Chapter 31
If he’s there then I’ll ask him. If he’s not there then I’ll just forget about the whole thing.
That’s the bargain I make in my head as I climb the stairs to the Quad News office.
I’ll leave it up to fate to decide. It’s not up to me!
It’s up to fate! I don’t care either way obviously.
I’m just doing a good deed, returning the favour, making up for the fact that I didn’t properly thank him last time, after the drink-spiking situation.
And now once again he has come to my rescue, so I can’t let it pass by again unthanked.
That’s not scary, it’s not a big deal. It’s nothing.
Just asking Laurie if I can take him out for something to eat sometime.
Just casual, like. Because while I’m in the danger zone of developing and/or cultivating a crush on Laurie, I’m not, like, there yet.
So it’s all fine. All under control. Don’t care either way.
The fact that I don’t care either way is probably why I stop outside the Quad News office and reapply my lipstick, making sure my cupid’s bow is looking extra-sharp, the line of my lips extra-defined.
I look myself over in the little compact mirror I carry around with me, fluff up my candy-floss hair, take a deep breath and knock on the door. I half expect no one to answer, but –
I push the door open and am immediately greeted by three faces turned to look at me.
One is a guy I know to be Josh Levy, the investigations editor of Quad News; another is, mercifully, Laurie, and the third is Charlotte Sherman, seated very close to Laurie.
Josh Levy I could deal with, but the presence of Charlotte has thrown me right off course.
‘Um . . .’ I say, feeling like I’ve been pushed out onto a stage under a glaring spotlight in front of a huge audience with no idea of what I’m meant to be performing.
‘I was just looking for . . .’ I try to think of a random name of someone from Quad News that I could feasibly have business with, and can only summon up the names of three Quad people, which are Josh Levy, Charlotte Sherman and Laurie O’Donnell.
What was Lucie’s ex-boyfriend called, the sports editor guy?
But then again, why would I be looking for him.
Shit. I just stare at them for a moment, wondering why I hadn’t actually planned for this potential situation.
It’s because I’m too bloody optimistic, isn’t it?
This is my problem! Every time! ‘Sarah Al-Aziz!’ I say triumphantly, remembering the name of the girl who takes their photos around campus.
Why wouldn’t I be looking for Sarah Al-Aziz?
‘She’s not around at the moment – I think she’s got a lecture now. Were you meant to be meeting her?’ Josh asks politely, pushing his dark-framed glasses up his nose.
‘No . . .’ I say vaguely. ‘Just wanted to ask her about . . . cameras,’ I say, knowing my eyes are darting around wildly like a trapped animal but the whole time I’m avoiding letting them land on Laurie’s face.
‘Not to worry! I’m sure I’ll run into her somewhere around campus!
’ I say, pulling the door closed behind me and extricating myself from the situation as fast as I can.
Well, that was a mistake! You live and learn! Time to get out of here and erase it from my memory.
But I barely make it to the end of the corridor when the door opens.
‘Mary-Elizabeth,’ Laurie says, and I can’t help turning back. ‘How’s your foot doing?’
‘Oh! It’s much better, thanks to your expert medical care! No need to go to the medical centre!’
‘Great,’ he says, nodding, his dark eyes staying on me like a laser beam. ‘Not to . . . dispute your version of events, but were you really looking for Sarah?’
‘Are you trying to tell me I’m not very good at improv?’ I ask, feeling my cheeks warm up.
‘It could do with some workshopping.’
‘Well, the thing is, I just wanted to talk to you about something, but . . . it’s not important,’ I say, shaking my head. Why am I making such a mess of this? I’m usually very smooth and in control! Not a bumbling idiot!
‘What . . . what was it you wanted to talk about?’ he asks me.
I look up at him, swallow down my nerves. ‘I wanted to ask if you would be OK with having dinner with me sometime. To say . . . to say thank you for all the nice things you’ve done for me.’
‘You don’t need to do that,’ he says instantly, his tone a little gruff.
‘I don’t think I need to do anything. It’s more that I . . . want to.’
‘Well, then,’ he says, before clearing his throat, his gaze locked with mine. ‘I suppose it would be rude not to, wouldn’t it?’
‘I think so. And we know you’re never rude.’ I can’t help smiling, and my brain is already trying to figure out what to wear. ‘Are you free tomorrow night? Or maybe that’s too soon,’ I say, blushing at my keenness. ‘You’re probably busy.’
‘Not busy,’ he replies quickly.
‘Oh, great!’ The relief in my voice is audible, and I want to keep the conversation going so we can establish a plan and then I can get out of there. ‘So, how about we meet at Da Antonio at the top of Charlotte Street at seven-thirty?’
He nods. ‘I know where that is – it was near my halls in first year.’
‘But you haven’t eaten there?’ He shakes his head. ‘I think you’ll like it,’ I say, and then I twitch my nose in thought. ‘I don’t know why I think you’ll like it . . . I don’t really know you at all . . . maybe you’ll hate it . . . but it’s very convivial. That’s what my stepdad always calls it.’
‘Sounds perfect.’
When I walk through the quad to the bus stop, I break into an involuntary little skip for a moment.
I can’t quite believe it, but I’m actually a bit excited!
OK, so I know I said I wasn’t there yet, but I am now forced to admit that I might be there now.
But that’s all right, isn’t it? I can keep everything under control, can’t I?
I need to remember that I’m Mary-Elizabeth Baxter, and I can do anything I put my mind to.