She’s picking her way through the bodies scattered around the university lawn, looking for a spot to kill the next hour when she sees them.
Mia and Pete are sitting in a patch of sun strung between the spring-fattened shadows of two trees, a stack of books and a couple of coffee cups between them. Claire considers stopping to say hello, but feels awkward. She decides she should leave them be. Even from this distance, she can see how animated they are with each other. They probably don’t want a third wheel butting in on their little sunshine coffee date.
Instead, Claire walks a little further away and finds her own sun-dappled patch of grass and drops down onto it. She slips her French textbook out of her bag, slides on her sunglasses, and lies down, using her bag for a pillow. She flicks open her book and tries to read, but it’s difficult to concentrate with all the cheerful banter around her and the lulling warmth of the sun. In minutes, she drops the book to her chest and mellows out to the light breeze and the scent of freshly mowed grass.
She thinks about the possibilities posed by the coming summer. She’d love to take a trip during the break, but she can’t decide where to go. Every travel agency she passes, she stops and looks at the fares. She muses over the delicious possibilities of the destinations on offer. Europe tops her list. The two short trips with her parents when she was young left her with vague memories of beautiful, beguiling places that she wants to see again.
She’d love to wander through those cities, only at her own pace and without the constant behest of a guidebook or, worse, a guide. On those early trips, the guide was inevitably harried by Christine’s relentless interrogations. She seemed convinced that the only way to seem intelligent was to ask a litany of questions more designed to show off her own knowledge rather than learn anything new from the guide. Those childhood holidays were fleeting introductions, but they weren’t enough. Claire wants to explore places that exist outside the increasingly small world of here. And she wants to know each more intimately because those destinations offer the potential for her to be another Claire, an anonymous Claire even she doesn’t know yet.
She’s knee-deep in contemplating the lure of being someplace else and maybe somebody else, when something nudges at her boots. She’s drawn back to the university lawn and to the question of who is trying to wreck her peaceful moment of sunshine daydreaming. She shades her eyes and looks up, ready to growl.
It’s Mia. She stands over Claire, her long hair hanging around her shoulders. “Didn’t you see me waving?”
“What? No. I only see someone ruining the serenity,” Claire mutters, playing innocent, She sits up on her elbows and blinks into the sunshine. “When?”
“Just before.”
“No.” And at least it’s true. Sure, she saw them sitting there, but she didn’t see Mia wave.
“Oh, well, that’s okay then. You weren’t ignoring me, I won’t be offended.” She hooks her fingers onto the straps of her bag and swings it slightly from side to side. “So, what are you doing?”
“What does it look like, Mia?” Claire shoots her a withering look and waves her book in the air.
Mia tips her head to the side and delivers a knowing grin. “You were not reading. You were napping.”
“Maybe.” Claire sits up and pushes her sunglasses on top of her head. “So what?”
“So, tell me, what are you doing now you’ve caught up on your beauty sleep?”
“Meeting my group to prepare our French conversation exam.” Claire rolls her eyes as she checks her wristwatch. “Soon. I am not looking forward to it. I got put in a group with completely uptight folk. Very high maintenance and stressy.”
“At least those types get good marks.” Even as she says it, Mia screws up her nose in a way that tells Claire she knows it won’t make the experience any more tolerable.
“I guess.”
“Then what are you doing after?”
“Going to work. Because my day isn’t wonderful enough already.”
“Oh.” Mia frowns. “I’m going to visit Robbie before my next class. It’s his afternoon to babysit the exhibition. I was going to see if you wanted to come.”
“Want to. Can’t. What about tomorrow? Are you around? I’ve got a lunch thing, then a class, but I’m free after that?”
“Robbie won’t be at the gallery, but we could hang out?” Mia suggests. “I have a break between three and four.”
Claire nods. “I can meet you at three.”
“Great.” Mia smiles, her brown eyes narrowing a little. “Meet you here?”
“Here.”
“Awesome. I’ll see you then.” She taps her foot against Claire’s boot one more time and turns on her heel.
“See you.” Claire watches Mia stroll away. She is so long and lanky, but there is a kind of casual grace to the way she moves, weaving her way among the other students scattered across the lawn. Claire feels enlivened by the fact she seems to be making a new friend. Of course, Mia seems so warm and indiscriminately sociable it’s kind of difficult to tell if her geniality is by default or if she really is making friends. Either way, Claire is relieved to know that someone is acting as if she genuinely wants her company. Their random hangout last week was surprisingly fun, so she is looking forward to tomorrow. And, as an added bonus, it’s something to look forward to after her dreaded lunch tomorrow.
For some stupid reason, Claire agreed to meet Michelle for lunch. To talk. Clearly sick of Claire avoiding her calls, Michelle showed up at the bar last night, a jarring and discomfiting visit that told Claire she was not going to get away with this…thing that wasn’t quite a fight with her friend. Not without a conversation about it at least.
Claire had been busy, but she spotted Michelle within a second of her arrival. She was way too neat and tidy and clean not to stand out.
“Hey,” Michelle squeaked timidly. She rested her fingers on the edge of the bar and smiled nervously at Claire. “Cool place,” she said.
“No, it’s not.”
When Michelle’s expression fell, Claire instantly felt bad. There was no reason to torture her.
“What are you doing here?” Claire asked with a not-quite smile meant to soften the question.
“I came to see you.” Michelle tucked her hair behind her ear. “You weren’t answering my messages.”
Claire shrugged and pressed her lips together, partly because she didn’t know what to say, but also because she knew it was bad form. During the past month, Michelle hadn’t given up. And having listened to those messages, Claire is fully aware that Michelle, who is ridiculously kind-hearted, is incredibly sorry about what happened. In fact, that’s probably the reason she said nothing about hanging out with the new girlfriend in the first place. As much as it upset Claire, she knows Michelle doesn’t deserve to feel this bad. But Claire left it alone for so long that she has no idea how to deal with it now. When she doesn’t know how to deal with an issue, she simply doesn’t. Avoiding is what she does best.
“Do you think we could, you know, meet? And talk?” Michelle asked, her face hopeful as she clutched the edge of the bar.
And Claire found herself saying yes—if for no other reason than to end the awkward exchange and get Michelle out of the bar. Besides, she couldn’t have handled the expression on Michelle’s face if she’d said no.
Claire stuffs her unread textbook back inside her bag and sighs. At least now she has something to look forward to.
