ignores the hand.
“This guy yourboyfriend ?” he demands of me, rudely.
“Gavin,” I say, mortified. I can’t look anywhere in the vicinity of Cooper’s face. “No. You know perfectly well he’s not my boyfriend.”
Gavin seems to relax a little. “Oh, that’s right,” he said. “You like those pretty-boy types. Jordan Cartwright. Mr. Easy Street.”
Cooper has dropped his hand. He is staring at Gavin with an expression of mingled amusement and derision. “Well, Heather,” he says. “Delightful as it’s been meeting one of your infant charges, I think I’ll be going now.”
“Hey!” Gavin looks insulted. “Who you calling an infant?”
Cooper barely acknowledges Gavin’s presence, saying only, “I’ll see you at home,” to me, with a wink, then turning to leave.
“‘See you at home’?” Gavin is staring daggers at Cooper’s departing back. “You guys live together? I thought you said he wasn’t your boyfriend!”
“He’s my landlord,” I say. “And he’s right. Youare an infant. Ready to go? Or do you want to stop by the liquor store on the way back to the hall so you can buy a bottle of Jäger-meister and finish off the job?”
“Woman,” Gavin says, shaking his head, “why you gots to be that way? Always up in my business?”
“Gavin.” I’m rolling my eyes. “Seriously. I’ll call your parents….”
He drops the gangbanger act at once.
“Don’t,” he says, the goatee drooping. “My mom’ll kill me.”
I sigh and take his arm. “Come on, then. Let’s get you home, before it starts snowing. Did you get a note from the doctor, to excuse you from class?”
He scowls. “They won’t give notes for alcohol poisoning.”
“Poor baby,” I say cheerfully. “Maybe this will teach you a lesson.”
“Woman,” Gavin explodes again, “I don’t need you to tell me how to act!”
And we walk out into the cold together, bickering like a brother and sister. At least,I think that’s how we sound.
Page 34
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Conv erter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
Little do I know Gavin thinks something entirely different.
5
My poor heart cracks
Like broken glass
Breathing’s hard
Starting to cough
This must end
It’s got to stop
Does anyone know how
To turn this Stairmaster off?
“At the Gym”
Written by Heather Wells
The rest of the day does not exactly fly by. It’s amazing, in fact, how slowly time can pass when all you want to do is go home.
At least, when I get back to Fischer Hall from the hospital, the deed has been done—Lindsay’s family has been notified of her death…which means it’s okay for us to start telling the building staff and residents about what happened to her.
But this, as I’d suspected, does not exactly make things any better. Reactions upon being told the truth—that the cafeteria is closed because of the discovery of a cheerleader’s severed head there, and not a gas leak—vary from stunned astonishment to giggling, crying, and even some gagging.
But it isn’t like we can keep the truth from them…especially when it hits the local all-news television station, New York One, which Tina, the student desk worker, very conscientiously runs to come tell us when she sees it on the television set in the lobby, then turns up as high as she can when we hurry to join her:
“The New York College campus was shocked today by a gruesome discovery at one of their dormitories, Fischer Residence Hall,” the news anchorperson says, in an urgent voice, as behind him flashes a shot of the exterior of Fischer Hall, New York College banners fluttering in the wind from twin poles over the front door—at which we’ve posted extra security, to keep out thrill-seekers and the press, who are all clustered in the chess circle across the street, annoying the die-hard chess fans who’ve braved the cold to come out and play.
“Some may recall last fall’s slayings of two young women in this very same
“This guy yourboyfriend ?” he demands of me, rudely.
“Gavin,” I say, mortified. I can’t look anywhere in the vicinity of Cooper’s face. “No. You know perfectly well he’s not my boyfriend.”
Gavin seems to relax a little. “Oh, that’s right,” he said. “You like those pretty-boy types. Jordan Cartwright. Mr. Easy Street.”
Cooper has dropped his hand. He is staring at Gavin with an expression of mingled amusement and derision. “Well, Heather,” he says. “Delightful as it’s been meeting one of your infant charges, I think I’ll be going now.”
“Hey!” Gavin looks insulted. “Who you calling an infant?”
Cooper barely acknowledges Gavin’s presence, saying only, “I’ll see you at home,” to me, with a wink, then turning to leave.
“‘See you at home’?” Gavin is staring daggers at Cooper’s departing back. “You guys live together? I thought you said he wasn’t your boyfriend!”
“He’s my landlord,” I say. “And he’s right. Youare an infant. Ready to go? Or do you want to stop by the liquor store on the way back to the hall so you can buy a bottle of Jäger-meister and finish off the job?”
“Woman,” Gavin says, shaking his head, “why you gots to be that way? Always up in my business?”
“Gavin.” I’m rolling my eyes. “Seriously. I’ll call your parents….”
He drops the gangbanger act at once.
“Don’t,” he says, the goatee drooping. “My mom’ll kill me.”
I sigh and take his arm. “Come on, then. Let’s get you home, before it starts snowing. Did you get a note from the doctor, to excuse you from class?”
He scowls. “They won’t give notes for alcohol poisoning.”
“Poor baby,” I say cheerfully. “Maybe this will teach you a lesson.”
“Woman,” Gavin explodes again, “I don’t need you to tell me how to act!”
And we walk out into the cold together, bickering like a brother and sister. At least,I think that’s how we sound.
Page 34
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Conv erter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
Little do I know Gavin thinks something entirely different.
5
My poor heart cracks
Like broken glass
Breathing’s hard
Starting to cough
This must end
It’s got to stop
Does anyone know how
To turn this Stairmaster off?
“At the Gym”
Written by Heather Wells
The rest of the day does not exactly fly by. It’s amazing, in fact, how slowly time can pass when all you want to do is go home.
At least, when I get back to Fischer Hall from the hospital, the deed has been done—Lindsay’s family has been notified of her death…which means it’s okay for us to start telling the building staff and residents about what happened to her.
But this, as I’d suspected, does not exactly make things any better. Reactions upon being told the truth—that the cafeteria is closed because of the discovery of a cheerleader’s severed head there, and not a gas leak—vary from stunned astonishment to giggling, crying, and even some gagging.
But it isn’t like we can keep the truth from them…especially when it hits the local all-news television station, New York One, which Tina, the student desk worker, very conscientiously runs to come tell us when she sees it on the television set in the lobby, then turns up as high as she can when we hurry to join her:
“The New York College campus was shocked today by a gruesome discovery at one of their dormitories, Fischer Residence Hall,” the news anchorperson says, in an urgent voice, as behind him flashes a shot of the exterior of Fischer Hall, New York College banners fluttering in the wind from twin poles over the front door—at which we’ve posted extra security, to keep out thrill-seekers and the press, who are all clustered in the chess circle across the street, annoying the die-hard chess fans who’ve braved the cold to come out and play.
“Some may recall last fall’s slayings of two young women in this very same
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