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He rubs the nape of his neck, avoiding my eye. “I’m sorry,” he says. “I never meant to make you feel bad. I’ve always objected to that uniform, especially once Ginny had to start wearing it, and you … just look … it fits you differently is all,” he concludes haltingly, growing more flustered and awkward with each breath.

I didn’t know James was capable of awkwardness. I let his words settle over me, creating a small seed of warmth in my stomach. I could be misunderstanding him, but if I’m not, it’s possible that James Campbell has finally, after all this time, decided I’m attractive.

Chapter 7

He’s sitting at the kitchen table when I come downstairs the next morning. His posture is relaxed into what I’ve already to come to think of as “the James sprawl”. Too big and too long for normal-people furniture, his legs spread wide, his arms relaxed. He’s sitting there with Max and another guy who must be the mysterious fifth roommate, Dan. Max is talking smack and James’s mouth is turned up — a smile about to morph into laughter. I remember that look. It affects me even more now than it did then.

And then he sees me and the laughter dies in his throat, the smile fades.

“Good morning,” I say uneasily. His face has gone from happiness to consternation in two seconds and it’s clearly me causing it.

“Good morning,” he says politely, but his eyes are wary. He introduces me to Dan, who stares at me as if I’m a gargoyle before mumbling something incoherent and practically running from the room.

“Geez, guys, what the hell did you tell him about me?” I ask. “People usually get to know me first and then run from the room.”

Max and James exchange a look. “Dan’s a little shy,” says James.

“Didn’t you say he manages an amusement park?” I ask. “Seems like that’d be a hard job for someone who has to flee the minute a new person walks in.”

“He’s a little shy around girls whose mothers were supermodels,” says Max.

“Ah,” I say uncomfortably. “I guess that would narrow it down a little.”

James stands to leave. He’d never admit it, but I get the feeling I’m driving him from the room too.

**

I shadow Kristy through her double shift that afternoon and evening. I can already tell this is going to be an uphill battle for me. She effortlessly remembers a huge order without writing it down, while I can barely remember to fulfill entirely reasonable requests for things like ketchup and silverware. It really doesn’t bode well.

James is working too, and that’s the problem that consumes me most. Though unfailingly polite, he seems to be avoiding me. That odd wariness of his in the kitchen was no anomaly. He speaks to Kristy when we come to the bar and actively ignores me — not an easy feat when we’re standing right beside each other. He teases the other waitresses, an easy, crooked smile lighting up his face, but he doesn’t say a single word to me unless he has to. It’s almost as if he’s going out of his way to act like I don’t exist.

I wish I could do the same, but the truth is that all I want to do is stare at him. He hasn’t changed all that much since he was 21. He’s still got that same kind of intense focus on things he always had, which he punctuates sporadically by saying something ridiculously funny, with only that slight rise to his lips to indicate he’s telling a joke. He still has that smile too – the one that gives you just the tiniest glimpse inside of him. For just a fraction of a second you see his big heart and his good intentions and the sense that there is so much more to him than meets the eye.

Except he never smiles at me.

After work we end up at home sitting on the deck. There’s apparently a certain amount of adrenaline after waiting tables that needs to subside before you can sleep. Time helps. So does beer. James finally seems to relax around me then. He actually smiles, meets my eye. He teases me about my regrettable childhood fascination with “My Little Pony”, and the fact that I used to dress up like Harry Potter to go to the movie premieres. It takes so little for him to make me happy. Perhaps it’s for the best that he rarely tries.

Chapter 8

When Paulina calls a second time, I answer.

Be smart not defiant. Be smart not defiant.

“I know Stacy spoke to you a few days ago, and it sounds like there was a bit of a misunderstanding,” she says. “No one here meant to threaten you in any way.”

“Okay,” I say cautiously.

“I have every intention of making this up to you,” she says. “Right now, it’s important that you remain out of the spotlight, but once this dies down we can get you an internship somewhere else. A job, even. And if you want to work part-time at the affiliate up in Ithaca when you go back to school, we can make that happen too.”

The earth finally seems to right itself. “So how long do I have to ‘disappear’?” I ask.

“I’m not sure¸” she says. “This could blow over quickly, or it may take a little time. But the less you do or say, the faster it ends. Can you live with that?”

“Yes,” I reply, relief settling over me. Nothing is over. This can all go away.

I think about James then and realize I’m not sure I want it to.

**