Chapter 4 #2
I'm almost halfway to Adelaide Uni when I stop at the lights and notice the dark grey Audi sedan in the lane next to me and one car back.
Nice car. One I probably will never be able to afford, not if my chosen field of study continues to be my field of work.
The light turns green, and I'm back to running through my intro-to-me spiel, which I'll no doubt have to give an ungodly number of times today.
When I stop on Botanic Road at another light, the Audi is directly behind me.
In the driver's seat, a guy sits, so tall I can barely make out the top of his head.
But the eyes that stare at me through the windscreen and into my rear-view mirror are instantly recognisable.
Why is Rhys behind me? He left the house before me, sure, but only by a few minutes, and peak hour traffic's worse in Adelaide now than before I moved.
Not too surprising he's heading towards the city.
I realise I have no idea where he even works, I'd made it a rule not to listen when my brother talked about his best friends.
Unless it was business-related, I chose to pretend they didn't exist.
If I had my way, I'd still be sticking by that rule. Especially when it comes to Rhys.
A horn beeps, and I look up to see the light's turned green and the cars in the next lane are already moving.
Did he just honk at me?
When I glance at the rear-view mirror, his hands are still firmly gripping the steering wheel at ten and two, and I'm going to give him the benefit of the doubt that he didn't move them from what he undoubtedly seems to think are government-mandated steering wheel hand positions to beep at me.
At the turn, he's right behind me.
When I veer left, to the road running along the back of Adelaide University, there he is.
I tell myself it's a coincidence. Adelaide is not a large city like Sydney or Melbourne. People can take the same roads to completely different places.
Except...
As I slow down, trying to see if there are any empty parking spots ahead, I expect him to pass me and continue to wherever he spends his work days.
But he doesn't, he slows down as well, maintaining a steady two-car distance between us, until I spot a parking spot ahead.
I speed up and turn into it, only to see him now turning his car into the empty spot right next to me.
What in all the...
Grabbing all my things, I quickly get out and stand next to my car, watching as he unfolds his tall frame out of his fancy clean car, and stops in front of it, leather briefcase in hand. We stand there in the early morning light looking at each other across our respective bonnets.
I wait for him to say something.
But he doesn't.
In fact, now that I actually think about it, he hasn't said a single word directly to me since... since...
Fuck.
I take a deep breath. "Do you... work at the university?"
Rhys frowns, eyes fixing on mine. It's the first time he's held my eye contact for more than a second. It's probably a good thing, because I'm finding it hard to look away.
"Yes," he says, but it sounds more like, "Duh."
Then nothing.
He does not fill the silence. He never does, never did. Silence has always been fine by him. Silence and I, however, have a much more adversarial relationship.
So, instead, I say, "Well, um, you go on ahead, I think I left something in the car."
Rhys finally breaks eye contact and looks down at my hands, which are holding my bag, my phone, my keys, my orientation folder, and my now-empty travel mug.
Then he nods and leaves.
And for a minute, I stand there watching him walk away, and wondering how the hell I managed to get here again.
The HR orientation is in the Napier Building, which I find after only two wrong turns and a brief panic attack, stuck in a locked staircase, where I contemplate staying in there forever rather than face the implications of watching Rhys Pham quietly exit my peripheral vision for the second time in six years.
With help from some friendly students, I find my department head's office. Professor Trent Pollack turns out to be warm, clearly brilliant, and thoroughly distracted by a puzzle his granddaughter gave him for his birthday, and only mildly interested in explaining what he actually expects from me.
After an intermittently helpful ten minutes — him helping me, as well as me helping him with the puzzle — he waves me away.
"Go. Explore. You know where I am now if you have any questions." Though if this first meeting is anything to go on, I'm not sure I'll be looking for him if I require guidance. But I do as he suggests and do some exploring.
The first place I look for is the staff room, where I chat with a few PhD candidates and research associates from the Political Science department.
They're flush with tips, best cheap tea on campus, the good paninis on Rundle Street a block over, and exactly where not to go for a five pm beer unless I want to be swarmed by first years flaunting their new IDs.
It doesn't take long to feel a camaraderie with some of them, and twenty minutes in, I make a lunch date with a small group who suggest we walk over to the Art Gallery for a quick bite since it's such a nice day.
For the first time in a long time, I start to feel like I don't need to be a visitor in my home town.
My orientation sheet says Hub Central for my one p.m. meeting with the People and Culture department. What that is, I have no idea.
The building's easy enough to find; however, the office itself takes three trips up and down an unmarked corridor. Phone says 1:08pm. Dammit. I hate being late.
But before I knock, I take a moment catching my breath. Being late is one thing. Sweaty and on the brink of an asthma attack is not exactly the image I want to be portraying either.
I look around, taking three deep breaths, my eyes catching on the nameplate on the closed door.
No.
No. No. No. No. No.
R. Pham — Employee Counsellor.
I read it again.
I read it a third time.
I close my eyes.
Say a little prayer and then open my eyes.
The name is unchanged.
Well, if I ever needed any evidence that the universe hates me, this would be it in flashing neon lights.
I touch my forehead gently to the door, mumbling, "You've got to be freaking kidding me."
Before I can pull back and possibly make a run for it, the world tilts under me.
I stumble forward and pitch through the now open doorway. I scramble, grabbing at empty air and fall face and boobs first, finding myself suddenly sprawled out on the carpeted floor.
"Oooofffff, earthquake!!!" I announce, and dip my fingertips into the carpet pile as though it might keep me anchored to the earth, squeezing my eyes shut, wondering if I should've listened to the late night infomercials about how it's never too early to have written your will.
When I realise that the earth has settled, I take a deep breath of relief and flip over onto my back, finding my eyes staring up into a pair of almost black ones.
He either has nerves of steel or Adelaide has way more earthquakes than I remember and he's used to being knocked to his feet.
"Oh. Er. Hi," I say, clearing my throat. "You okay?"
He stares down at me for another moment and then sighs.
"You're late," Rhys says, and closes the door.