“Here you go.” She held out the kitten for Hannah.
He had to concentrate to swallow. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.”
Seconds passed. Her face was like porcelain, fair and smooth. The light skin a contrast to her dark hair and eyes. There was something different about her, beautifully and slightly exotically different, like a special doll high on Hannah’s shelf. It was impossible to look away.
“Oh, here.” She took the cup and pens from his hand, stuffed them into his outer backpack pocket, and zipped it up. “There.” She gave the bag a pat. “Now you won’t lose your stuff.”
Even her voice was different, but he only got another second to take her in, because with one more quick smile, she turned and walked away.
He remained rooted to the spot, barely noticing the hallway jam he was causing, wishing he’d said more. Not so long ago, he would have been all over that, would have gone for any girl that interested him. He had a million lines and a playful charm when he chose to use it. But now? Still reeling from his parents’ death and becoming more father than brother overnight, he didn’t exactly have the same game.
What was he going to say? “Hey, want to color? Want to come over later and watch Sesame Street while I try to study chemistry, do laundry, and make sure my seventeen-year-old brother isn’t out getting arrested and the twins have a ride home from football practice?” He shook his head and started walking. Nick Walker, the antiparty.
Two days later, he caught sight of that dark hair up ahead. Unmistakable, it hung long and straight down her back, not in a ponytail or messy bun. She wasn’t dressed like the typical college coed, either, somewhere between pajamas and gym clothes. In khakis and a short-sleeved blouse, she looked more like a teacher’s assistant than a student, though he wouldn’t have put her a day over eighteen. She stopped to fill her water bottle at a fountain, allowing him to catch up.
“Hey.”
She turned those dark eyes on him in surprise. “Hey.” Then she smiled easily at his sister. “Hi, there. What’s your name?”
He waited a beat then answered. “Her name’s Hannah.”
“Hi, Hannah.”
His sister stared silently, interested in this new person. So was he.
“She’s precious.”
“Thank you.” He knew she assumed Hannah was his daughter, but since she didn’t outright ask, it felt wrong to say it. Like denying Jesus three times or something.
She started walking and he fell in step beside her. When they reached the double glass doors, he held one open and followed her out into the sunshine. They took a few more steps then paused awkwardly like people do when they’re not sure where the other person is going but knowing wherever it is, they want to go there too. “We’re headed outside.”
“We’re actually already there,” she said, then eased his idiocy with a quick smile bright enough to scramble his brain.
“Outside,” Hannah repeated.
“I’m Mia.”
“Nick.” He held out his hand, happy to take her small fingers in his even if shaking hands wasn’t the typical college meet and greet.
Hannah shocked him by leaning away, arms out. “Mia.”
“Oh, you are sweet,” Mia said, taking her, situating Hannah on her hip.
With his hands free, he stuffed them in his pockets and watched the two of them study each other. Hannah lifted a few strands of Mia’s hair, let it slide over the back of her hand, then did it again.
“I usually sit out here between classes on Monday, Wednesday, Friday, and have lunch. We do. Sit here. If you want to sit with us.”
“Sure,” Mia said easily, as if they did this every day, while he could barely string a sentence together and his heart hammered in his chest.
This was ridiculous. Yeah, he’d been on social hiatus for a while, but he’d had no idea he could lose all skill.
They walked to the Knoll, a grassy hill that ran the length of a wide, brick-paved walkway. The sun was hot and bright in early September, and he pulled his shades up from the lanyard that hung around his neck. Two girls and a guy tossed a Frisbee. Small tables with club sign-ups attracted groups of milling students.
They reached the hill, and he made the three-foot step up to the brick wall. Turning, he offered her a hand up and wrapped his other around her slender upper arm. And there was that smile again.
He sat, and she lowered herself to the ground, sitting cross-legged beside him.
“I like your dress,” she told Hannah.
“It’s wewo.”
“Yes, it is. And I love yellow. It’s bright and happy like the sun, huh?” Mia settled Hannah in her lap and began untying her tennis shoes.