“Yeah, they’ll really come running.’” Still, he backed up enough to let Claire twist away from him, clutching her mocha. He wasn’t even looking at her. He was a big guy—Shane-big—with black gelled hair in the latest cool style and fierce blue eyes. A nice face, good lips, high cheekbones. Altogether too pretty for his own good, Claire thought. “Get me my damn coffee. Some of us have class around here.’”
Claire grabbed paper towels and began mopping up the spill on the customer side of the counter, so Eve didn’t have to come around. Eve gave her a grateful look and began to pull shots. She assembled the drink in record time, slapped the top on it, and handed it to her tormentor.
Who grinned at her, tasted it, and put it back on the counter. “Sucks,’” he said. “Keep it.’”
He high-fived with his friends, and they all walked away.
“What a jerk!’” Claire said, and Eve just raised her eyebrows, took the latte, and poured it out down the sink.
“No, he was right, it did suck,’” she said. “But then, he paid three bucks for it, so I win. How’s the mocha?’”
Claire swallowed a mouthful and gave her a thumbs-up. “I’m sorry. I wish there was something—’”
“Gotta fight our own battles, Claire Bear. Go on. I’m sure you’ve got some kind of studying to do.’”
Claire backed away as Eve began to pull another set of drinks; the line continued to queue up in front of the register.
The guy picking up his latte next—a tall, kind of awkward-looking boy with a round face and big brown eyes—made a point of thanking Eve, who dimpled at him and winked. He looked much nicer than the hard-bodied jerks who’d just left, although Claire noticed that he was wearing a fraternity shirt.
“Epsilon Epsilon Kappa?’” she read out loud. “EEK?’”
He gave her an apologetic smile. “Yeah, well, it’s kind of a joke. Because of the town. You know, creepy.’” He blinked and focused on her, and smiled wider. “I’m Ian, by the way. Ian Jameson. From, ah, Reno.’”
“You’re a long way from home, Ian Jameson,’” Claire said, and stuck out her hand. He shook it. “Claire Danvers. From Longview.’”
“I’d say you were a short way from home, but everything’s far from this place,’” he said. “So, you’re—a freshman?’”
“Yes.’” She felt the dreaded blush creeping up again. “Early admission.’”
“Yeah? How early?’”
She tried to shrug it off. “Couple of semesters. No biggie.’”
“What’s your major?’” Ian took the top off his coffee and blew on it to cool it down, then took a sip. “Thanks again, by the way, this is really good.’”
“No problem,’” Eve said. She sounded much more cheerful now, and gave the sorority girls their skinny-half-caff-no-sugar lattes with a sunny, slightly manic grin.
Nobody had actually bothered to ask Claire what her major was before. Of course, it was customary for a freshman to change three or four times before settling on something, but Claire had always been pretty definite. “Physics.’”
“Really?’” Ian blinked. “Wow. That’s pretty intense. You must be good at math.’”
She shrugged. “I guess.’” Modesty in action; she’d never failed to land an A, ever.
“Gonna transfer out of here, I suppose. I mean, a degree in physics from Nowhere U isn’t going to do you all that much good, right?’”
“I’m hoping for MIT,’” Claire said. “What about you?’”
Ian shook his head. “CE. Civil engineering. Yeah, I’ve got to take physics, but no way would I volunteer to take more. And I’ve got one more semester. Then I transfer out to UT Austin.’”
A lot of students transferred out to the University of Texas; it was a major school for just about everything. Claire nodded. She’d considered it herself, but…MIT? Caltech? If she had a chance, she’d take it.
“So…what’s EEK? A professional fraternity?’” Because there were some on campus; you paid your dues and went to some meetings and put it on your résumé later.
“It’s a bunch of guys who like to party, really.’” Ian looked embarrassed. “I’m in it because I’ve got a couple of friends…anyway, they do throw this really cool party every year—it’s a big bash. It’s called the Dead Girls’ Dance. All zombie-freaky scary-movie stuff.’” He glanced over at Eve, who was steaming milk. “Your friend there would fit right in as is. Most people wear costumes, though.’”
Was he asking her out? No, he couldn’t be. For one thing, she’d just met him. For another…well, nobody ever asked her out. It just didn’t happen.
“It sounds neat,’” Claire said, and thought, I just used the word neat in a conversation with a cute boy, and I should walk away now and shoot myself.
“It’s at the EEK frat house tomorrow night. Listen, if you give me your number, I can text you the details….’”
“Um…sure.’” Nobody had ever asked before. She stumbled over the digits; he keyed it into his cell phone and smiled at her. A nice smile. A really nice smile, actually. “Um, I don’t know if I can come, though.’”
“Well, if you can, you’d save my life. We geeks have to stick together while everybody else goes nuts, right? See you there tomorrow night at eight?’”
“Right,’” she echoed. “Um…sure. I’ll be there. Thanks. Um, Ian, right?’”
“Ian.’”
“Claire,’” she said, and pointed at herself. “Oh. Did I already say that?’”
He laughed and walked away, sipping his latte.
It was only when he did that she realized she’d just agreed to go out on a date. An actual date. With a boy who was not Shane. How had that happened? She’d meant only to be nice, because he seemed like an okay guy, and then he’d been all charming, especially by comparison with the other guys….
She had a date.
With a boy who was not Shane.
Not good.
“Hey,’” Eve said, and motioned her closer. “So, what was that? Is he giving you a hard time or what?’”
“Ummm….’” Claire’s mind went blank. “No. He just—never mind.’”
Eve’s eyes turned from concerned to shrewd. “He hitting on you?’”
Claire settled for a shrug. She had no idea how to tell, actually. “I think he was just being nice.’”
“Guys aren’t nice,’” Eve said. “What did you tell him you’d do?’”
Okay, that was scary, how quickly she’d nailed it. Claire shifted her weight uncomfortably, and fiddled with her heavy backpack. “Maybe I said I might go to this party. But it totally wasn’t a date.’”
“Oh, totally not,’” Eve agreed. And rolled her eyes. “Next up! Vanilla latte!…which totally describes you, by the way.’”
“I’ll, um, be over there,’” Claire said. “Studying.’”
Eve might have wanted to stop her, but the drinks kept coming, and Claire was able to fade away and go in search of her study table. Which, miraculously, was still unoccupied. She thunked down her backpack on the battered wood and sat, sipping her mocha. The UC seemed safer than most places in Morganville…. Anyplace packed with people reading couldn’t be that bad.
Almost like a real university.
Claire was reading ahead in her history text when a shadow fell over the page. She looked up and saw a girl she slightly knew from her old dorm, Howard Hall—a freshman, like herself. Lisa? Lesley? Something like that.
“Hey,’” the girl said. Claire nodded toward the empty chair opposite her, but Lisa/Lesley didn’t sit. “That Goth at the coffee bar, the one who used to work at Common Grounds—is she your friend?’”
Word got around fast. Claire nodded again.
“Might want to keep her from getting herself killed, then,’” Lisa/Lesley said. “’Cause she’s just pulled the pin from the Monica grenade over at the counter.’”
Claire winced and closed her book. She checked her watch; well, it was probably close to time to leave for class anyway. It was bad, and shallow, but she wished that Lisa Lesley had decided not to do her good deed of the day. It would have been nice to leave without another crisis.