Chapter 2
CHAPTER
TWO
ANNIE
“Slow down,” someone mutters under their breath as I speed walk my way through the library with my head on a swivel. I’m looking for someone, so I don’t slow my steps even though my cheeks heat with embarrassment over being chastised.
I don’t particularly like being corrected. I never really did anything that needed correcting until I started college. Now I seem to be getting everything wrong.
I whisper, “Sorry,” before I’m out of earshot.
I pass three rows of Dewey Decimals before I catch a flash of pitch-black hair turning at the opposite end of the bookshelves. I turn down the next aisle, relieved to not have to cover the entire second floor before catching up with Lainey.
Lainey’s eclectic style is hard to miss. Her pants are quilted bell bottoms made of squares of clashing fabric patterns. Her top is a fitted, neon-green running shirt. The white boots she’s wearing have at least four-inch high soles and are lined at the edges with faux fur. Her left arm jingles with a stack of bangle bracelets almost up to her elbow.
When Lainey first approached me during summer orientation, I wasn’t sure the two of us would mesh as friends. My style has always been pretty understated. I dress like I’m the one that belongs working in a library whereas she dresses like an art student.
Considering how proper Lainey’s mom is, I’m always surprised by the outfits that Lainey gets away with wearing. Lainey’s mom is an anthropology professor, and I secretly wonder if she considers her daughter a bit of a research specimen. I wouldn’t be surprised if her next research topic winds up being modern fashion.
“Hey,” I greet Lainey in a quiet voice so that I don’t risk being chastised again.
She startles, jerking up from studying the book cart she’s dragging alongside her down the aisles of bookshelves. “Oh, hey. I thought you were working today after your morning classes?”
“I had a change of plans. I’m going to make the hours up on Saturday.” I take a couple of deep breaths to brace myself before asking in a single, rushed breath, “How did the interview go?”
“You haven’t heard from your mom yet?” Lainey tilts her head as her eyebrows arch in surprise. “I figured she would have called or texted you as soon as she could.”
Duh, I never turned my phone off silent when I got out of my second morning class. I slip my backpack off my shoulders and hold it while I dig in the front pocket for my phone. Sure enough, there are two text notifications from Mom and eight missed calls all in a row. Considering the average volume of her phone voice, calling her back in a library isn’t safe. I opt to check the messages though.
Months’ worth of tension ease away from my shoulder muscles, letting my posture finally return to normal for the first time since high school graduation.
“Remember the I Love Lucy episode with the chocolates and the conveyor belt? Well, this wasn’t like that at all. Let your new mommy know your old mommy is now gainfully employed!”
If my mom is good at one thing it’s using a joke to death. I send a quick text back letting her know that no new mother has been secured and that I’m proud of her for acing the interview. I genuinely wasn’t sure if she could handle interviewing for such a structured office job.
“Thank you so much, Lainey. I don’t know what we were going to do if your uncle didn’t agree to let my mom come in for an interview.” Now I just have to hope she can survive working for Lainey’s uncle considering he’s a lawyer and she indiscriminately hates lawyers. Lainey swears he’s a good guy though, unlike her other uncle who she loathes and has no relationship with.
“He needs the help,” Lainey reassures me. “And Uncle Luca could use someone like your mom around to loosen him up. He’s forgotten how to have fun ever since he opened up his own practice. They’ll be good for each other.”
“Or they’ll kill each other,” I joke. At least, I hope it’s only a joke.
I need my mom to make this job work. We can’t afford to keep living off my part-time assistant pay. I’m lucky my boyfriend’s dad has been kind enough to let me pick hours up whenever I can. Eventually, I’m worried Cameron’s dad’s goodwill will wear off. It’s not like the Drizzle office needs another assistant floating around. I mostly just do online research for them that I’m pretty sure no one ever reads.
“Well, no way Luca would ever lay his hands on a woman so at least your mom survives in that scenario.” Lainey grimaces. “Although, I can’t imagine you visiting your mom in prison either so let’s stick to hoping they’ll be good for each other.”
“Fair enough.” I nod stoically for a moment before cracking the charade to laugh softly. Part of the reason I feel so comfortable with Lainey is that she shares the same quick sense of humor I grew up with from my mom.
There’s something comforting about being surrounded by snappy dialogue. Like it’s confirmation that everyone else’s brains are racing as fine as mine is all the time too.
“Let’s circle back to that whole thing where you’re now giving up your whole Saturday to Drizzle. What’s up with that?” Lainey leans, making herself comfortable with an elbow perched against the book cart.
I’ve temporarily distracted her from her work-study job shelving returned library books for the college library.
“Professor Parks asked me to come to office hours.” I dread meeting with the intimidating professor but I can hardly disobey his instruction considering he let me slip into class ahead of him.
“A private meeting with a hot professor?” Lainey places her hand over her chest like a scandalized Old Hollywood actress. “That doesn’t sound like the Annie I know.”
Before I can respond to her theatrics, a throat clears behind me. I glance around to see Miss Diane, the library assistant, scowling at Lainey, who responds by standing up straight and showing off all her teeth in a wide smile.
“Miss Diane,” she greets her in a hushed voice with a polite nod. “I was just helping this young lady here who is searching for the Sexual Health section.” Lainey steps closer to me and pats my shoulder, stage-whispering, “Section 618 should help you. And if you need campus resources for what you’re going through, you can?—”
“Thank you so much for your help,” I cut her off as my cheeks heat with mortification.
“It’s my honor.” Lainey clasps her hands to her chest and nods thoughtfully for an uncomfortably long few seconds before she drops her hands to her sides. “Okay, she’s gone.”
“Couldn’t you have picked any other topic?” I ask with a hushed groan in case Miss Diane is still lingering nearby.
Lainey shrugs. “First one that came to mind. Now let’s get back to you having a clandestine meeting with a man easily the most pined over on this entire campus—and I’m including all of the first-string athletes on this list, mind you.”
“There’s nothing clandestine about a professor wanting to tell me face-to-face how disappointing my writing is,” I mutter. “I’m pretty sure he went through an entire red pen just on my paper alone for our first two assignments. How bad does my last paper have to be that he wants to give the feedback in person?”
Worry has been gnawing at me for hours. I barely paid attention in my Psych 101 class after leaving Professor Park’s lecture.
“You know some people would kill for an excuse to meet Professor Parks behind his closed office door.” Lainey’s eyebrows dance as she grins suggestively.
The tall, dark, and handsome professor effect strikes again. “And by some people , you mean you, right?” I ask.
“Definitely. I would kill so many slow-running coeds.” Lainey nods, her smile dropping away with an air of mock seriousness.
I have to consider her words for a minute until I understand the logic.
“You’ve been watching horror movies again,” I realize.
“Shhhh!” Lainey grabs my wrist and tugs me closer. She whispers, “Not so loud. You know my mom could pop up any minute and hear you.”
I flinch at the mere thought of Lainey’s mom popping up. I’ve only met her mother a few brief times since meeting Lainey during summer orientation. Every time she manages to criticize my pop culture references and tell me my mom lets me watch too much television. I’m pretty much terrified of the woman with her sharp bob haircut, tailored pantsuits, and a leather planner permanently attached to her left hand.
“I can’t believe talking about a hot professor is totally fine but you have to be discreet about things like—” I lower my voice to a whisper, “—Saw 4 and Nightmare on Elm Street.”
Lainey shrugs and grabs another stack of books from the return cart. “Such is life.” She hums thoughtfully as she shelves a few before looking over and peering at me over the top of her thick glasses frames. “Seriously, though… I don’t think you have anything to worry about. Professor Parks is pretty infamous for being particular. I’m sure he’ll give you notes on your paper and you’ll be able to nail your next assignment. People might think he’s a jerk but at least he’s a jerk that’s going to help you be a better writer.”
I rub the cold chill that seems to have set in over my arms. I knew college would be harder than high school—where my papers were regularly handed out to my classmates as examples of above-expectation work—but I didn’t expect to fall quite this far.
Lainey is right though. I took Professor Park’s class because everyone says his class is the path to a writing-based career. I wanted him to push me; now I have to face the reality of that wish.
“You’re right,” I tell Lainey.
“I love hearing that. Please, please tell me again.” Lainey pauses putting books away and thrusts her chin up as if to bask in my words.
With a laugh, I repeat emphatically to her, “You are absolutely right.” For good measure, I add, “And you’re a really good friend. Thanks, Lainey.”
“You can thank me by putting in a good word for me with Professor Parks.” She winks with a soft, melodious giggle before returning her focus to her work-study. We both know I wouldn’t dare. I leave in a better mood, though, as I lift my backpack higher on my back and brace myself for the trek halfway across campus. Time to face the English professor.