By Tuesday night Rebecca’s hand was mended—her heart, however, was a different story. She hadn’t seen him since Saturday night, and although she had managed to convince herself it was to be expected, she hadn’t managed to convince herself it was okay.
So, the wings on her feet crashed her into her Psychology chair fifteen minutes early on the off-chance that they would be early and she would have the undeniable privilege of hearing his voice again. The angels, she knew, wouldn’t sound as sweet.
The pen in her hand doodled across the page. Eric and Rebecca. Rebecca and Eric. Hearts and flowers. It was all she could see when she thought of him. When that page was full, she turned the page and had just started the scribbling intently when she heard the voice that echoed continually in her head coming from the door, down the aisle, right to the seats behind her.
“No, man, I didn’t blow you off,” Eric said as he approached her desk. “I had a lot of stuff to get done.”
“Like what? More studying?” spike-haired guy asked as she felt Eric take the seat behind hers.
“Is that so hard to believe?”
“From you? Yeah.” Spike-haired guy laughed in a way that made Rebecca want to turn around and knock his head off his shoulders. How dare he make fun of Eric.
“I needed to meet with Diane,” Eric said defensively. “She was going to help me with sign language.”
“At ten o’clock on a Saturday night?” spike-haired guy asked.
“It was the only time she could meet.”
Rebecca’s eyes narrowed in confusion. Saturday night?
“Well, the party was just getting started. You could’ve invited her over.”
“We studied at the Student Union it was quieter there.”
Saturday night he was playing pool—alone, Rebecca’s head said as she listened.
“Sign language?” spike-headed guy asked as if that was akin to cleaning cesspools.
“Well, what time did she go home?”
Clinging to every word, Rebecca pressed back against the chair, waiting to hear the answer.
“About 11:15. The place was a madhouse.”
“I thought you said it was quieter.”
“Oh, yeah. Well…”
Rebecca heard the stumble.
“It was, but then a ton of people showed up, so we decided to pack it in for the night.”
“Uh-huh,” spike-haired guy said. “And where did you go after that?”
“She went home, and I went home.” Eric’s story paused. “I know. Wonderful night, but she’s not my type anyway. She’s all interested in her studies. Glasses, books, notebooks—you know the type. Not the kind of girl I’m looking for.”
Unconsciously Rebecca pushed her glasses up as her heart dropped.
“Yeah,” spike-haired guy said. “Seems like I remember that.”
Mr. Templeton walked in down front, but Rebecca’s attention never wavered from the seat behind her. Eric was obviously lying. Yes, he was at the Student Union, but there was no girl. Was there? Fighting with her brain to recall every last detail of the non-encounter, Rebecca examined the clock in her mind. Although she couldn’t clearly remember the time they had left, it was 11:25 when she and Holly got back to their room.
How far was it from the Student Union to her dorm? Five minutes? Ten? But even so, his line about studying the rest of the time was totally bogus. And although she knew she should be paying attention to the lecture down front, one thought kept working its way into her brain. Why was he lying?