AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Jenna,I think again.Would she be in this class?
“Maybe I could look into art classes,” I offer, seriously wanting this conversation to be over. “Would that make you happy? Get you off my ass? If I take an art class?”
He claps his hands together. One single clap, so loud I think it blows my hair back a little bit.
“There’s only one class open,” he smirks. “Dean Rhodes hooked us up. I can get you in.”
Dean Rhodes. Now, she is seriously hot. She has that older woman vibe. She’s famous or something. Kind of short, quick, with crazy hair and bright lipstick. Seriously hot.
“Yeah, I guess. Whatever,” I agree grudgingly, knowing that he will just ride my ass incessantly about this if I don’t agree.
In the three years we have known each other, Spencer has already showed me the kind of guy he is. He is persistent and focused. That’s great for a business major, and great for a football quarterback. It also makes him as annoying as fuck. If he says things, he expects people to do them. If people don’t do them right away, he wears them down.
Weirdly, it almost always seems to work. It’s just easier to go along with him I guess.
And he isn’t thinking about it this way, but if I have an extra few credit hours I am just a little closer to graduating. He’s thinkingyay teambut I am thinkingget me the hell outta here.
Don’t get me wrong—college is a blast. I am having a great time here. But I am really looking forward to having my own life and aiming at my own future without having the other three Horsemen of the Apocalypse constantly by my side.
We eat together, practice together, sleep in the same room… Hell, Spencer won’t even let us have separate girlfriends. Everything has to be done as a team. Fantasizing about Jenna? He would have a shit fit if he knew. I have to keep it all in my head.
So I wouldn’t mind speeding this all up a little bit. Three credit hours? Four credit hours? I guess I can spare it.
Besides, the more often I’m in the art buildings, the more likely we are to hook up with an art major. They are freaky as fuck. Yeah. Spencer may have some extremely rigid ideas about what “teamwork” means, but at least we will be where the most interesting women are.
Chapter 6
LINDY
Even in winter, it’s warm here. Since we are in the South, it’s pretty warm here all year ’round. But because we’re in the mountains, the altitude keeps it from getting too hot in the summer. And the latitude keeps us from getting too cold in winter.
It’s practically perfect. We stay between sixty and ninety degrees pretty much all the time. Still, the trees seem to know it’s winter. They hibernate a bit. It’s nice to have a change. Or actually, I guess it’s nice to have things kind of die back because when they spring forth again, it’s amazing.
That should happen in just a couple of months. Every hillside will be awash in violet and pink, yellow and blue. It’s amazing.
But right now, though it is almost seventy degrees, the trees are nearly bare. Almost shy. Hibernating.
Still, since we’re in the mountains, the thin air really lets the UV through. Everybody is still pretty tan. We all still look like we’re doing ads for a cruise ship or something. You have to work to stay out of the sun.
Which is exactly what Stevie… I mean,Seattle, is doing. As I cross the quad toward the dorms with my portfolio blowing lightly in the breeze, suddenly I can see her at the far end. She’s unmistakable. I wish I’d gone the other way.
She is wearing what I guess you would call a shroud. There’s a wide brimmed hat on her head that comes to a tiny, slightly twisted peak in the middle. It is draped with black netting that flows all the way to the ground. It swirls as she walks, responding to both her movements and the light breeze.
She looks like an Edward Gorey illustration. Like, she looks like she should be accompanied by rhyming verse, with old-fashioned letters trailing out behind her with every step, floating on the breeze, describing vague threats and invocations until they gradually disappear.
The thing is, I want to avoid her if I can. But does that mean I should wait her out or run away? Since I can’t see into her veil, I can’t tell if she has seen me or not. Running might draw attention to myself.
So instead I just stop, mid-pace, and wait to see what she’s going to do. If she turns or alters course, I can scoot out the other side of the quad without running into her.
But no. I think she sees me. Actually I am pretty sure because the sides of her shroud begin to rise as she approaches me faster and faster. They stretch out like wings. Like she’s a bird or a ghost. I almost expect her to levitate.
There’s nothing I can do to stop it now. Here comes Stevie—I mean, Seattle!
“Lindyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy,” she sings as she comes closer.
She has a great singing voice, I have to admit. People turn their heads at the spectacle of little old me being overtaken by this weird, dramatic black figure with the voice of an angel.
“Hi, Seattle,” I make myself smile, silently congratulating myself on getting the name right (assuming she hasn’t changed it again since this morning).
