Unspoken(17)

Students passed me by and still nothing. Not a sideways glance, not a smirk, not a whisper behind a hand to a companion. By the time we had reached the Bookstore, I felt nearly serene and not a little chagrined. I should have braved the masses last semester. A summer away from Central had probably dimmed my reputation in everyone’s memory. What a self-important asshole I was, thinking that I was so important that people were still talking about me. I gave a half laugh and Ellie turned to me with a lifted eyebrow. “Sorry,” I said, “just swallowed wrong.”

Ellie nodded and looked toward the door, trying to keep an eye on the crowd streaming through entrance of the café while not being obvious about it. I didn’t know who I was looking for despite her exhaustive description earlier.

A loud group came in, commanding everyone’s attention. It was a group of guys barking loudly to one another, like a flock of geese. At the light in Ellie’s eyes, I knew that her new man was in this group. Showtime.

We waited another ten minutes in the store, pretending to admire the variety of sweatshirts, T-shirts, and sleep pants adorned with one big C on them. When we judged that the boisterous man crew had made their way through the cashier, we went and gathered our food. Salad bar for both of us because that was the only fresh food served in the café, that and deli sandwiches. Anything else and you were just asking for a bout of food poisoning.

Exiting the cash line, I stood with my tray in hand while Ellie surveyed the crowd, trying to find exactly the right table where we could sit and observe and maybe even eavesdrop on the table that held the object of her crush.

She started forward and then stopped and I nearly dumped the contents of my tray on her back. I followed her gaze to a table in the center of the room filled with guys wearing their trucker caps backward, mid-calf socks, and Flow Society shorts even in winter. The lacrosse team. Or laxers, as they liked to call themselves.

The hottie from Rocks for Jocks was a lacrosse player. Ellie turned and looked at me with dismay, and I briefly closed my eyes in silent supplication, praying that the team would not look at us. I abruptly walked to a table as far away as I could get.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t know he was a lacrosse player,” Ellie whispered as we settled into our seats. I barely heard her because I was too busy internally debating the safest way to sit. Should I position myself so I could see them coming or with my back to them? I compromised and sat at an angle from their table, making myself the smallest target possible. The giant salad I’d assembled looked like the least appetizing bowl of food ever. I moved my fork around, pushing the cherry tomatoes to the side and rearranging the mushrooms into an ordered pattern, one slice lying next to the other in a circle around the bowl. I was so intent on repositioning my food, I missed the signs of an approaching classmate.

“Hey, uh, aren’t you in my geology class?” I heard a voice slightly above me say. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see the lacrosse table laughing behind their hands and some were not so furtively pointing in our direction.

Ellie looked at the object of her crush with contempt and gave him a short, no-nonsense answer. “Yes.” It was not an invitation to start a conversation. This must be some kind of hazing, although I thought that started at the beginning of school, not halfway through the semester. Why else would this poor kid be forced over to our table to start up a conversation?

I kept my head down and averted, which I knew was rude, but I didn’t want to be here and definitely did not want to participate. Two months into college, I’d had my fill of lacrosse guys. I didn’t need to make the acquaintance of any more.

Ellie’s dismissive answer didn’t drive the freshman away. Instead, he pulled out a chair, flipped it around, and sat down so he could lean his arms on the back. “Thought I recognized you. I’m Ryan Collins.” He held out his hand to Ellie. She stared at it like it was diseased. He held it out for a couple of beats and then awkwardly brought his hand down to his side, to wipe it on his pants.

No one spoke a word. Ellie stared at Ryan with hostility and Ryan returned the look with puzzlement. Maybe he didn’t mean to come over and make some rude come-on. Maybe he really did mean to introduce himself to Ellie.

I felt reluctant admiration for this guy who was bucking normal rules of engagement and putting himself out there for public rejection, in front of his teammates and other classmates. I knew what it felt like to be the subject of unwanted scrutiny. Almost against my will, I spoke up. “Nice to meet you.” My voice sounded raspy, as if it hadn’t been used for a week. I cleared my throat. “I’m AnnMarie and that’s Ellie.”