Chapter 3

October 1971 – Yale University

Angela felt lit and light as she walked into the Chapel Square Mall. Not quibbling over style or price, she bought a basic sweat suit and a pair of running shoes. She changed in the mall bathroom - being sure to use a paper towel to open the door on her way out.

Angela didn't want to go to the school's track; it was too conspicuous. She hadn't done this before, and didn't need spectators. But it was 55° that afternoon, and she also didn't need to stand around trying to figure out what she was going to do. So she ducked back into her car, and just kept driving east.

After almost half of an hour, she found herself on Route 148. It was a long, windey, quiet, sort of road – just like the one Ben said he started on, grinned Angela. She pulled over to the side, and got out.

Jumping up and down a couple of times to get the blood flowing, Angela stopped, and with a decisive exhale, started to run.

It felt extremely unnatural. She wasn't just having a hard time breathing, although that was certainly true. But her knees seemed stiff, and her balance seemed off. But she kept going. She kept pushing herself. After not too long, she needed a breather very badly. With a quickness she'd just been doubting she possessed, Angela slowed to a stop. She looked back toward the car. Damn. It looked less than 100 yards away. She felt like she'd gone at least a half mile! Frowning, Angela clenched her teeth, and started walking. When she caught her breath, she resumed her run. This time, she pushed herself further. She looked back again. The car was little. Hmm… She couldn't tell, and she no longer cared. After a short walk, she smiled past a burning sore throat, and started to run again. She did this several more times, then walked back to her car. She'd never been an athlete, but on the drive back to the sorority house that night, Angela couldn't remember the last time she felt this much like herself.

Route 148 had turned into Angela's Carwen and Ben. She'd spent her runs thinking through all the things that had been bugging her. Sometimes, she cried. Other times, she just wanted to escape. She'd let her mind wander back to her favorite book characters, imagining herself in the heroine's role. Sometimes she obsessed about the number of remaining minutes before she could stop. Sometimes she straight up hated it, but she was always glad she had gone.

After a rough run at the start of the second week, Angela shivered as she slowly made her way up the steps into the house. The sweat was cooling her off a little too efficiently for her liking, but her muscles ran the show, and they were determined to take their time getting her up to her room. With her last ounce of effort, Angela rid herself of her soaked running gear, and took a hot shower.

While all this exercise certainly relieved tension, it also added more - particularly, in regards to Angela's homework. She commuted almost an hour for a 30 minute run, then she took a long shower and spent another 30-45 minutes dressing and recuperating afterward. That was a big hunk of the afternoon. Of course, she could've run somewhere closer to campus, but Route 148 had become sacred to her, familiar. She felt like she had Ben there with her, entirely pleased with her chosen venue. But her schedule was getting tighter than she was comfortable with. She had a paper due in Organizational Behavior, her least favorite class, and she felt herself getting fuzzy in even the classes she liked. This simply won't do. She combed her wet hair, and tucked it into a quick French braid. Dabbing a couple dots of concealer on the pimples that simply refused to leave her alone, she then grabbed her books and headed for the library.

She settled herself into a quiet cubical in the back, and started taking notes for her paper.

In the corner of her eye, Angela noticed a handsome student with dark brown hair quietly pacing by an empty reference desk. She resumed her work, but a few minutes later, he was still at it. She was annoyed with him that he was so disruptive. She was annoyed with herself that she was so easily distracted by a good-looking guy. It's not like it would ever amount to anything.

Sighing, Angela scooted her chair back and walked over to him. "This desk isn't usually manned at this hour. The librarians only use it during the busier part of the afternoon," she whispered more pointedly than she meant to.

"Oh, thanks," he said quietly, obviously a little embarrassed. Angela felt guilty for being such a know-it-all. There was probably a good reason this man, who didn't look at all like a freshman, didn't know the basic functioning of the library after the better part of a semester. Stop it, Angela! That judgmental stuff is ugly, she chastised herself. You don't have to pick him apart just because you know he wouldn't like you.

"The ladies at the checkout desk are pretty much the only ones available right now," she said more softly, and gave him a close-mouthed smile.

"Thank you," he said with warmest chocolate brown eyes she'd ever seen, and gave her a big, gorgeous grin as he walked away. Angela just stood there, unable to move. Well, maybe she could've if she'd have thought to... Shaking herself out of whatever that was, she walked back to her desk, sat down, and was a little surprised by a gorgeous grin of her own.

When she got home that night, Angela hustled up to her room, and locked the door. She eagerly started flipping through the hangers in her closet. Coming upon the cream-colored wool jumper her mother had sent her, she yanked it out and clipped off the tags. She dug around in her drawer for burgundy knee socks and a matching turtle neck. She laid them over the valet for tomorrow, and set her clock for an hour earlier than normal.