Connor tapped his pencil. He scratched his wrist. He pushed his hair behind his ear, and tapped his pencil again.
Something was not right, and for once he actually knew what it was. Him. Somehow, knowing wasn't as reassuring as he'd thought it would be.
A spot between his shoulderblades itched and his leg muscles felt strangely tight, as if they were begging to be used.
He tapped his pencil again, and pretended to take notes. What class was this, anyway? He looked at the book on his desk: Henry James. Was it Thursday already?
The girl in front of him was talking. "When the cell undergoes meiosis, the state of its environment can greatly affect..." Not English class, then. He reached out and picked up Daisy Miller from the desk and slipped it back in his bag as unobtrusively as possible.
..o0O0o..
"Man, what was up with you in there?" Hopkins' shoulder collided with his on their way out of the classroom.
"Just a little out of it, I guess."
In the hallway, they were joined by another guy, his hair rumpled as though he'd rolled out of bed and right into class. "Late night, Reilly? We almost lost you there."
Hopkins jumped to his defense. "This coming from you, Griffiths? Mr. Sleeps-Through-Class himself?"
"Hey, if I noticed it you know it's bad." Griffiths swung a brotherly arm around Connor's shoulders. "Let me tell you a little something about discretion, pledge..."
Hopkins laughed loudly at this and even Connor choked out a chuckle. They walked across campus, heading for the fraternity house and lunch. Connor was happy to stay quiet and let the others talk -- his head still felt clouded with other thoughts.
After a macaroni and cheese lunch that he barely tasted and a conversation that he hardly remembered, Connor picked up his backpack. One of the other pledges, Gonzo, was waiting for him by the door. Connor shook his head as he approached.
"I'm gonna have to skip out on psych today, man." Griffiths' earlier suggestion was convenient, so he used it. "Late night last night -- I gotta sleep it off."
Gonzo grinned and nodded. "We've all been there. I'll get you the notes."
Connor thanked him and headed up the hill to his dorm. He had no intention of sleeping, but he did want to drop off his books.
The dorm was a big building, covered in rough white stucco and topped off with red tile. There was a broad flight of four steps leading up to the main entrance, where people liked to sit and smoke cigarettes at night. When Connor approached, they were empty except for one girl, talking on a cell phone and drinking a diet soda. From her tone of voice, it was obvious that she was talking to her boyfriend. Connor walked quickly up the wheelchair ramp at the edge of the stairs, trying to act like he couldn't hear her conversation, and waved his student ID card across the electronic access pad at the doorway.
Inside, there was a large lobby with battered couches and a few potted plants. Through an open door, he could hear the quiet sounds of pool balls colliding. One whole wall was taken up with a bulletin board, covered with notices of club meetings and frat parties, Chinese delivery menus and sociology studies looking for participants. And there, right in the middle of a thousand other things, was a glossy flier with photos of crowded piazzas, marble statues, and a large, airy museum. SUMMER ABROAD IN ROME, it said. Be a part of it! His attention captured, Connor turned and looked at the flier. There would be a meeting for interested participants that night, it said.
He pulled out the thumbtack and took the flier with him. Rome. That sounded good. Anywhere would be better than here, anyway.
..o0O0o..
They sat down to dinner and Buffy dug in to the pasta that Dawn had made, chewing enthusiastically. Dawn held her fork suspended in midair, and drew in a deep breath before asking her question.
"I was thinking about getting a job for the summer," she said cautiously.
Buffy looked up, her mouth full of pasta. "Ra rob?" she asked, sounding remarkably like a talking cartoon dog.
With difficulty, she swallowed and looked up at Dawn with narrowed eyes. "What kind of job? Nothing demony, I hope."
Dawn smiled at the protective tone in her sister's voice. "No, thanks. I get enough of the demony at home." She'd expected this exact objection from Buffy, so it was easy to deflect. "I was thinking of something demon-free, actually. Like... a tour guide."
"Tour guide?" Buffy seemed to be considering the idea, which was a step in the right direction as far as Dawn was concerned. "What about--"
"I'll still be able to keep up with everything Giles needs," Dawn assured her, before she could even formulate the whole sentence. "He doesn't need me that often, and this would just be part time anyway." That was the second objection that Dawn had been anticipating-- time for slayer-related stuff. But that was her whole list. Buffy still looked unsure, and Dawn didn't know what else to expect.
"You'll still have time for--" Buffy began, then bit her lip. Dawn couldn't think of the last time she'd seen her take-charge sister looking so hesitant. "I mean, you can do what you want to-- should do what you want to, but what about our girl time?" She finally got the last words out in a rush, looking down at her pasta.
Dawn let out a deep breath she didn't realize she'd been holding and jumped up from her seat to give her sister a hug.
"Of course we'll still have girl time," she said. "It'll be very part-time, you can catch up on your sleep while I'm gone after those late-night patrols, and besides--" this was her last, best argument for Buffy-- "It'll be something non-vamp related for me to put on my resume."
Buffy smiled happily up at her at this suggestion, and Dawn felt a twinge of guilt for using her sister's weak spot like this, but it was for a good cause.
Buffy was the Chosen One, and so she'd never had a choice of her own-- fighting evil was her one and only career path. She was bound and determined that her sister would not be forced into the same kind of life. She wanted Dawn to have the options she'd never get.
Dawn knew that -- more than that, she understood it clearly every time she looked into her sister's face. But she couldn't help it. She'd been a part of the fight for years already-- truth be told, it was as long as she'd been on the planet-- and she wasn't about to back out of it now, no matter how much her sister wanted her to live a "normal life."
After dinner, Dawn retreated to her bedroom. Outside the sun had just set and the sky was fading to purple. A crescent moon was visible through the window, above the rooftops of the city. Dawn sat down at her desk and pulled two forms from the drawer. One was an application to an American tour company -- the job she'd told Buffy about. The other was an application to access the personal libraries of the Società Quinquatria, which were rumored to contain demonographies dating back hundreds of years.
This summer was going to be great -- meeting people, exploring the city, and proving her worth to Giles and Buffy besides. Dawn signed both forms with a flourish and slipped them into her bag.