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“Because I came to pick you up and found them interrogating your neighbors! Where the fuck are you?”
I frown, “I’m walking across campus, headed to work.”
Trip growls. Like a real, legitimate growl. Now that I’ve talked to Pianna and unloaded the stress hanging off my shoulders, I can laugh at the absurd noise. So I do. The few students I pass on the way to the library don’t spare me a second glance.
“Where’d you stay last night?” he asks.
“At a hotel. Why?”
Rather than answer my question he counters, “Why didn’t you tell us? Call us?”
I frown at the fury in his tone. What is his problem? I shake my head as I walk up the front steps to the Atwater Library building. “Look, I have to go. I’m walking into work. We’ll talk another time, ok?”
I don’t give him a chance to respond. Hanging up, I open the door and walk inside. The text messages coming in are from Jason and Grant asking what happened. In the break room, I quickly assure everyone in the group text that I’m fine, then shove my phone into my skirt pocket and get to work.
* * *
“Bri,I’m so impressed with your presentation. The diagrams were incredible!” Ms. Barbara beams at me, steering me out of the conference room on the first floor as the rest of the professors in the science department linger behind to discuss department related issues.
My heart soars and I grin. I’m beyond exhausted, starving, and have been counting down the minutes before I can go back to my hotel room and down a bottle of wine with Pianna on the phone, but my boss’s praise has made this long, miserable day so much better.
“Really? There weren’t too many? I couldn’t tell if they were too complicated, but I’m a visual learner so I figured there were others who liked the aid as well.”
My boss tsks dismissively. “No, it was perfect. The fact that you dove in to learn the entire system is just…” My boss shakes her head with pride. “You did well, Briella.”
“Thanks,” I beam as I head to the break room as she heads up front to the desk to take the evening shift.
I grab my purse and leave the Atwater Library to head to my car. On my way, I check my phone. Pianna has sent a day’s worth of GIFs in the span of an hour. I smile at each of them. As I walk to my car my phone vibrates.
Jason: Dinner at our place tonight?
Jason: Plz?
Please? Since when do any of them say please? Rather than endeared, I’m suspicious. What does he want? To mess with me? My shoulders sag, my steps falter. No, not tonight. I don’t know how to respond, but I know I have to. I’ve learned what happens when I don’t answer when they reach out.
Me: I’m exhausted. 2morrow?
I don’t get a response by the time I get to the parking lot. When I get there, I realize why.
My car’s gone. In the spot where it had been, Trip is waiting for me on his motorcycle. He’s playing with his phone while I approach. There are a few cars here, more than normal. Are they students? Guests? Faculty? Whoever they belong to, I hope the owners don’t come around to see me approaching the young man on the bike.
Trip looks up as I stop a few feet away from him. His dark brows slam together, and his mouth flattens into a disapproving line.
“Where’s my car?” I ask, trying to keep my voice from wavering. I don’t have the energy to be mad. I just want to sleep.
“Not here.”
That much is clear. I bite my bottom lip to keep it from wobbling and drop my face so he can’t see the tears well up.
“What do you want, Trip?”
A helmet is shoved into my hand. I take it reluctantly and step forward.
“Let’s go,” he orders sharply.
It’s not an explanation, but I didn’t really expect one. Trip isn’t the talker of the group. With a heavy sigh, I shove the helmet on and climb onto the back of his bike. As my arms wrap around his waist, Trip pulls out of the parking spot and takes off.
The ride back to their apartment is uneventful. I’m surprised to see my car parked just out front of the fancy building. Since when did they have a key to my car? And when did they move it? I don’t ask. At the moment, I don’t care. Once Trip parks and we climb off his bike, I follow him silently into the building and over to the elevator. Neither of us speak until we stop just outside their door. Trip reaches for the handle but stops before turning it.
