Chapter 2 #3
I sighed, glancing briefly up at the ceiling.
‘It’s Zoe. She’s so sweet and … good. And that just doesn’t mix well with a hot, self-absorbed guy who thinks the whole world revolves around him.
’ I hesitated, picking out more watercress to avoid meeting Davie’s sharp scrutiny.
‘Plus, you know when you just see someone and immediately know they’re bad news? ’
‘Sure.’ Davie nodded earnestly. ‘I think they call that being prejudiced.’
I rolled my eyes in mock you-got-me-there exasperation and threw my napkin at him. Davie caught it and tucked it into his shirt pocket before he gave me an encouraging smile.
‘Look, don’t worry about Zoe. Only the other day I saw her tearing a strip off some kid who tried to jump the queue at the coffee cart. That guy will never be the same again, trust me. That woman can take care of herself.’
‘You’re telling me.’ Zoe didn’t need protecting.
If she felt like she was being treated unfairly, she was more than capable of standing up for herself.
If anybody else had done what Ashton did yesterday, Zoe would already have kicked him to the kerb, but she obviously found something about him so alluring that she couldn’t stay away.
I wrestled my face into a smile. ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to rant at you.’
Davie waved it off. ‘That’s what friends are for.’ Reaching a hand into his bag, he put a small box on the desk in front of me. ‘And for this, of course.’
I caught a whiff of the sugary smell before I’d even opened the cardboard flaps.
Chocolate cake from Bridget’s, the outrageously expensive bakery near St John’s College.
The cake for which I’d gladly go hungry for two days, and which I couldn’t really afford.
One miniscule slice cost my weekly coffee budget at the dining hall.
‘God, you really are perfect, Davie Waverly!’ I reached for the fork in the box. One bite and my mood lifted, my smile became more genuine. As a general rule I didn’t like gifts that I couldn’t afford myself, but for this I made an exception. The taste was worth swallowing my pride.
Davie watched with satisfaction as I divided the cake into tiny pieces in reverent silence, allowing each bite to slowly dissolve on my tongue.
‘Anyway, let’s talk about something more pleasant. What’s new in the world of Cambridge?’ I put the fork down, leaving half the slice for later.
Davie folded his arms behind his head. ‘Are you sitting down?’ he began in a low, dramatic voice. ‘Because the law-school café is switching to a different catering company.’
I clutched at my heart. ‘Say it ain’t so.’
‘Yep. Apparently some faulty refrigerators resulted in a teensy tiny outbreak of salmonella.’
‘Well, it’s a good thing we eat lunch on this hallowed ground instead of stooping to the level of the café.’ I made a sweeping gesture that encompassed the hodgepodge of papers littering Davie’s desk.
He raised his hands defensively. ‘Hey: one word from you and I’ll bust out the tealights, give you a full-on candlelit dinner.’
I laughed and batted the idea away. ‘Thanks, but I’m just fine. Besides, I think it might be a fire hazard, what with this giant mountain of paper.’ Curious, I leant forward to read the label of the topmost file. It was so thick that the clip had popped open. ‘What is all this, anyway?’
Davie casually slid another folder on top, covering the label. ‘Research.’
I tried to catch his eye. Suddenly his face was wary. ‘That’s a lot of research for an article about the law-school café.’
‘I’m a conscientious journalist.’ Davie scrunched up the paper bag and tossed it at the bin next to the desk, missing narrowly. He didn’t go and pick it up. Part of me was sure he didn’t want to leave me alone with the files.
Which only made me more curious. Davie wasn’t usually secretive about his articles. In fact, he normally liked to talk about them at length, giving me several rough drafts to read. This was weird. And I’d always been a sucker for weird.
‘And a terrible liar. What is it really?’
He said nothing. Outside, the clouds had drawn in again, casting a dove-grey light through the window and dropping a soft filter between us.
The heap of paper had taken on a bluish glow, and something in Davie’s eyes flashed silver.
I knew that look: an ominous mixture of anticipation, nerves and emotional strain.
‘What are you up to, Davie?’
He sighed, then leant in closer and lowered his voice. ‘Okay, fine. I’m working on a new story. Something really big.’
‘Sounds intriguing.’ My heart began to thud, and I shifted to the edge of my seat. The excitement in Davie’s voice was contagious.
He nodded, leaning back again. ‘It is.’
‘Now you’re really making me curious.’ I tried again to reach for the file, but Davie was too quick. He grabbed my hand and squeezed it, smiling at me apologetically. ‘Leave it. It’s all pretty vague, and … that’s all I can say about it at the moment.’
‘Even to me?’
His smile softened, and he stroked the back of my hand with his thumb. ‘Especially to you.’
As I gazed down at our fingers, I felt a slight flush of self-consciousness.
Davie and I were friends, so inevitably we ended up touching sometimes – no big deal – but in moments like this, I understood what Zoe meant when she raised her eyebrows suggestively after seeing me with Davie and whispered, ‘Uh-oh.’ I didn’t know exactly what this thing was between us, but I knew I didn’t want to find out.
Davie was the best male friend I’d ever had, and I wasn’t going to let anything change that.
Not that I had the time for a relationship anyway.
Pretending to pout, I drew back my hand and reached for my bag. ‘Fine. Whatever you say. Guess I’ll leave you to work in peace, then.’
‘As soon as it’s ready to print, you’ll be the first to read it,’ he promised, with an anxious grin.
I tried to shake it off, and opened my mouth to reply when my phone buzzed. Skimming the message, I groaned.
‘What is it?’ asked Davie with concern.
‘Zoe.’ I dropped the phone into my coat pocket. ‘Ashton’s invited her to some sort of thing with his friends again. She wants me to come too.’
‘Was it really that bad last time?’
I hesitated. Until about an hour ago I would have said the evening was mixed but not exactly bad.
Despite the circumstances, the moment I’d shared in that strange room with that strange man had been somehow beautiful.
Special. Memorable. But now that I knew ‘Cliff’ had been a mirage, I was even more impatient to put it all behind me.
‘It was just kind of weird. Those people are … I’m not sure what the word is.
Elitist? Snooty? Like something out of a horror movie? ’
‘Again, all I’m hearing are your preconceptions,’ said Davie. And in some ways he was right, of course.
I poked my tongue out at him anyway and flounced over to the door. ‘You’d get it if you’d been there too. They made you give a password to get in, Davie. And it wasn’t like ‘apple punch’ or some other corny bullshit, it was Sturnus vulgaris.’
I heard Davie exhale sharply. When I turned around, he was on his feet. ‘As in … starlings?’
I raised my eyebrows, impressed. If even Davie – who knew absolutely nothing about nature or animals – had heard the name before, then I must have a gap in my knowledge. ‘Did you switch to natural sciences or something?’ I asked, amused.
He didn’t return my smile. ‘Zoe’s boyfriend. What’s his full name?’
I frowned, trying to recall. ‘Ashton Griffin, I think. But why–’ I broke off when my phone buzzed again.
This time it was my alarm, reminding me that the next seminar was about to start.
I’d have to get a move on. Quickly I switched it off and shot Davie an apologetic smile.
He was still staring at me blankly. ‘Guess I’d better run.
Thanks for the cake and the conversation. Text you later, yeah?’
It wasn’t until I’d left the building that I realised I’d left the half-eaten cake behind. And that Davie never said goodbye.