Chapter Eleven
Danielle Spencer clenched her jaw as she gazed out her office window onto the campus courtyard, a cup of tepid coffee in one hand and her computer mouse in the other.
The enamel in her front molars was nearly worn away, ground flat by decades of stress grinding, a fact that her dentist scolded her for again and again.
She couldn’t help it; life was tough, and there was a lot for her to be nervous about.
It was a bright summer day in the middle of August, and the tedious task of gearing back up for her fall semester at the Florida Film Academy was well underway.
Her mind wandered as she stared out the window and a long-repressed fear wedged into her heart.
A broad-shouldered person loomed behind a shrub of palmetto brush near the entrance to the Arts and Sciences building.
The hulking silhouette was unmoving and ominous, hidden in the shade of the slash pines that surrounded her small private college.
Her pulse thrummed in her ears as she let out a shuddered breath, her gaze unmoving on the shadowy figure.
Even twenty-five years later and more than two thousand miles away, Dani still couldn’t shake the thought that Matt Vickers was waiting and watching around every corner.
“Hey, wanna get some lunch?”
Dani gasped and nearly dropped her coffee as she tore her gaze from the window. Jessica, her fellow FFA professor, stood in the doorway with her purse over her shoulder and a guilty expression painted on her face.
“Sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“That’s okay.” Dani tucked a chin-length strand of dark hair behind her ear and held a hand to her chest. Her heart beat wildly against her palm as she forced a smile for her friend. “Yeah, I guess I could use a break.”
“Jumpy today,” Jessica said. “Too much coffee?”
“Always.” Dani glanced back out onto the courtyard as she grabbed her purse.
The figure she had been staring at stepped into the sunlight and Dani was able to let out a sigh of relief.
It had only been a new student, burdened with an arm full of textbooks and a confused expression on his face. It wasn’t Him.
“They’ve got these excellent brioche croutons at the salad bar now,” Jessica said, her eyes wide and sparkling with lunchtime anticipation. “I hope they didn’t run out of ranch dressing again.”
“Did you get your final roster of students?” Dani slowed her stride to keep in step with her friend. Jessica was the same height as she was, but Dani was always one step ahead of everyone. Always trying to get ahead. Always running.
“Yeah,” Jessica said. “They overloaded me, just like I figured they would. What about you?”
“Same.”
“I should just put my money where my mouth is and finally quit,” Jessica snorted.
“I only have to suck it up for a little while longer,” Dani said, unable to mask her smile. “I think this might be my last year teaching.”
“No! Really? How?”
“Aunt Lisa is retiring. She wants me to go with her and help start up the campground at her property up in the mountains.”
“Oh right, the survival training thing!” Jessica nodded. “That’s going to be so good for you both.”
“It is,” Dani said. “I’m ready for something else. Twenty years of teaching is more than enough for me. I’m ready to throw my laptop in the lake and unplug from society for good.”
“But what about your screenplay? You’re still going to write though, right?”
Dani shrugged. “Maybe. I don’t have the same enthusiasm as I used to. I’m ready to spend some time out in nature doing something other than grading papers and moping over missed opportunities.”
“Speaking of missed opportunities …” Jessica dug an elbow into Dani’s ribcage as they rounded the corner toward the cafeteria. Ethan Baker, the new film history instructor, stood at the end of the salad bar with a pair of tongs in one hand and an empty plate in the other.
Dani groaned and gave Jessica a sideways glare. “No.”
“Come on! He’s cute,” Jessica whined. “Please talk to him. I have been married for way too long. I need to live vicariously through you.”
“Jess, you know—”
“I know. You’re not into dating and especially at work. Fine,” Jessica whispered, her voice a hiss as they neared the salad bar. “But he’s smiling at you, and I suddenly need to go pee.”
“Jess!” Dani gawked as her friend scooted toward the bathroom, leaving her alone at the salad bar. She grabbed a plate, her cheeks burned as she piled her salad high with romaine, cucumbers and tomatoes.
“Hi.” Ethan turned his body toward hers and his entire face lit up in a smile.
He was middle-aged like her with more reddish blond hair on his chin than the top of his head and a personality brimming with boyish charm.
Ethan had written and directed a film that won Best Picture at The Southeastern Film Festival four years earlier; a dark, moody piece about a man who stared at a radio and listened to static.
Dani didn’t care much for the film, but she had grown to admire Ethan from a distance over the past few weeks thanks to his seemingly upbeat, golden retriever-like attitude.
“Hi. Ready for the semester to begin?” Dani cringed. Why did small talk have to always be so obvious?
“Yep, yep,” he said, still smiling. “You?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be.” Her cheeks flamed as she reached for the croutons. Jessica was right. They did look pretty good.
“Are you, uh, going to Wingz that in fact, Matt was the victim, and Dani the heartless female who led him on.
Even though she moved across the country and changed her name, seeing the posts gain traction still made Dani uneasy.
Free Matt!
Justice for Vickers (strong arm emoji)
Kincaid Lied And Should Be in Prison: How the Liberal Media Fooled You
Dani shut her laptop and stared out the window.
She knew that keyboard warriors couldn’t hurt her, but the thought that one of them may find her some day was always at the back of her mind.
The woods surrounding the campus were thick with palmetto fronds and beautyberry bushes, acres and acres of untouched Florida scrub landscape amongst a canopy of ancient oaks.
A good place for anyone to hide. Something shadowy skittered at the corner of her vision, disturbing a pile of dry brush, and her heart clenched.
She closed her eyes and took in a slow, centering breath.
“There’s no one out there,” she reminded herself. “Just birds and squirrels and trees.”
She exhaled and opened her eyes. The shadows still stared back.
“Fuck this.”
Dani stood from her desk, walked to the windows and drew the shade.
She still had a lot of work to finish before the end of the day, and she couldn’t afford to spend the rest of the day looking over her shoulder or obsessing about the past. Always scanning the horizon for danger.
If anyone was going to hide in the shadows, it was going to be her.