Teaser II
Oh, crap! Are you kidding me? I'd just said his name!
"Davy? Is that you, Davy Sandstone?"
"Yes, but the name's Dave. And you would be?" His
cluelessness didn't surprise me. Our interaction had been somewhat strained
and, at least for me, painful over the years.
Since elementary school, our paths had crossed at the pool
(where Davy had tried to drown me), the library (where Davy always managed to
beat me in the Summer Reading Race), or at the movies (where we both worked the
summer we were 16, and where he became known as The Popcorn Extortionist).
Whenever I ran into him, I tried to exchange nothing more than an unhealthy
glare. Oh, there was that one fall, when Davy had expressed fleeting interest
in my friend, but I hadn't spent much time with him since we both went to
Meadowlark Elementary School. And why didn’t we spend time together? Because of
something I like to call The Name Shortening Incident. For the longest
time, I despised Davy for that incident (I know, it's petty), but I'd gotten
past it some time ago, or so I claimed. I wondered if Davy ever thought about
it.
"It's Cecilia." My voice in my own ears held a
guarded, almost rude, tone, and I wondered if Davy could detect it. "I had
no idea you'd be here, at Michigan. I thought you went to MSU? How is
everything with you?" I asked him with a saccharine smile plastered to my
face. Inside, I kicked myself for choosing this day to put my nose into someone
else's business.
"Oh, Cecil!" he exclaimed, shortening my name again.
"Good to see you, although I didn't recognize you without your glasses!
I'm here for the art program...I decided to transfer...and I came up a little
early to find out where my classes will be. Plus, one of the orientation
leaders said he'd help me with a new technique I've been wanting to learn, but
that meant I needed to be here today."
Davy and art? His choice surprised me. He'd always struck
me as the computer programmer type or maybe even a scientist, not an artist. I
tried to excuse myself as I felt my blood starting to boil, but for some
reason, he felt the need to chat, and wanted to catch up on the years we'd
missed. I listened with half an ear, hoping to find a good time to escape. When
Davy started talking about his parents, though, I listened more closely. I had
always liked his mom and dad. I was unsettled to learn that they had divorced,
and that his dad now lived in Norway. Davy filled me in on the details of some
of the kids we used to hang around with, and what classes he'd be taking. We
also swapped stories about the bookstore.
"One book was $250! Can you believe that? And I only
get to use it for one semester!" I said. I surprised myself with my
friendliness.
"I can top that! My art supplies came to a grand total
of $450." Davy's animated face danced before mine. We were both certain
that our parents wouldn't believe us when we sent them the book bills, and I
noticed that, once again, he had bested me. Was everything a competition with
him?
Despite my initial hesitation, I allowed Davy (considering
I'd always just think of him as that little kid from the past, and really, two
could play this game) to show me where the storage closets and cafeteria
were located. With a half-smile on his face, he walked me to my room, leaning
in against the doorjamb as I placed my things on the floor inside.
"Mine's the door with Luke Skywalker on the front. I
drew him in chalk!" Davy seemed proud as he pointed his index finger in
the direction of his room. "And if you need something, Cecil…"
Davy didn't finish, just looked up at me with something
igniting his eyes. Remorse? Mischief? Something else? I'd avoided Davy for so
long, I found reading him to be impossible. I looked to my left, toward his
room, which loomed four doors down on the other side of the hall. Would it be
good or bad having Davy Sandstone so close? My past experiences with Davy had
jaded me, and I didn't understand the boy who stood before me. What did he
want? Why was he being so nice?
"Listen, Cecil, I have to go, but I'll see you around.
We should catch up some more, you know?"
"Uh, yeah, okay. But Davy, it's Cecilia. Please call
me Cecilia," I stared at his retreating back, still not sure what to make
of his behavior. As I closed the door, I heard a laugh trickle from down the
hallway. The only thing I was sure of was that once again, Davy had played me.
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