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exercise room.
Chapter Six
Elena
As I walked through the doors of Sidney Smith Hall, I quickened my pace and surveyed the
rapidly filling corridor. The chances of running into Clayton out here were next to nil, but I
looked anyway. More significantly, I let myself look. Part of me still rebelled, urged my legs to
slow down, not to get to the class early. God forbid I might let him know I d been looking
forward to seeing him. What bullshit. I wasn t giving in to that. Not today.
I spent too much of my life worrying about how things look, how they might be interpreted,
never wanting to seem too enthusiastic about anything, to let anyone know I gave a damn. Part
of that was justified. I d been burned. But it was hard work, maintaining those defenses, and
some days I wanted to tear them down, act as I pleased, and not care what anyone thought. I
knew I wouldn t go that far. Didn t dare. But lately, I d begun to feel that maybe, with Clayton,
I could. He would never talk about me behind my back, telling others I was acting strangely.
When it came to acting strangely, I was pretty sure I couldn t outdo him. He didn t care what
anyone thought of him, so he wasn t likely to judge me. And, even if he did, he was leaving in
another month or so, and I d probably never see him again.
Was it only another month? His stint was done in mid-November, wasn t it? Alarm raced
through me, but I chased it back. I had other things to worry about.
Kelley Armstrong Beginnings 73
At least the weekend was over. Any holiday that revolved around family Thanksgiving,
Christmas, Easter, Mother s Day, Father s Day saw me sitting in my dorm room alone, keenly
aware of the empty halls, afraid to even turn on the television, knowing I d see be confronted
with images of the holiday, even the commercials leaping out to remind me that normal people
were home with their families. And if I didn t have a family, well, whose fault was that? Being
an orphan wasn t an excuse. I d had plenty of foster families to make my own and, if I hadn t,
that said something about me, didn t it?
I hated dwelling on this, but never seemed to be able to get past it. On Sunday, just when
I d been ready to head out and shoot some hoops by myself, the phone had rung. My one bit of
 family contact that weekend a former foster mother phoning, not to invite me to
Thanksgiving dinner or even to ask how I was doing, but to accuse me, yet again, of ruining her
son s life. As if it was my fault
 Elena!
A dark-haired young woman pushed past a group loitering outside an open classroom door.
 Hey, Jody, I said, stopping.
 Hey, yourself. You didn t call when you got in last night. I was hoping we could grab
coffee.
 Sorry, I got back late.
 So how was your weekend?
 Good. And yours?
 I survived. She stepped closer, moving out of the lane of foot traffic.  So, what d you
do? Visiting lots of relatives? Eat lots of turkey? Pray you don t have to see either again until
Christmas?
Kelley Armstrong Beginnings 74
I forced a smile.  Something like that. You joining us for dinner?
 Of course. Share some holiday war stories before my night class. Get your best one ready,
 cause I think I ve got everyone beat this time.
We chatted for another couple of minutes. Though I kept trying to steer conversation away
from the weekend, Jody kept swinging it back there. I hated lying to my friends. Hated myself
for doing it. But the alternative was worse. Admit you have no place to go for the holiday, and
they ll do what any good friend would do invite you to share their family celebrations. While I
appreciated the sentiment, the only thing worse than sitting alone in my dorm was sitting with
strangers who were all trying very hard to make me feel like family, and only reminding me all
the more that I wasn t.
That was one reason I was looking forward to seeing Clayton. Sure, he d ask how my
weekend went, but that d be it. No details required or expected. I got the sense that, if I cared to
provide those details, he d be interested enough in hearing them. Yet he felt no obligation to
drag them out of me. Too often people seemed to interpret silence as a sign that you really
wanted to say more, but needed prompting, like a sinner in the confessional, ready to unburden
yourself as soon as someone took an interest.
After talking to Jody, I was no longer early for class. By the time I swung through the door,
the room was nearly full. Clayton was at the front, bent over the table, sorting papers. I paused,
expecting him to look up. He always did, with that weird sixth sense of his, seeming to know
when someone was heading to the office even before I heard footsteps. He kept working,
though. I swung past the desk, certain he d glance up then, and I think he did, lifting his head
just barely, but he didn t bother to meet my gaze, let alone sneak me his usual smile.
Kelley Armstrong Beginnings 75
I climbed to my seat, disappointment mingling with reproach. So he didn t notice you? Big
deal. You re his TA. What do you expect? A hug? I bit back a laugh at the thought. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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