Target on Our Backs
Page 21

 J.M. Darhower

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"Oh, shit!" Her eyes widen. "Coffee! I'm so sorry! I forgot!"
"No big deal." I motion toward her. "I can tell you were, uh... otherwise occupied."
Blushing… yet again… she grabs my arm and drags me back to the room, not offering a word in the way of explanation. She unlocks the door and waltzes in, yanking me inside behind her before shutting the door again. Kimberly is sitting at her desk and doesn't bother turning around as we enter, but I can see her back straighten like she's preparing for an attack or something. I plop down on Melody's messy bed, relaxing back on a pile of clothes, as Melody whips the dress off over her head, tossing it at me.
"I'm seriously so sorry," she says, rooting through her dresser drawers. "I would've never stood you up like that. It completely slipped my mind."
"It's fine," I assure her. "I just wanted to make sure you were all right."
"I'm more than all right," she says, snatching up a shirt and a pair of pants before turning to me. "I'm perfect. He's just... wow. He's perfect. He took me to dinner last night at Paragone... you know, that fancy ass place over near Central Park? Can you believe it? I've always wanted to eat there!"
Can I believe it?
I don't know.
I ate there once before.
Naz took me on our first date, I guess you could call it. He dropped thousands on tiny plates of food and crazy overpriced champagne. He had to intimidate the staff to get a table because they book up weeks in advance.
"Wow," I say. "How'd he get a reservation?"
"Who knows," she says, "but we showed up and there was one in his name! We ate and talked and laughed... and then we went back to his place and we slept."
"You... slept."
"Yes." She turns to look at me. "We both fell asleep. It was the first time in my life I just slept with a guy all night long, you know? No hanky-panky."
I seriously don't know what to say.
Boy crazy Melody Carmichael is standing in front of me, half naked, telling me she kept her clothes on last night?
"So you guys didn't, you know... do it?"
"Oh, pfft, of course. Fucked his brains out first thing this morning."
She laughs.
I just shake my head.
Kimberly, across the room, slams a book closed and runs her hands down her face.
Melody shoots her roommate a look, rolling her eyes, before focusing on me again. "So that was my night. I had to make the trek back here from Brooklyn looking just like this."
"Brooklyn?"
"Yeah, like, Bensonhurst or something. Took forever. Anyway, I'm going to take a quick shower. Don't go anywhere, okay?"
She doesn't give me time to respond before jetting off to the bathroom, leaving me here. I sit in silence, absently smoothing and folding the dress to occupy my time, as Kimberly shifts things around on her desk, arranging her books. She pulls one out of her bag, and I catch sight of the black and white cover. History: A Definitive Guide.
I have that book, too.
"Are you taking Rowan's class?"
The question is out of my mouth before I can even talk myself out of asking it. Kimberly continues what she's doing as she answers flippantly, "You sit three rows behind me."
"Oh."
I didn't notice.
I don't pay attention to my classmates.
I've been too busy trying to fly under the radar.
"He's a nice professor," I say, not sure what else I can say in response to that. "Better than most, anyway. I've definitely had worse."
She shoves her chair back, turning to look at me. The screech of the legs against the floor silences my babbling. The scowl is still on her face, but it's deeper now, etched with a stark sort of anger.
"Can we not do this?" she asks, motioning between us. "Can you stop trying to engage me in conversation like we're friends so I can pretend you're not here? It would make my life so much easier."
I blink a few times, balking at her tone. "Excuse me?"
"You heard me. It's bad enough I have to live in this hellhole with that… girl. I don't need whatever bad karma you bring on top of it."
I'm utterly flabbergasted.
Did she really just say that?
"Look, you don't even know me, so I'm not sure what I've done to make you—"
She laughs, cutting me off, but it's sort of a maniacal laugh, like the girl has a bit of Joker in her that's dying to come out. She's three seconds away from painting her fucking face and going after Batman.
"You can't be that stupid," she says. "Maybe you're a nice person, I don't know, but stuff happens when you're around, stuff I'd rather not happen in my life. Maybe it's all a coincidence, but maybe it's not. And people talk. The Reed girl, the last person to see Professor Santino alive. The girl whose roommate's boyfriend disappeared. The girl who was shot by a frickin' gangster last year. That stuff... it's not normal. It doesn't happen to normal people. So please, take whatever baggage you have elsewhere, because I'd rather not help you carry it."
She swings back around, going right back to her books, as if she hadn't just raked me over the damn coals. I stare at her, my stomach tied up in knots. I feel like I'm going to throw up.
Melody waltzes back in then, returning from the quickest shower she's ever taken, and is yammering away about something. I don't know. I'm not listening. I can't focus. My mind keeps replaying Kimberly's words.
People talk.
People talk about me?
"Earth to Karissa!" Melody snaps her fingers in my face. "Jesus, girl, what's been wrong with you lately? You always seem so far away!"
I glance at her.
I still don't know what to say.
A ringing shatters the silence, though, saving me from having to come up with some words yet. The room phone. Kimberly huffs, standing up and storming out, while Melody grabs the phone to answer it. "Room 1313."
The call only lasts a minute before she hangs up, telling whoever it is she'll be there in a minute.
"Package or something," she tells me, even though I didn't ask. She quickly finishes dressing and brushes her hair. "Walk with me downstairs?"
"Uh, yeah... I should get going, anyway."
"Right, you've got class."
"Yeah."
Melody continues her yammering on the way down to the lobby. I catch a few of the words—she's gushing about Leo. I smile and nod, trying to be a good friend. But is that even possible?
I don't know, honestly.
Because all those things Kimberly mentioned?
Definitely not a coincidence.
"Are you okay?" Melody asks, grabbing my arm to stop me when we reach the first floor and step off the elevator.
"Yeah, uh... I don't know." I shrug, because really, I don't know. I'm not an idiot. I'm not stupid. I know people gossip. But I've ever had someone blatantly bring it up. "Have you heard…? I mean, do people really talk about me?"
Melody stares at me in confusion before her expression shifts, a knowing look overcoming her face. I wouldn't call it pity. Melody isn't the kind of person to pity anybody. But it is sympathetic, like she knows exactly what I mean.