The Romantics(61)

Then he ran, faster than he’d ever run before, weaving in and out of confused students and horrified parents until the double doors were in sight and he was out, out into the fall air, taking the steps three at a time, holding up his hand to stop campus traffic, and dodging back behind the bell tower.

Gael’s heart was racing, his clothes were soaked with sweat, and he could barely breathe. He wrestled out of his sweatshirt and tried to find his breath.

Then he peeked around the side of the tower and gazed toward Student Stores. The guy who saw him was nowhere in sight. Nor were campus cops or irate store managers or SWAT teams.

He’d made it. He had never, ever stolen something before. He had never even considered it, much less engaged in a high-speed foot chase. It felt good, exhilarating. This was the new Gael Brennan! A maniac for romance!

The bell tower chimed five times. It was now 5:00.

Not wanting to lose any more time, he unfolded the map as quickly as he could and scanned it for H-names. Horton, Hardin, Howell—there was nothing with two names. His eyes continued to search while students walked past, talking animatedly, excited for the weekend.

Finally, at the very bottom, about as far away as possible—Hinton James.

That had to be hers. He was sure of it.

Now if he could only make it there in time.





the hitchhiker’s guide to unc


Between the sweatshirt in one hand, the map in the other, and the backpack on his back, Gael found it hard to maintain a run as he rushed to South Campus, easily a twenty-five-minute walk away. He went south on Stadium Drive and couldn’t help but slow down a bit to catch his breath. If he kept this up, by the time he got to Sammy’s, he wouldn’t even have the stamina to make the speech he hadn’t had a chance to prepare.

“Coming through,” Gael heard someone say behind him, and he turned to see a dude on a golf cart, trucking down the brick pathway, right toward him.

Gael froze as a thought filled his mind. A nutty thought. But he’d already stolen a map, knocked over a tower of sweatshirts, and made a successful escape. What was one more ridiculous move in the quest to get to Sammy in time?

Gael held his hands out in front of him, the universal symbol for stop.

“Whoa there,” the driver said, slowing down.

Gael rushed up to the side of the cart, hand on the frame so the guy couldn’t get away without a chat. “Where are you going?” he asked.

The guy was wearing a blue track jacket and a hat that said UNC ATHLETICS. His face was creased with laugh lines. “The Dean Dome. Is there an emergency, son?”

“The Dean Dome is right next to Hinton James, right?” he asked.

The guy adjusted his cap, nodded. “Do you need me to call campus police? Has something happened?”

Gael shook his head vehemently. “Listen, it’s not an emergency, but, well, it kind of is. I’m okay, don’t worry, I just need to get to Hinton James, like, right now.”

The guy paused, looked Gael up and down, then adjusted his hat again. “Well, hop in, then.”

Gael hit him with a string of fervent thank-yous and climbed in the passenger seat.

The man took off, the UNC landscape flying by at what seemed like record speed. Gael had never stolen anything. And he had never hitchhiked. Sure, it wasn’t actual hitchhiking, the highway kind, but he still felt pretty damn good about himself. It wasn’t everyone who could manage to hitch a ride to South Campus without, well, a hitch.

They turned down another path, leaving Kenan Stadium behind them. “So.” The guy smiled. “Who is she?”

“Huh?” Gael asked.

“Or he,” he added. “I guess these days I really shouldn’t assume.”

“No,” Gael said. “She. Well, you shouldn’t assume, yeah, but she is a she. But how did you know, though?”

He laughed, as the rising brick structures of the South Campus dorms appeared before them. “It’s after five on a Friday and you’re headed down to the dorms. I’m willing to bet this so-called emergency isn’t that you didn’t get your philosophy paper in on time.”

Gael smiled. “Well, she’s awesome. I’ll say that much.”

The man stopped at the corner of Manning and Skipper Bowles Drive. “I’ll have to let you out here. The dorm is just down the path.”

“Thanks,” Gael said, grabbing his backpack.

The man winked. “That’s what I’m here for. Go get her.”





the girl next dorm


It was only after the golf cart pulled away that Gael realized there were two paths. Two dorms in this vicinity. He pulled out the map, but in his agitated state, he could barely tell left from right, much less north from south.

Shit, he thought.

Gael took a guess and headed to the right, running as fast as he could manage down the path. As he approached the front door, Gael stopped a dude in a hoodie who looked mildly friendly.

“Is this Hinton James?” he asked.

“This is Craige, man.”

Double shit.

“It’s the next dorm,” the guy said, but Gael didn’t even stop to thank him. He just turned and bolted.

In minutes, he was in front of Hinton James. By the grace of God, Sammy had once mentioned that she lived on the top floor, so Gael knew that, at least.