Chapter Two
Interlude: Eye
Catch 2
Background Theme:
Life As Usual
The Student Union was filled with the customary roar that
usually accompanies a crowd of several hundred people walking, talking, laughing,
shouting, scraping trays, scraping seats, opening and closing doors; the roar
was almost waterfall-esque in its constant level of sound that blasted away at
anyone entering the building. A quiet
lunch at this time of day was not only unlikely; it was one of those things
spoken of only in legends.
I elbowed my way through a crowd of students that stood around
chatting near the beginning of the cafeteria line. "Make a hole!" I yelled, reaching behind me to take Alisha's hand
as I guided her though the crowd. Two
of the girls in the crowd stepped back quickly, one glaring at me with a retort
on her lips. The retort quickly died on
those lips with the withering glance I cast her way as I strode through with
Alisha in tow, who simply shrugged and smiled innocently at the girl.
"That wasn't very nice," Alisha scolded once we reached the
line.
"They were in the way," I protested. "They can pick some other spot to lolligag in." I smiled mischievously and chuckled. "They should know better than to stand
between me and a meal. Enough
said. I'm hungry." Alisha smiled bemusedly to herself as I
grabbed a tray, selected a couple of sets of silverware, and commenced to
browse over the day's selection.
"What do they have?" Alisha asked, stepping up on tiptoes and
looking over my shoulder to peruse the culinary offerings. The gentle scent of her perfume drifted over
me. I paused to breathe deeply of her,
allowing my mind and heart to wildly dance beneath the calm front I
displayed. I turned my attention to the
various selections, having come dangerously close to short-circuiting my brain
with her close proximity.
"The usual – pizza, burgers, hot dogs, fries…oh, wait! Egg rolls, and there's some stir fry
here." I pointed to a steaming tray in
the middle of the a la carte
section. "Woo Hoo!"
"That'll work," Alisha echoed, eyes lighting up at the
prospect of Chinese cuisine.
"A woman after my own heart," I said, chuckling softly. Alisha blushed and lightly whacked my upper
arm with the bottom of her fist.
"Careful, Girl, or you'll be wearing it," I joked teasingly.
"You'd better not,"
she shot back with a smile, but took a step back just to be safe.
I laughed louder and we moved further down the line. A couple of Diet Cokes and then the register,
we looked around for an empty spot at any of the many nearby round tables
scattered throughout the Student Union.
I caught the eye of Liz Crawford, another friend of mine. She and a familiar-looking classmate were
apparently going over some notes when she looked up, saw me, and beckoned us
over. Liz leaned back demurely in her
chair, one arm behind the backrest, showing off the gray-blue silk blouse she
wore. She also wore a very nice green silk skirt that was slit
suggestively along one side, revealing the nylon tan of a thigh. The flirt.
I must have been looking too intently at this elegant display
for I suddenly felt the weight of glaring eyes on the back of my head followed
by a poke to my lower back.
"What?" I said innocently, turning back to see Alisha's eyes
flare and brief hints of crimson flood her cheeks.
She ignored me as she stepped past me, taking an empty chair
on the opposite side of the table and setting her books down noisily.
"What?" I asked again.
"Nothing," she said softly with a quick (jealous?) glance toward Liz.
Knowing better than to pursue this line of questioning
further, I pulled up a chair next to Alisha.
Liz smiled sweetly and ran a hand through her short blonde hair. "How's it goin', Vic?" she asked in that false
nasal accent that reminded me of a cross between Fran Driesner and a New York
cabby. It annoyed me to no end and she
always got a kick out of it. Only from a friend, I thought to myself
and let it slide. She had sat next to
me throughout the Public Speaking class I had met her in the previous summer; I
enjoyed teasing her over her Southern drawl and now she was paying me back in
spades. What goes around…
Still, she had helped me get through that class by serving as
a sounding board for the speeches I gave in class. She was a good friend, and quite a nice little package to boot.
I must have been dwelling a little too long or a little too
strongly on that thought – my quiet appraisal was distracted by what sounded
like "Pig!" muttered under Alisha's
breath. When I looked her way, she was
daintily taking a bite of her egg roll and looking casually away. I mentally shrugged and turned to Liz.
"Not too much," I answered.
"Trying to stay awake in Lit class.
Dr. Encio sat in for us."
"He's far too happy for my likes. And that habit of looking at you with that look in his eyes…like
he knows something you don't or are about to find out unexpectedly." Liz
quivered in her seat. "Uncanny."
"I suppose. But I also
hear he's had quite an adventurous life.
Perhaps he's simply learned how to read people so he tends to be in on
the joke before the punch line hits.
Anyway," I leaned back, stretching, stifling a yawn; " I had trouble
staying focused in class as it was.
Didn't score much sleep last night;" glancing a sidelong look at Alisha,
"some strange woman kept me up most of the night." I smiled.
Alisha looked at me and smiled haughtily, crinkling her nose
and slanting her eyes as she stealthily kicked me in the calf under the
table. Ow!
"Smartass," she quipped.
"Your point?" I retorted, rubbing my calf. Alisha started on her fried rice and chicken
stir-fry while opening her Ethics book.
She chewed thoughtfully as she read through several passages, pointedly
ignoring me.
Grimacing, an image in my mind of me sticking my tongue out at
her then deciding the better of it, I settled for shrugging my shoulders in
capitulation.
Liz's classmate, whom I remembered as Kelley, looked on in
quiet amusement. Kelley had also been
in my Public Speaking class. Most
notable of his speeches had been about his favorite hobby, Scuba Diving. My ears were still ringing from the blast of
air released from the air tank he brought for a demonstration. Light brown curly hair swayed as he turned
his head back and forth from me to Alisha to Liz.
"Well, Liz, gotta blow," Kelley said as he hefted his
moderately built frame out of his chair and stood up. He was a good head or so taller than my own five-seven. "I'll swing by tonight to go over the rest
of the study notes for Friday's test."
"What class?" I inquired, looking over toward the books Kelly
was stacking and the notes he was organizing in a yellow folder.
"Stagecraft."
"Ah. Had that last
year. Rusty got you started yet on your
project?" Russell Gardner was a
university adjunct instructor who taught a couple of Theatre and Music
classes. He was also a musician
extraordinaire who conducted the university orchestra. The Stagecraft Final Exam consisted of
constructing a miniature stage set complete with props, lighting diagrams, and
a cost analysis for putting together a theatrical production. I had taken it a step further and included a
script from a one-act I had put together a couple of years before, along with
costume designs a friend was kind enough to draw up for me.
"That's one of the things Liz and I were going over." Kelly
picked up his books and folder, stuffing them into a purple-striped black
backpack.
"We're doing a joint project," Liz chimed in. "Antigone."
I cringed at the name of the famous Greek tragedy, remembering
how our own production of it the previous spring had been plagued with its own
tragedies. "Well, break a leg," I
said. "Let me know if you need any pointers."
"Yes, Teresias," Liz said, grinning. "You portrayed the blind prophet quite well," she added,
teasingly.
"Whatever," I said with a small laugh. "Catch you later, Kelley."
Kelley waved and walked through the dwindling crowd toward the
exit. Liz watched him go, with a slight
look of hunger in her eyes – hunger not satiated by the type of food I began
digging into with gusto. I made a
mental note to ask her about that later.
"So what do you two have going after lunch?" Liz asked, then
started laughing as I tried to spear a piece of broccoli from Alisha's
plate. Alisha responded with a quick
jab toward my hand before I could succeed.
I smirked mischievously back at her, eliciting another kick toward my
leg. I moved my leg back slightly, causing
her kick to overextend and hit her shin on one of my chair's legs. Alisha grimaced slightly then pouted as she
bent down to massage her leg. I reached
over and rubbed my hand across her back affectionately.
"Sorry, Sweetheart," I apologetically whispered to her. Looking back to Liz, I told her that I didn't
have to attend my Voice Techniques class.
"The instructor is out of town," I continued. "Thought I might do some reading." I held up the red folder Shawn had given me
earlier.
"Ooh, ooh, let me see!" Liz insisted. I handed her the folder and let her read
while Alisha and I finished our meal amid small talk between us.
"Not bad," Liz said when she finished. "He dies at the end of that one," motioning
to Nibun Yuri's fanfic.
"So Shawn told me.
Don't spoil the rest for me."
Alisha rolled her eyes again.
"Hey, you don't have class this afternoon either," I said to
Alisha. "Good. I can lay some of this weirdness, as you call it, on you."
Looking at her watch, she said, "Okay, but just for a
while. I've got somewhere to be at
Two."
I pulled my watch from my pocket. It was missing its straps where I had removed them both after one
had broken. It still kept perfect time
and the little Flying Mario hologram on it still smiled away cheerfully. It read "12:43."
Liz glanced at her watch as well, then scooted back her
seat. Standing up, she gathered her
books together. "Gotta head on myself,"
she said. "I need to finish reading Biatricci's Daughter before my 1:15
class." She reached over and patted
Alisha's hand then clasped my shoulder.
"See ya'll later."
"I'm surprised the two of you didn't start going out," Alisha
said after Liz passed beyond earshot.
"You both seem to get along well with each other."
"I told you, she's just a friend."
"Uh huh."
"Do I hear a hint of jealousy in that voice?"
"I don't know what you are talking about." She looked away as
she sipped at her Diet Coke.
"First you want me, then you don't. It's the same old story, Alisha."
"I told you, you only think
you love me. I'm just a convenience for
you. Where were your feelings when you
were seeing your last girlfriend?"
I winced. "That's not
fair. You hardly had anything to do
with me when you were seeing what's-his-face.
I needed something in my life,
if just to have some feeling of normality.
If you weren't willing, I had to find someone who was."
"But you only pursue me when it's convenient for you. You'd just treat me as a stand-in until
something else came along." She snorted and started getting her books together.
"Is that what you truly
believe?" I sat back, aghast. "You
know, you may have allowed others to
treat you this way. This might be how you judge your so-called
'Track Record.'" Now I was getting
quite irate. "But don't you DARE lump me in with them."
"I'm sorry, that was harsh.
It's just how I feel most of the time," she said softly, then
shrugged. "Besides, why would I be
jealous?" She tried to fix a hard look
on me, but a raised eyebrow on my part caused her to soften. "I'm seeing someone else, you know that."
"Yeah, so you say. I
think I'd be a much better match for you."
"Well, whatever…," she trailed off as her features softened
further. She looked away momentarily,
then turned back to me. "Didn't you
have something you wanted to read to me?"
I marveled at her attempt to change the subject. Considering it for a moment, I decided it
would be best to go along with it.
"Yeah. These Ranma fanfics are
pretty good. At least the ones I've
read so far. Let's go out to the Tree."
"Okay," she said, looking at me for a moment as if lost in
thought, then turned to head toward the side entrance we originally entered
from, leaving me to hurriedly grab my things and follow her. I drained the last of my Diet Coke and
hurled the aluminum can toward the trash receptacle just outside the door. It banged loudly on the inside of the far
end, then dropped with a tinny clank
to the bottom. Another Class III throw,
I thought to myself as I hurried to catch up with my Best Friend…and The Woman
That I Was So Desperately in Love With.
