their bags and his own
umbrella on the floor. The place was usually swarming with students, but on a
Sunday it was brimming with peace. Would have been nice if the sun was out to
shine through the skylights high overhead, but the rain tumbling down against
the plexiglass had a charm all its own.

“What do you mean your ankle,
whatever? What happened?”

“It was stupid,” she said. “I slid
down the riverbank by Kingsley’s and…whatever…it’s not a big deal.”

He looked at her through squinted
eyes. When he laughed, she felt as though he could see every one of last
night’s misdemeanors. Chris had that quality about him: he looked at you, and
you were sure he was seeing your many crimes.

“You wanted a coffee,” he finally
said.

“Oh, yeah.” She reached for her bag.

“No, it’s okay. I’ve got it.”

But when she thought about coffee, her
stomach shook its head. “Thanks…actually, what are you having?”

He smiled as he picked change out of
his pocket. “The
Beanmeister
over there makes a mean loose-leaf jasmine
tea. Want me to get you one?”

“Yeah, sure.” All those green teas
reminded her of her mother. They tasted like boiled socks as far as Savannah
was concerned, but if Chris liked it she’d give it another chance. When he
returned with two porcelain mugs, she was really impressed. “How did you get
these? I thought they only stocked those paper take-away cups.”

Chris shrugged. “You just have to know
how to ask, I guess.”

There was some indescribable quality
about Chris that made him eminently likeable. With those dreadlocks and the
ripped clothing, he looked like the kind of guy she should be wary of, but once
she sat down and talked to him, she realized he was unlike anyone else she’d
ever met. He was an ultra-cool environmental neo-hippie musician guy. And he
cared. About everything. About everybody he met or encountered or even tripped
over on the street. He was so giving of his time and energy. That was such an
attractive quality in a man.

And he was right about the jasmine
tea—it tasted pretty damn good!

“So, I guess you must have been pretty
drunk to fall down the riverside,” Chris said, sitting down beside her on the
couch as he sipped his tea.

Savannah laughed. “No, I don’t drink.
I was just being stupid.”

A smile of affinity grew across Chris’
lips. “Hey, no way! I don’t drink either. There are so few of us on campus who
don’t. This place is full of tearaways asserting their independence from
parents they perceive as overbearing.”

“Yeah,” Savannah agreed. “That’s what
university is, for most of these kids: permission to party non-stop.”

Chris tossed his dreadlocks back and
laughed. “Did you just say, ‘these kids’? Like you’re not one of them?”

Yes, okay, it sounded high-and-mighty
of her, but she often felt like she didn’t belong on campus, except to study.
“I know I’m still young, but to tell you the truth, I’ve never really felt like
a young person.”