Page 19 of Strings Attached
He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “And you give me my ask of the day.”
“Glad we’re clear on that, then.” But I had the feeling it was anything but clear.
13
A Gift
With the regular semester back in full swing, I barely had time for any interviews. Not that it mattered since I hadn’t seen Jack for the past week. The last time was when I’d tried making our relationship clear. Was he angry with me about that? I scoffed at the thought; it wouldn’t make any sense for him to be upset in the first place.
The weather was still hot, but the nights slowly began cooling down. Every time I returned home, part of me expected Jack to be inside my apartment, but he never was.
Elsie came rushing in for our afternoon class, late as usual, and plopped down right next to me. “Have you heard?” Elsie whispered.
I shushed her, motioning to the professor, who shot us a dirty look; the class only had around twenty students, so it wasn’t as though we wouldn’t be noticed.
“Sorry, Professor, but it’s about Trevor,” Elsie said as tears filled her eyes. “Didn’t you hear?”
Professor Santor’s solemn expression churned my stomach, but I didn’t dare believe something actually happened to him. It couldn’t be. “Yes. I heard this morning. The police came to speak with me since he attended this class...” He let out a sigh as he shook his head. “For those who don’t know, one of the students here, Trevor Sullivan, was unfortunately killed in a fire last night.”
“A fire?” Another student repeated. “Where? I don’t remember hearing anything about?”
“It was in a Chinatown apartment,” Elsie chimed in. “The restaurant downstairs caught fire, and the flames took the whole building in a matter of minutes.”
If I was drawn to serial killers, Elsie was definitely curious about arson. We weren’t exactly friends since I was older than her?and the majority of my peers?by five years.
“For those who need to talk to someone, I’ll be here after class,” the professor continued, “and there are always the many programs available to students, for free, for any mental health needs.” He turned his back to the class and started writing the study material for today on the whiteboard.
My mind was reeling. “I can’t believe it...” I muttered. Trevor was just... gone? Yet, it shouldn’t surprise me; everyone I was around seemed to die from the time I was born. It was as though death wanted me all to itself.
The rest of the class seemed to pass in a strange blur, but soon enough, the clock hand moved, and Professor Santor dismissed us.
“Want to grab a coffee and go over the notes?” Elsie asked with a grin as we walked outside.
“Sure.” I was still a bit in a daze as we went to our favorite coffee shop. I knew Elsie needed the notes from the start of the period, and I wasn’t opposed to sharing. “Why were you late this time?”
“I went to see what was left of the building after the fire,” she said, as though it was obvious.
“That’s not morbid at all.” I was definitely one to talk.
“If you heard a serial killer murdered someone inside a building, you’d rush there hoping for a photo op or something,” Elsie shot back with a grin. She sobered quickly as we approached the shop. “I can’t believe he’s dead, though. Apparently, the kitchen staff didn’t turn off one of their old stoves properly, and there’d been oil left behind. Place was old, so it just burned down fast.”
I ordered an iced white mochaccino and joined Elsie at one of the tables where she was already busy copying the missed notes. We studied, exchanging notes about the subject?human rights in journalism?and after a couple of hours, I stretched.
“I think I’m going to call it a day,” I said, grabbing my books and notes, then putting them back into my messenger bag. “Any plans this weekend?”
“Spending what little time I have with my boyfriend while he’s off work. I hate that he has to work shifts most days.”
“Well, enjoy your time together,” I said with a small wave as I left the shop.
It was already a bit cooler outside, and I couldn’t help but let out a sigh. So many of my classmates had partners despite being younger than me. I usually didn’t mind, but sometimes, it was lonely. Not that it would matter in eight months. After my report was finished, so was I.
I approached my building and eyed it. The place was old; would it burn down quickly like Trevor’s apartment had? Burning to death wasn’t exactly the way I wanted to go. I stepped inside, and the smell of mold caught my nose. I grimaced; this place couldn’t burn down with how humid it was.
As I got to my door, I frowned at a small box left in front of it. I hadn’t ordered anything... Maybe it was delivered to the wrong address?
I unlocked the door, then picked it up before heading inside. It was a bit stuffier inside since I’d turned off my air conditioner and left the window open instead. Still, I wouldn’t complain since, soon enough, I’d be bitching about all the snow.
Why couldn’t I live somewhere that was always autumn?
