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I let out a sardonic laugh. “It feels like it too. What’s your name, by the way?”
“Sal. Um, Salvatore,” he answered, skittering backward. “I have to go. Be careful.”
Oh, yeah, I’d be careful. I wouldn’t be letting my guard down in this class ever again.
Zadie, Amir, and I shared an accounting class on Tuesdays and Thursdays. I’d made sure to enroll in the same section since she was an accounting major and knew her stuff. I would never say I didn’t know my stuff, but…well, numbers. If I needed help, I could just walk down the hall at home to ask her.
Amir was a senior. He probably didn’t need this class and only took it to be near Zadie—which was completely fair, in my opinion.
I arrived first, but they walked in a few minutes later. Zadie was carrying a cup, Amir had two.
“For you.” She set the cup and straw in front of me before sitting down in her chair. Amir handed her one of the coffees he was carrying before he sat down on her other side.
“What did I do to deserve this?” I picked up the condensation-covered plastic cup and poked the paper straw into the lid. Without even tasting it, I knew she had my order exactly right. That was just how Zadie was. Conscientious of others, she paid close attention, noticing little things like coffee orders, and bigger things like sour moods and hideous bruises on her roommate’s forehead.
“Did you think I’d buy coffee for myself and not bring you anything?”
I gave her a look. “Really?”
“Really.” She opened her laptop and sighed. “Well, obviously I’m concerned about you. You spent yesterday evening vacillating between kicking furniture and icing the nasty bump on your forehead—which you claim is from tripping, but you don’t trip. So, I thought if I sweetened you up with a latte, you might confide in what’s really going on. Maybe you’d even let me hug you.”
I patted the top of her head. “You’re very sweet, but I’m fine. I appreciate the coffee, though. I’ll make sure to look like a sad sack on a regular basis so I can have a repeat.”
Amir put his arm around Zadie and pulled her back into his chest. His deep, dark eyes met mine. I didn’t scare easily, but Amir made me quake on the inside. He wasn’t like Nate, and I knew for a fact he’d never hurt Zadie, but my inner prey instinct screamedrunwhen we were in close quarters.
“You need me to take care of something, I will,” he murmured.
She turned her head to look up at him. “Nonviolently, of course.”
He lifted the hand resting on her shoulder. “Hey, mama, I’ve gone straight. That doesn’t mean I can’t have a talk with someone who’s bothering your girl.”
I shook my head. “No one’s bothering me. If I do run into trouble, I’ll remember your offer.”
And I would. But one little foot in the aisle by some D-named douche canoe wasn’t going to send me running scared. The Pi Sig boys might have something else up their sleeves, and if they did, they could bring it. I’d faced down way bigger bads than overgrown, overprivileged mama’s boys who couldn’t find a clitoris if it were sixty feet tall with neon arrows pointing to it.
After class ended, Amir, Zadie, and I walked out of the building together. They were headed home, but I had one more class left. I started off in the opposite direction, only taking two steps before Amir said my name.
“Yes?”
He cleared his throat. “You’ve been hanging with my boy some, right?”
“Julien?”
He nodded. Of course he meant Julien.
“We talk. Banter. We’re neighbors, after all.”
His hand came up to rub the stubble on his chin. He had Zadie tucked in close to his side. Her head was tipped, looking up at him.
“How do you think he’s doing?” he asked.
“Well…”
His hand fell away from his face. “The kid won’t talk to me. I didn’t want him to move out of my house, but it made more sense to live where he is now. I’m thinking it was the wrong move, though. He’s withdrawing, and I can’t get a read on him.”
“Look—” I was going to have to lay out some truth that might have been uncomfortable. I very much didn’t want to, but there was no getting out of Amir’s question. “—I obviously didn’t know Julien before his injury. To me, he’s my grumpy, reclusive neighbor. There’s no baggage between us. No guilt. No pity. None of that stuff. If he’s an asshole to me, I don’t hesitate to be an asshole back. I know he’s dealing with pain, and he’s frustrated with his physical limitations. I don’t think he’s anywhere close to wheeling himself off a cliff, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
They both winced at my bluntness, but why beat around the bush and waste time?
