said. “Are you okay?” I
gently pushed her back and dropped my hand from her shoulder. The
other fell from her backpack a second later, and I folded the map I
was still holding, then slipped it into my back pocket.
She hoisted the bag back onto her shoulder
and looked up at me. Her eyes were a warm, earthy brown like the
clay soil that lined the banks of the creek back home and rimmed
with thick lashes a lighter shade of auburn than her hair. They
flashed with an undeniable spark of intelligence, and I worried for
a second she might see through me.
“I’m fine,” she said, blinking at me.
“Sorry,” I said again.
“It’s cool,” the blonde said. She flashed a
bleached white grin. “She doesn’t mind, do you, Spence?”
Spencer still blinked up at me, her lips
parted slightly. “It’s fine,” she managed.
“Hopefully, next time we run
into each other, we won’t actually run into each other.” I didn’t miss the color that
bloomed in her cheeks when I smiled at her.
“Yep.” She nodded and linked her arm through
her friend’s. “Come on, Kay, we’re going to be late.”
Spencer tugged on the girl’s arm, but the
blonde locked her knees like a stubborn mare. “I’m Kay, and this is
Spencer. Who are you?”
Straight to the point. I liked that in a
woman. “Shane Casey.” I gave the name from the fake ID Pop had
supplied me with before I’d left the Village.
“Nice to meet you, Shane,” Kay said. Her eyes
glinted, and she elbowed Spencer in the ribs.
“Nice to meet you,” Spencer mumbled.
“The pleasure’s all mine.”
“That’s some accent you’ve got,” Kay said.
“It’s like Brooklyn-by-way-of-Georgia. Are you new here?”
I laughed. “I transferred from Loyola.”
“In Chicago?” Kay asked.
“No, Loyola New Orleans.” I’d worked on
different accents on the bus ride up and finally settled on a
Lakeside drawl. Most of my high school classmates had been from the
affluent area across Lake Pontchartrain, so it was one I could pull
off without much trouble.
“Yeah.” Kay wagged a finger at me. “You sound
like that singer guy. Harry What’s-His-Name.”
“Harry Connick, Jr.” Spencer rolled her eyes.
“Seriously, Kay. I need to go. Moira isn’t going to wait
forever.”
“I’ve been dying to go to Mardi Gras. Is it
awesome? I bet it’s awesome,” Kay said, clearly unconcerned with
wasting Moira’s time.
“It’s a blast,” I said. “You should
definitely go if you get the chance.”
“Okay, well, this is super-interesting, but
unfortunately, we have somewhere to be.” Spencer tugged her
friend’s arm again.
“Yeah, of course,” I said, not wanting to
burn the one bridge I needed to cross. “I won’t keep you any
longer. It was nice to meet you, though.” I tipped my head to Kay.
“Both of you,” I added, smiling at Spencer in a way I hoped made
clear that she’d been my favorite part of the introduction.
She swallowed hard and tugged on Kay’s arm
one last time. Finally, the girl obliged, and I stepped aside to
let them pass. Kay leaned in to whisper something, and Spencer
shook her head.
I waited, counting under my
breath. One…two…three… Spencer turned her head and looked back at me over her
shoulder. When I waved, she quickly turned back and picked up her
pace, dragging Kay along with her.
I walked in the opposite direction. When I
was sure there was enough distance between the girls and me, I
reached into my pocket again to pull out the map. I carefully
unfolded it and couldn’t help but grin at the red plastic rectangle
in my hand. I turned it over and pressed the button on its top
edge. Spencer and a small group of her sorority sisters smiled back
at me from the cell phone’s screen.
CHAPTER TEN
CHEERFUL CELTIC MUSIC greeted me at the open
door of the OIA house. I’d assumed OIA stood for Omicron Iota
Alpha, but after a little digging, I’d learned this sorority wasn’t
Greek or even affiliated with a national
Sarah Woodbury
June Ahern
John Wilson
Steven R. Schirripa
Anne Rainey
L. Alison Heller
M. Sembera
Sydney Addae
S. M. Lynn
Janet Woods