Bridge to a Distant Star - Carolyn Williford [92]
Michal grinned up at him, appreciating his height and the quick recognition. “You’re good. Not everyone remembers that.”
Blushing, he refused to meet her eyes, taking his turn at kicking a rock.
“Well, I’d better go,” Michal said. “Speaking of getting our priorities right, I’ve got plenty of work to do.”
Stephen hunched over even more, if that were possible. He continued to concentrate on the rock, an excuse to keep his gaze downward. “Yeah, me too. Nice to talk with you.” He ventured a quick glance, caught her eye for a split second. “Um, see you around. Bye.”
And then he did an abrupt about-face, hustling down the walk like he was running from a fire. Never venturing a glance behind.
Michal smiled at his retreating back, amazed at what had just transpired.
A waste basket was wedged in the door of the suite to capture the cross-breeze as several of the girls gathered in the suite’s lounge. They were stretched out on the chairs and couch, a couple on the floor with backs against the tired-looking furniture. Laughter broke out as Michal walked in, just as Jessica demanded, “Pass the popcorn, will you? Geez, you guys are hogging it all.”
Michal noted all but one of her suitemates were there—Jenny, Samantha (Sam, as they generally called her), Jessica, and Ruth—plus two from the adjacent suite, Lauren and Amy. Beth was noticeably absent.
“Hey, Michal. What’s with you?” Ruth asked, narrowing her eyes at Michal’s expression. “You’re lit up like the stoplight at Main Street. So what’s up?”
“You won’t believe it. Do I have a story to tell you.”
Jessica—her mouth full of popcorn—simply patted the couch, motioning for Michal to sit next to her. She held out the bag of popcorn.
“No chips?” Michal complained, grimacing. “Beth and I haven’t had anything but popcorn for ages. I can’t stand another kernel.”
“That’s all we’ve got left too,” Ruth groused. “What can I say? It’s time for spring break. Time to go home, raid some cupboards, replenish the supplies.”
“And speaking of Beth, does anybody know where she is?” Michal asked. Frowning, resigned, she reached for a handful of popcorn, unable to resist the smell after all.
Everyone’s head was shaking. “She wasn’t in our Romans class,” Sam offered. “Second time she’s missed this week. Dr. Shaw didn’t look happy about it either.”
“I’m getting worried about her,” Michal said. “Seems like she just wants to stay in bed all the time. She’s skipping chapel too—has a ton of cuts, she told me.”
“She’s puttin’ on the pounds. Definitely added the freshman fifteen,” from Samantha.
“Samantha.” Michal shot her a glare, determined to be loyal, defensive of her roommate.
“That’s not kind, Sam,” Jessica lectured, and then laughed, as Samantha took that moment to stuff her mouth with a large fistful of popcorn. And then watched a good portion fall all over the floor.
“Frankly, I want to hear Michal’s news before I get back to studying.” Jenny glanced at her watch, sucking in her breath. “Two thirty. Geez, how did it get that late already? Can you give us the condensed version, Michal?”
“Well, Allistair asked me to go to the basketball game with him tomorrow night.” Gasps and exclamations all around. “And when Stephen Jones takes off that wretched stocking cap and smiles …” she drew out her words in dramatic fashion, holding everyone’s attention, “he’s got really nice blond hair. And dimples.”
Comments and questions came in a bombardment.
“Allistair asked you out? No way.”
“I’ll tell you what’s no way—no way I’m believin’ that about Jones.”
“Jones gives me the willies. Seriously.” Samantha formed an L shape with her fingers, held it to her forehead. “Loo-ser. Jones is a big time loser.”
“He actually smiled? Stephen Jones smiled? Didn’t know he had it in ’im.”
“Oh, Michal. Allistair?”
“You’ve got to wear some of my clothes, Michal. Something really cool. Do your hair. And makeup. Let me do it.” Samantha, who’d been sitting on the floor, was now up on her knees and had inched forward so she was at Michal’s feet.
“I’m not going.” Michal’s voice