Blindness(3)

“You are so tempting, you know that?” I say, smacking him playfully on the arm. “But I have to go.”

Trevor puts on his best pout, which earns him a small kiss, but nothing more. I race into the bathroom at my apartment to shower and change.

“Hey, I have that dinner next Sunday to meet with the chief of staff in Judge Sumner’s office. You’re still good with that, right?” Trevor asks through the door while I’m showering. Damn, I’d forgotten about dinner Sunday. I just promised Caroline yesterday that I’d come home next weekend for Mac’s ceremony. It’s been three years, and every anniversary they have a candlelight memorial at the front steps of Louisville PD headquarters. I’ve missed them all. I’ve always been busy, made myself busy.

“Uh…” I’m hedging. I don’t want to let down Trevor, and truthfully, I don’t want to go relive my father’s death. But Caroline made me promise this year. My dad’s sister, my aunt, hasn’t been able to move on from it. She lives in it, literally. Mac left her his home—she never had one of her own. He always looked after her, giving her money and excuses for her emotional problems. He loved her—I know that’s why he couldn’t cut her loose. But she’s never fully been able to grow up because of it. I’d gotten a taste of it all for the three months I had to live with her before I left home to come to Western. I wasn’t going back—ever. Being there meant I ran the risk of becoming like her. And I knew being there wasn’t going to bring him back. Nothing would. So why bother.

“You’re not backing out on me, are you?” Trevor asks, pulling the shower curtain open and surprising me. He has a tone in his voice—I can tell he’s disappointed. Trevor has a way of getting his way; he doesn’t come across needy, but he has this face that just makes me want to please him. It’s satisfying to see him happy.

“No, I’ll be there. I just have to call Caroline. I forgot, I’m sorry. I told her I’d help her with something, but it can wait,” I lie. Trevor knows about my dad, and he’s met Caroline, so he knows how difficult she can be. But he doesn’t know all of the details—I always leave those out. They make me feel weak and pathetic, and I don’t want to feel his pity. Trevor is the one person who makes me feel strong, like I’m some power player in his world of lawyers and politicians—Cat Woman to his Bruce Wayne. And I like feeling that way.

He slips his head in the shower and kisses me hard, grabbing both sides of my face and making my call to Caroline easier. I smile and flit my eyes at him as he backs away. “Good, you’re my lucky charm, you know?” he winks. “I gotta go. But I’ll call you later, when I get in from my flight, okay?”

“Okay,” I smile and flick a little water at him as he leaves. He chuckles and shakes his head, walking out and shutting the door.

Trevor is classically handsome—dark hair, blue eyes, broad shoulders—he’s the alter ego of some brooding movie star and a Hilfiger ad rolled into one. He was a swimmer at Western his first four years, and he’s still built like one. In December, he’ll be graduating with his law degree, and if Sunday’s dinner goes well, he may be the youngest student in the college’s history to clerk for a circuit court judge.

We met at one of the Dean’s dinner parties last year. Trevor was my grad-student guide, and I was attracted to him instantly. He’s the only man I’ve ever slept with, which he always tells me he loves. I’m a little embarrassed by it, but honestly, before Trevor Appleton, there was never a guy who made me want to do more than kiss. I don’t know the exact moment when I fell in love with him, but I did.

He’s older—24 to my 21—but we’re both in the same place. I’ve never been a partier, never had many girlfriends, never really wanted to date. Even in high school, I was focused, my only diversion the time I spent dating Wes, and that didn’t turn out so well. My life has been one long chain of events, means to an end.

One of those ends is architecture. I’ve always had a keen eye, and I’d worked my way into an internship with one of the best firms in the Midwest. I had a feeling the job would be mine permanently when I graduated. Of course, Trevor had also been hinting about marriage lately, and if he ended up in Washington, I’d have to consider applying elsewhere. But first, I had to pass my calculus requirements.

Keys, coffee, portfolio, and notebooks in hand, and I’m on my way to the library. I haven’t taken advantage of the free tutoring sessions yet, and I’m regretting that now. I might have been able to avoid the deep hole I’d dug from my failed quizzes…if I’d just shown up for these sessions a few weeks earlier.

Parking is easy to navigate on a Saturday, so I get to the tutoring room just as they’re letting students in. There’s an entire room set up for mathematics, which makes me smile. “Misery loves company,” I laugh to myself.

I gravitate to the table near the rear of the room and sit with my back against the wall. I’m always putting myself in corners—ever since Mac died, I like to see my way out. The therapist said it was about my need for control, to anticipate the next move. Funny, though, how it’s the action happening right in front of me that always takes me by surprise.

I’m getting my book out and searching for my pencil in my bag when I suddenly feel uncomfortable, like an invisible shadow is choking me.