"Why is that?"
"Do you really want to get into it right now?"
He laughed quietly under his breath. "Probably not." He eyed the phone again. "No Linkin Park?" I shook my head. "Tim McGraw?" I made a face. "Justin Bieber?" I dropped my chin, gazing at him through my lashes. "How about Long Kiss Goodnight?"
My heart gave one hard, painful thud then seemed to stop cold. "Now?" I gasped, choking on the single syllable. "We probably shouldn't, I mean … we-"
"Oh, uh no," he said. "That's the name of a band. Long Kiss Goodnight."
"Oh. Yeah. I know." Good grief. Pull it together, woman.
Henry was quiet for a moment, then snagged my phone. "Give me this thing," he said, standing up. "You'll get it back in the morning with a new playlist. Allow me to educate you."
Without another word, he walked to my bedroom, returned a few seconds later with my laptop under an arm, stepped over me, and disappeared into his room.
Chapter 14
"Ms. Honeycutt?"
The back of my head whacked against the wall when I jumped. I opened my eyes and blinked a few times, dragging my mind to the present, focusing on Masen's face sticking out his office door.
"Come in," he said.
I tore out my ear buds-the sweet sounds of a new-to-me Maroon 5 song still running through my head. Was it any wonder my mind had drifted?
After a deep inhale and swallow, I eased myself to my feet, prepared to focus on the most important meeting of my college career.
This was our first appointment since he'd rejected my outline rewrite back in October. Since then, I'd worked like crazy. After a while, I could see what he was getting at when he'd broached the subject of the new angle. Now, my theory had a depth and richness that had been missing before. Potential.
I hated to admit it, but Henry's help and insight had kind of made all the difference. In fact, I wouldn't be where I was without him. After Thanksgiving, it wasn't as though we were miraculously eye-to-eye-we still didn't agree on key issues-but it was like the distrust and tension were gone. Another kind of tension had taken its place, however. And I could never really look at him without tasting the tang of cran-
"Take a seat."
I jumped again, then lowered myself into an old leather chair across from my professor's messy desk. He had a hard copy of my new outline in one hand and was rubbing his chin with the other. We were apparently skipping conventional pleasantries, because Masen dropped my paper on his desk and jabbed a finger right in the middle.
I gripped the arms of the chair, bracing myself for bad news.
"Better," he said.
I breathed and unclenched my balled-up toes. "Thanks."
"I'm impressed that you took my advice. I wasn't sure you would about something like this."
"No," I said, "you were right. I needed a new perspective."
"It needs work but I definitely think you're on the right track." He passed my paper across the desk. "I made a few notes."
A few? The thing looks like a rainbow threw up on it.
"But I really like this part." He drew a circle around section three.
"You do?" I said with a smile, still feeling so relieved that I wanted to stretch across the desk and kiss him. Kiss anyone! Who can I kiss?
"Tell me." He leaned back in his chair. "Who have you been working with on this?"
My throat went dry, thinking of exactly who I wanted to kiss.
I tried very hard to stay in the present, to concentrate on Masen's words for the next half hour, but even when we were done and I was back at the library, my mind kept hopelessly drifting, drifting, drifting …
"Hey."
I jerked my gaze from my notebook to find Mel staring down at me.
"What are you doodling?" She walked around the table to take a better look. "Is that argyle?"
I stared at my paper. It was indeed a cluster of argyle diamonds. "No, it's, uhh." I quickly scribbled over the sketch. "Pizza."
"Pizza?" She examined the doddle again. "Wow. You really suck at drawing."
"Right?" I laughed, closing my notebook. "I guess I'm hungry."
"Well, then, let's chow."
"I can't," I said, dragging over my laptop. "I've got a paper due and two tests to cram for. I'll be here all night."
Mel pulled at the back of my chair. "You have to eat, babe. Come on. We'll hop over to your place and I'll cook for you. How does that sound?"
She didn't have to threaten bodily harm to convince me to get out for a while, to eat something solid before I pulled an all-night study session. She wasn't the best chef in the world, but the thought of someone cooking for me did sound incredibly comforting.
After not much of a fight, I allowed her to lead me home.
…
"And it's also a maturing experience," I said. "I'm learning a lot about myself and the world around me."
"Watch out for the car!" Mel yelled.
I froze in place, one foot hanging off the curb as a pickup made a tight turn around the corner. After it passed, Mel grabbed me by the arm and yanked me back. "Pay attention to where you're walking," she said. "You're in La-La Land."
"I'm not in La-La Land," I defended. "I was just-"
"You were just talking about Henry Knightly."
Was I? I thought I was talking about school.
"So?" I said defensively, zipping up my coat, suddenly regretting being dragged from the library.
"So, I haven't seen you for two weeks." She dug through her book bag, her hand resurfacing with a tube of pink lip gloss. "I want to hear about you." She applied the shiny tint to her lips.
"I am telling you about me."
"Oh?" she blinked and dropped the gloss in her bag. "Oh," she repeated with an accompanying nod. "Okay. Continue. But without stepping into traffic, please. You were saying it's a maturing experience to hang out with Henry."
"Yeah," I said, trying hard to remember where my earlier train of thought had been headed. "That's how I'm looking at it," I added, dipping one foot off the curb. Mel narrowed her eyes at my daredevilness.
"Last I heard, you were about to jump off the Golden Gate because he was the only person willing to help with your thesis." She linked her arm through mine and pulled me to the middle of the sidewalk as we walked toward my house.
"That's still true."
"But you're spending all this time with him."
"It's called research."
Mel's expression bent in confusion in the gathering twilight. "I thought you hated the guy."
"I never said that."
She thought for a moment, biting her lip. "Are you still fighting?"
"We disagree but we don't fight." I paused, considering if this was wholly truthful. "Not anymore. We kind of made an agreement about that. We're more productive now."
A blue BMW drove toward us. It slowed, and Julia waved from the passenger side, Dart behind the wheel. All shiny teeth and shiny hair, they were a commercial for Old Navy. He honked the horn; Mel and I waved back.
"Disagreeing with Henry is natural. We're so different," I continued, then laughed at just how understated that was. "You know me, and you know how Henry is."
"Not really," she said. "I don't know him. Not as well as you do."
I rolled my eyes, ignoring her vocal inflection.
Mel stopped walking to dig through her bag again, swearing impatiently under her breath. "I know I have a Kit Kat in here somewhere."
"Chocolate before dinner? How unlike you."
"Better than a cigarette," she grumbled. "I quit smoking last week. Ah-ha!" She pulled out a candy bar and held it up like the Olympic torch.
"You quit smoking? When exactly did you start?"
Mel tore open the candy bar wrapper with her teeth. "The week before that."
I laughed. "Anything to get you off the dreaded cocoa bean."
"It's a vicious cycle," she said, taking a big bite, eyes closed, sugar being absorbed into her blood stream, endorphins all abuzz. The candy bar was gone in approximately three bites. She wadded up the empty wrapper then grabbed her phone. "Tyler's calling again."
"Ah." I smiled. "The elusive summer boyfriend in Washington. When will I get to meet him?"
"I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that." She shot me a withering glance. "I've been inviting you up to my grandparents' house for ten years. Just say the word and we'll go." She smiled down at her phone and texted something. "What I wouldn't do for seven minutes in heaven with Tyler right now."