See Me(19)

Still, he felt pretty good about having made it to this point. He had Evan and Lily; he had his MMA training and a place he called his own. He wasn’t too fond of his job – the restaurant where he bartended was too touristy for his own tastes – but it wasn’t the kind of place that led to him getting into any kind of trouble. Most people came there to eat, including lots of families with kids, and those who sat at the bar were usually waiting for a table or having dinner. It was certainly a far cry from the kind of bar he used to frequent. During his wild years, he’d favored pro bars – for professional alcoholics – those dark and dingy out-of-the-way dives with or without blaring music in the background. He’d expected problems almost as soon as he walked in the door, and the world had obliged him. These days, he avoided places like that at all costs. He knew his triggers and his limits, and though he’d come a long way in keeping his anger in check, there was always the possibility that he’d find himself in a situation that quickly spiraled out of control. And there was no doubt in his mind that even if he was involved in an incident in another state, Margolis would find out and he’d live in a cage for the next decade, surrounded by people who had the same kind of anger problems as he did.

Realizing that he was drifting, he forced himself to focus on the lecture again. The professor was telling them that some teachers found it beneficial to read passages from books that were age appropriate, as opposed to books that were geared toward older or younger students. He wondered whether to jot that down in his notes – did he really need to remind himself of that in the future? – before deciding, Oh, what the hell. If she thought it important enough to say, he’d make note of it.

It was around that point, however, that he noticed a dark-haired girl peeking at him over her shoulder. While he’d drawn the expected stares when he’d entered the classroom – even the professor had done a double take and broken off in midsentence – by now the stares had been redirected toward the front of the room.

Except for this girl. Definitely watching him, almost scrutinizing. He didn’t get the sense that she was flirting; rather, it was almost like she was trying to figure him out. Not that it mattered to him one way or the other. Stare or not; it was her choice.

When class finished a few minutes later, Colin closed his notebook and stuffed it into his backpack. Flinging his backpack over his shoulder, he winced when it thumped against his bruised ribs. After classes, he planned to head to the gym to work out, but he wasn’t up for contact just yet. No sparring or grappling; just weights, core work, and a half hour of jumping rope. He’d take a break for a bit, then pop in his earbuds and run five miles while listening to the kind of music his parents had always hated, and after that, he’d shower and get ready for work. He wondered how his boss was going to react when she saw him; he suspected she wouldn’t be pleased. His face wouldn’t exactly blend in with the touristy atmosphere, but what could he do?

With an hour until his next class, he began walking toward the library. He had a paper to write, and though he’d gotten a start on it last week, he wanted to finish the first draft in the next couple of days, which wasn’t going to be easy. Between training and work, he had to utilize his limited free time efficiently.

Still sore from the fight, he walked slowly, noting the reactions of the girls who passed him. They were nearly uniform: They’d spot him and do a quick double take, revealing expressions of shock and fear, and then pretend not to have even noticed him at all. The thought amused him – a single Boo! would likely send them fleeing in the opposite direction.

As he turned onto a different walkway, a voice called out from behind him. “Hey, wait up! You, up there!” Certain it wasn’t directed at him, he ignored it.

“Hey you, with the hurt face! I said wait up!”

It took Colin a second to make sure he had heard right, but when he stopped and turned, he spotted the dark-haired girl from class, waving. He glanced over his shoulder; no one else was paying attention. As she finally closed in, he recognized her as the girl who’d been watching him in class.

“Are you talking to me?”

“Ya think?” she said, stopping a few feet away. “Who else has a hurt face around here?”

He wasn’t sure whether to be offended or laugh, but she said it in a way that made it impossible to take umbrage.

“Do I know you?”

“We’re in class together.”

“I know. I saw you staring at me. But I still don’t know you.”

“You’re right,” she said. “We’re strangers. But may I ask you a question?”

He knew exactly what was coming – the whole hurt-face thing was the tip-off – and he hitched up his backpack.

“I was in a fight.”

“Obviously,” she said. “But that’s not what I wanted to ask you. I wanted to know how old you are.”

He blinked in surprise. “I’m twenty-eight. Why?”

“That’s perfect,” she said, not answering his question. “Where are you going?”

“To the library.”

“Good. Me too. May I join you? I think we should talk.”

“Why?”

She smiled, vaguely reminding him of someone else. “If we talk, you can find out.”





CHAPTER 4