Total pages in book: 24
Estimated words: 22147 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 111(@200wpm)___ 89(@250wpm)___ 74(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 22147 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 111(@200wpm)___ 89(@250wpm)___ 74(@300wpm)
But I force myself to hold my chin up high. I don’t know that Roland has a girlfriend or wife. This is purely conjecture on my part, so I make myself swallow the painful lump in my throat. Even if he does have a partner, it’s not my business anymore. I moved on, he moved on, and we have our separate lives now.
Elisa interrupts my thoughts.
“Oh and by the way, there’s a departmental party tonight,” she says in a careless voice. “Do you want to come? It’s going to be fun, and everyone’s going to be there.”
I shake my head as we enter the classroom.
“No, I need to take care of Tommy, and study for midterms too. I’m way behind as it is.”
Elisa wheedles as we sit down in the third row from the back.
“Come on, Aria. It’s a departmental party. It’s not like this is going to be some crazy rave with black lights and people dropping acid. This is the English Department’s annual Christmas party, where ancient professors stand around drinking wine and eating cheese and crackers. It’s nothing. Plus, I bet your babysitter can stay a little longer. It’s right after class, so why don’t you text her now and see? The party’s only going to last an hour at most.”
I shoot her a wry look.
“Is it the one that’s going to be held in Evans Hall?” I ask. “The one where they always play canned Christmas music and where Professor Lewis dresses up like Santa?”
“Exactly,” says Lissie with satisfaction. “It’s safe, Aria. You don’t even need to wear holiday clothes. It’s a professional event more than anything, and besides, don’t you need an adviser for your senior thesis next semester? This is the perfect time to meet one because all the professors are going to be there.”
All except one, the voice in my mind says. After all, Roland took a leave of absence after the investigation ended. No one blamed him. He’d been through the wringer with the Academic Senate, not to mention the psychological stress and professional pressure he must have been under. I heard that he joined a writer’s colony out in Maine for the year, with the department’s support. Why not? He’d be able to get a lot of work done without the distractions of university life cropping up non-stop.
As a result, I know that Roland won’t be at the party. It should be a relief, but at the same time, I miss him desperately. Sometimes, I still wake up in the middle of the night, dreaming of his huge bulk above me as those blue eyes sear my curves. I imagine that hard pole claiming me from behind as I scream out in pleasure, my body his to enjoy. I imagine him suckling at my breast before moving down to taste the sweetness between my thighs.
But those are all fever dreams. After all, Roland’s gone now, and who knows when he’ll be back? I’m set to graduate this year, and after that, I don’t know where I’ll be. I wish I could work up the courage to tell him about his son, but with the way things are going, he’ll never know about Tommy, and Tommy will never meet his father either. The knowledge makes tears spring to my eyes, and my heart pulses with pain. But then Elisa interrupts again.
“So text your babysitter, okay? I think Mack Drummell is going to be at the party too, so I really want to go and I need a wingwoman.”
At that, I start laughing. Clearly, this is Elisa’s real motive for showing up at a boring departmental party.
“Okay,” I say. “I’ll text the babysitter and see,” is my promise.
“Good woman,” Elisa crows before turning to the front of the classroom as the lecturer walks in. This class is led by a female poet of some renown, and I try to focus as she launches into a discourse on New Wave feminist literature. Yet, I can’t think because I’m still dreaming of Roland, and know that I will dream of him for the rest of my life.
8
Aria
The departmental part is every bit as awful as Elisa promised. It’s being held in an empty classroom in Evans Hall, and the fluorescent lighting and desks bolted to the floor do not lend to a holiday atmosphere. At least the secretaries went wild with the decorations. There are red and green streamers everywhere, and a mini-Christmas tree in a one corner stacked with vivid presents wrapped in red and gold paper. My guess is that Santa, also known as Professor Lewis, will be making an appearance midway through the party to deliver gifts.
Elisa swans into the classroom, her brown hair done in a perfectly coiled chignon with ruby red lipstick painted in a smile.
“Did you style your hair in the bathroom?” I ask, befuddled. “Just now?”