She gave me a single, frustrated frown. Then she darted into her room and shut the door again.
If Lianne had picked any other day this year to be nice to me, I would have responded differently. But it was going to take a little more than coffee to extract me from the privacy of my room.
I wrote an apologetic email to the grad student who led my psych seminar and stayed home.
As soon as I settled on my bed again, my phone rang to the tune of “The Saints Go Marching In.” And as soon as I heard that little tune, I realized I’d made an error of epic proportions.
“Oh shit,” I said to the walls of my room. I answered the phone anyway, because ducking my own fuck-ups wasn’t my style. “Hi Mom,” I said.
“Bella, your sister—”
“I know. I’m sorry. I’ve been frantic, and it totally slipped my mind.” That was sure true. “I’ll call her immediately.”
My mother’s sigh was loud. “You’ve offended her, sweetie. The grant and the award are very important to her. How busy could you be?”
Well, the total implosion of my life has been surprisingly consuming. “I’ll call right now. But you have to let me hang up with you.”
“Don’t you dare forget the banquet.”
Shit! The fucking banquet. “I won’t forget.”
“I’ll see you then, sweetie.”
“Yes, you will.”
“Call your sister,” she couldn’t resist saying once more.
“Doing it now!” I hung up and inspected my ceiling again. But the task could not be avoided, so I dialed my sister.
And, lo! God smiled down and gave me her voicemail, which meant I could say my piece without groveling in real time. I opened with, “I’m so sorry,” and then I followed up with enthusiastic congratulations, followed by more apologies.
“That should do it,” I said to nobody, throwing the phone down and rolling toward the wall. I recommenced my hibernation.
But the world would not be ignored.
Rafe showed up next, and he was not so easily shaken off as Lianne. “Bella,” he said, knocking. “Open up.”
I decided opening the door would be the quicker method of ducking him. Seeing as I’d brushed my hair and made my bed, he might not call the authorities.
When I opened the door, he walked in wearing running clothes. He had a pair of those spandex compression shorts sticking out from underneath his running shorts, which somehow managed to highlight how muscular his thighs were. Rawr. The boy was practically edible.
Or rather, he would be, if I were still into men. Which I wasn’t.
“It’s time for our run,” he said, as if we were running buddies.
“I don’t run,” I reminded him.
“Sure you do. I’ve seen you. First we run, then we go to class.”
Lovely. He thought he had me all schooled up. “And what if I don’t?”
“Same threat applies today.”
God! You bossy…! I wanted to scream. “Look. I’m fine. And you can’t keep blackmailing me like this.”
“Funny.” He chuckled. “Hanging out with you is not the effortless payoff that blackmail implies. But I will tell someone if I think you’re not okay. And if you leave the building with me, then I know you’re all right.”
“You could just take my word for it.”
“Not happening, chica.”
With a curse, I got up to find some running clothes.
We jogged a little farther than last time. By the time we arrived panting at our entryway door again, I was tremendously impressed with myself. But I sure wasn’t about to admit it to Rafe.
He looked at his watch. “You’ve got twenty minutes to get cleaned up for class. I’ll knock on your door.”
“I’ll just meet you there,” I tried, climbing the stairs slowly. My legs were shaky from exertion.
Rafe just shook his head. “We go together, Bella. I’m not falling for that.”
Christ.
I took the world’s fastest shower and then hopped into my nicest jeans and a fancier sweater than I’d usually wear to class. As if that mattered. As if anyone in the lecture hall would look at me and decide I wasn’t actually a filthy slut because I was wearing a cashmere sweater from Bergdorf’s that matched my eyes.
Rafe was maddeningly prompt, of course. When he knocked on my door, I followed him downstairs and outside. The closer we got to the lecture hall, though, the more my feet dragged on the flagstones. Urban Studies was a big lecture with at least sixty people in it. I did not want to sit there and wonder how many of them had seen my picture.