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There was a loud humph, then silence descended on the other end of the line again.
“Julie?”
“I turned off my treadmill,” Julie huffed. “I need to hear all about this. In detail.”
“Which is why I’m taking the hour plus drive back there this morning. Well, I’m actually picking up some work from school, but hopefully I can see you, too? I was wondering if you could meet me at Grinds, in say, two hours?” She glanced at the clock. Ten minutes to leave the house, an hour and a quarter drive, fifteen minutes in her classroom, max, then a meandering walk to the nearby coffee shop. The timing worked.
“Absolutely,” Julie replied without hesitation. “Just try to keep me away. This is an interesting development and it needs to be dissected.”
“While imbibing in lots of caffeine,” Pixie interjected.
“Copious amountsof caffeine,” Julie agreed. “Okay. Let me shower and tell hubby I won’t be able to watch that Star Trek marathon with him, then I’ll meet you.”
“Oh. Wait.” Pixie suddenly felt bad for derailing her friend’s plans. “Don’t change your day for me,” Pixie told her. “I’d hate for Ian to be disappointed.”
“Oh, puh-lease.” Pixie could almost see the eye-roll. “This is only thefour-thousandthtime we’ve seen season two.”
“What about his lunch, then, if we get chatting too long?” Pixie didn’t want Ian to be pouty because of her.
“Phht,” Julie responded. “I’m sure he can rustle up his own plomeek soup.”
Pixie giggled, having watched a few episodes of the space show with her neighbors, she knew it was a Star Trek reference. “Uh, don’t you mean Gagh?”
Pixie was proud of herself to remember the name of the Klingon food made from—eww—hot worms.
“Ah, Pixie, Pixie, Pixie. That’s not until Next Generation. We’re going to have to expand on your Trek-ucation if you’re going to remain my number one, best friend. Anyway, Ian will be fine.”
“Tell him you’ll bring him home some bear-claws from Grinds,” Pixie added seriously. “That should make him happy.”
“Good idea. But don’t worry. He’ll be knee deep in Tribbles and won’t miss me at all. I’ll see you in two hours, Pix.”
Julie hung up, and Pixie grinned at the phone.
Now that’s what friends were all about.
Pixie stackedup all the books and info she needed to plan an engaging program for her students, satisfied that a few new ideas were springing to mind. Therefore, she was deep into her own thoughts as she left the school and walked across the full parking lot, her good arm laden with papers.
Was that…? She thought she heard a hail from somewhere nearby. She paused, listened, then told herself she must have been imagining things when a hand suddenly came out of nowhere and grabbed onto her limp arm.
“Wh—?” She nearly dropped her stack as she was abruptly spun around.
“Peter,” she spat.
“Yeah. It’s me,” he answered with an oily grin, as if her truncated use of his name had sounded like a happy greeting. “I thought you weren’t coming to the game today?”
He indicated the plethora of cars, and she groaned, having forgotten that a soccer tourney was taking place in the adjacent high school.
Peter waited for her response, managing to leer at her in a way that made her feel icky and uncomfortable.
“I’m not,” she said, sending eye-daggers down to the hand with which he still gripped her. “I’m just picking up some class work.”
“Why the hurry? Now that you’re here, you could join me,” he said smarmily. “And if you’re a good girl, I’ll even procure you a…hotdog later.” His eyebrows went up as his lids slid to half-mast.
Gross!
He didnotjust give that really nasty double-entendre.
“Sorry Peter.”Gag, gag. “I have plans to meet a girlfriend, then I’m headed to my sister’s house.”
