Fragmented (25 page)

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Raleigh and I sat in the library where the books lived, reviewing course readings and working on papers that would soon be due. I was so focused on the information in my textbook, I was sure I’d misheard her.

“Huh?”

“I really want to kiss you,” she repeated.

I glanced up from my book to discover Raleigh’s intense gaze focused on me. “What? Here? Right now?” I looked around the stacks to see if anyone had overheard her, but we were probably the only people on the entire floor.

“No. Follow me.”

I didn’t know what she was up to, but she spoke with such confidence and direction that I had no choice but to follow her. We navigated our way through the labyrinth of bookshelves. I didn’t know our purpose or destination until she came to a stop in front of a closed door.

She pressed a button on the wall and the door to the handicapped bathroom swung open.

The room was more than large enough for the both of us, and because it was a separate room, not conjoined with the main bathroom, there was no fear of anyone seeing or overhearing us. It was about as private of a place as you’d find on campus.

“We don’t have much time,” she said. “Your friends will be wondering where you are.”

“Wait,” I stopped her. “You expect me to be able to have a normal lunch with my friends after …” I couldn’t finish the sentence because I honestly didn’t know what she had in mind.

“After I make you cum?” She smiled and batted her long eyelashes.

I’d had partners talk far dirtier to me, but for some reason hearing those words come out of that mouth had my knees wobbling. But the strong scent of cleaning fluids had me backing out. “I can’t.”

Her bottom lip popped out. “Why not?”

“I don’t need rose petals on a bedspread or scented candles,” I explained, “but sex in a public bathroom doesn’t do it for me.” The automated door slowly shut on its own.

Raleigh covered her face with her hands and made a noise. “You must think I’m some sex-obsessed weirdo. Can’t get through the day without my fix.”

“You made it through yesterday,” I unhelpfully pointed out.

“Yeah, but if Sasha hadn’t been there, I probably would have jumped you in front of the bonobos.”

I grabbed her hands and pulled them away from her flushed face. “Stop it. You’re fine. I’m just being a prude.”

“No,” she shook her head. “You’re being level-headed and sensible.”

“Fuck,” I groaned. “That’s so not hot.”

Her lips curled up on one side. “I happen to think you’re very sexy,” she husked. “You never know; maybe color-coded notes turn me on.”

“Oh, really?” My eyebrows rose. “Well, if that’s the case, just wait until you see the size of my notecard pile.”

She fanned herself. “Oh, mercy,” she drawled exaggeratedly in a southern twang that would have made my southern ancestors proud. “I don’t stand a chance against your charms, Miss Harper Lee.”

Not thinking or overanalyzing for once in my life, I swooped low and pressed my lips against hers. We never did make it to lunch.
It had become overcast while we’d lingered in the library. The sky was grey and, depending on if the temperature continued to drop, we’d probably see the first snow of the season later that day. What few trees there were in the city were barren. It had been a cold, soggy fall with little patience for fall colors. It would only get colder from this point on until the spring thaw in many months.

I held the door open for Raleigh as we left the library.

“Are you off to pick up Sasha?” she asked.

“Mmhm. In a little bit. Is your aunt picking you up right now?”

“Uh huh,” she confirmed. “So I guess I’ll see you tomorrow in class.”

I bit my lower lip and nodded. It was going to be a long night; if I made it through the evening without at least texting her it would be a miracle.

She grabbed the strap of my messenger bag where it cross-crossed across my chest and tugged until I was bent over and we were face to face. “In case you were worried, I’m U-Hauling, too.”

“Good.”

She kissed me, more chaste than I would have preferred, but it was all I could handle right now. Anything more and I’d be hustling us to the closest semi-private location.

With her in my direct line of sight, it was easy to block out all the noise and distractions. But when our lips disconnected and Raleigh disappeared in the direction of the circle driveway to wait for her aunt, my surroundings came rushing back. I once again became aware of the conversations of students on their way to their next class and the barely perceptible rumble of the L in the distance—a constant noise wherever you were in the city.

As I stood outside of the library, I noticed a man in a dark blue suit who wore sunglasses even though it was overcast and had grown increasingly darker as the afternoon wore on. Everyone around him was a decade younger and wore jeans and sweatshirts. Even the professors weren’t as tailored as he.

I was so distracted by his out-of-place presence that I didn’t notice Kelley and Maia’s approach.

“Hey, Harper,” Maia greeted.

I tore my eyes away from the man in the navy blue suit. “Oh, hey. I didn’t see you guys.”

“We’ve missed you at lunch the past few days,” Kelley noted. “Where have you been?”

“Yeah, sorry. I’ve had some homework to catch up on between classes.” It wasn’t a complete lie. Raleigh and I had been in the library that day, and books had been involved.

I glanced back in the direction of the man in the dark suit. He was talking on his phone and leaning against the
Nuclear Energy
sculpture in the small quadrangle just outside the library. It used to wig me out that the main university library stood on the grounds that had been the world’s first artificial nuclear reactor as part of the Manhattan Project. My freshman year I’d spent as little time as necessary in the building like I was afraid the books might start glowing with radiation.

“How was your weekend?” Kelley asked, drawing my attention back to her.

One of the best of my life.
“It was good. How was yours?”

“My parents took Max and me to see some esoteric improv show up in Andersonville.”

“Sounds fun.”

“What are you doing this weekend?” Maia asked.

Hopefully spending every free moment with Raleigh.
“I’m not sure yet.”

“We should get the gang together and hang out before the semester gets too busy,” Maia proposed.

“I can see if Raleigh can make it, too,” Kelley added. “She seems cool.”

“She is,” I confirmed. “We’ve been spending a lot of time together lately.” I sucked in a deep breath. I was pretty anxious to say anything about Raleigh to Maia knowing that she’d had a crush on her at the beginning of the semester. Had I broken the Bro Code by pursuing Raleigh? “We, uh, we’re kind of dating.”

“Holy shit,” Maia exclaimed. “How long has this been going on? I didn’t even know she was gay.”

“We had our first date on Saturday.”

“That’s adorable,” Kelley gushed. “I want all the details.”

I cleared my throat, uncomfortable with the added attention. “Maybe some other time. I should probably get going or I’ll be late picking Sasha up from school.”

“Oh, right. Sorry. I’ll text you about the weekend,” Kelley said. “And congrats on the Raleigh thing.” She winked at me. “She seems like a catch.”

We said our goodbyes, and I began to walk in the direction of the 55 Bus. Despite my earlier misgivings, it felt surprisingly good to be open with my friends about my private life. My mistake with Jenn had been keeping her all to myself. I didn’t want to make that same mistake twice.

My thoughts were occupied with my recent conversation with Kelley and Maia, but not so much that I didn’t notice that the man in the blue suit had ended his phone call and was now steps behind me.

He turned where I turned, and when I stopped and pretended to retie a loosened shoelace, he kept his distance. I tried to push it out of my mind as nothing more than a coincidence. Plenty of people took the 55 Bus, I told myself. It was a main boulevard in the city that went as far west as Midway Airport. But this man had no luggage, and something about him had me spooked.

I quickened my step as I approached the university’s athletic field. I didn’t want to break out into a full run, but I lengthened my stride to pick up the pace. I could see the football team walking out of the athletic building in the direction of the field for afternoon practice. I glanced behind me to see the man in the blue suit still a few yards behind. I turned on my heel through the main gated entrance of Stagg Field.

I ducked around the corner of the brick fieldhouse and flattened myself against a wall. The man walked past me at a brisk pace. His sunglasses were gone now, and his head twisted back and forth, scanning the area. I held my breath as he walked past me, and I waited until he was several yards away. I clutched the nylon strap of my school bag and started running in the direction from which I’d come, back in the direction of 55th Street.

“Wait, please! Miss Dawkins!” I heard the man yell out.

Would a stalker sound so polite?
I wondered, but I ignored his command and kept running in the direction of the bus stop. To my horror, there was no bus waiting when I reached the intersection. In between the bus stop and the Green Line was a large park, but I’d seen enough scary movies with Raleigh to know that I shouldn’t run into the woods with a man chasing me.

“Miss Dawkins!” the man called again, quickly closing the distance between us.

I had a choice—I could keep running, or I could confront the man. I decided to take a chance, emboldened by the presence of other people at the bus stop.

“What do you want?” I snarled. “Stalking is against the law, you know.”

The man’s eyes widened at my accusation. “No, I wasn’t.” He held up his hands in retreat. “My employer has been looking for you.”

“Who’s your employer?”

I flinched when he reached into the inner liner of his suit jacket. He produced a business card instead of a weapon and held it out for me. I took it from him and rubbed my thumb over the expensive paper stock.

“Alan Belair, Esquire. Family and Estate Lawyer,” I read aloud. I looked up questioningly. “What is this about?”

He shrugged. “That much I don’t know. You’ll need to call Mr. Belair for more details.”

The 55 Bus arrived moments later, and we parted ways. I had to pick up Sasha shortly, and he had other business to attend to. Once on the bus, I pulled out the business card and inspected the information. I couldn’t imagine what a lawyer would want to talk to me about, but I was about to find out.

+ + +

Alan Belair’s office was located in a high-rise building in the South Loop. It had a nice view of Lake Michigan, which I admired from my chair while the family estate lawyer shuffled papers around on his desk in preparation of our meeting.

After some deliberation, I decided to meet up with the man who apparently had been searching for me for some time. The information on his business card had looked legit, and when I’d experimentally called the listed number, the receptionist had sounded real, too, before I’d hung up on her.

“How much do you remember about your father, Ms. Dawkins?”

The question took me by surprise. “Nothing, really. I was little when he left us.”

A part of me had always thought my unplanned birth was the reason he’d abandoned us. I was sure my mother’s impending illness had a part in my father’s departure, but the added stress of a young child who was similarly fated would have been too much to deal with. Now that I was older, I couldn’t be angry with him for leaving us. Put in his position, I’d have had a hard time not doing the same.

“Did he ever try to contact you after he moved out?”

“I used to get birthday cards from him, but I’m not sure if my mom was the one who’d sent them so I wouldn’t feel so abandoned.” The cards had stopped when my mother had been hospitalized. But I’d also moved in with my mom’s brother and his wife, and if the cards had really been from him, my dad would have had no way of knowing my address had changed.