“Apparently he’s new. Flown in fresh from Charlotte.”
“Well, thank you, Olivia. That’s actually really helpful. And, hey, thank Alex for me too.”
“You can thank him yourself today in Advanced Social Psychology,” she smiled. “Which Dr. Greenfield is teaching and I believe starts in a little over an hour, so we should probably get a move on.”
I looked down at my coffee and slowly swirled the spoon around. There was one question that had been plaguing me since I got off the phone with Cassandra last night. Something I had been putting off talking about. Something I was going to find the answer out to soon enough.
“Hey, Olivia?” I asked, my voice cracking slightly. “Do you know if Michael is in this class?”
“Here we go, again,” Amalia stood with her arms across her chest and slowly scanned the room.
The old, rustic-looking classroom was packed to the brim with students. They appeared to be scrambling to say hello to each other after only a short three months apart. Everyone was broken up into their respective cliques. There were the hipsters, the wannabe Blair Waldorf’s, the Adderall addicts, the annoying people who always began their emails with “I hope this email finds you well!” and the 4.0’s, who barely conversed with anyone who couldn’t further their academic achievement.
Needless to say, there was a lot of energy in the air.
Amalia clutched her purse close to her chest and kept her blonde head down. Her jaw was tight and her shoulders were slouched. She was wearing silver sandals, skinny jeans, a low-cut light- blue tank top, and a fitted black blazer. She looked half professional, and half Weekend at Bernie’s. I noticed her lagging behind and I dragged her down the ramp of the exact same auditorium-sized classroom we had all colonized last year.
“Hey, I think I see Alex,” she said, pointing to a small group of people in the front of the classroom.
I craned my neck toward the front of the room and spotted him. He was wearing the new Burberry polo shirt I had got him as a surprise gift last week. I smiled widely and he caught my eye. Since Amalia had been staying with me the past few days, I barely had an opportunity to see him. Alex patted the guy he was talking to on the back and made his way over to us.
“Hey darlin’.” He bent down and kissed me on the forehead. Then on the lips. “You look great today.”
“Hey, yourself,” I said through a wide grin. I pulled him in for a hug and took the opportunity to breathe deeply through my nose, silently losing myself in a warm embrace of what smelled like cedar wood and rich nutmeg. When it was over, I turned to Amalia, who was currently engaged in an eye roll.
“Hastings, good to see you,” Alex said, with as much diplomacy as he could muster.
Amalia smiled tightly. Her red lip-gloss stretched perfectly over her lips.
I gave Amalia my best “be nice” look.
“How are you?” she asked, still smiling.
“I’m great!” he said, “Now don’t just stand there, give me a hug.”
Amalia’s small frame disappeared next to Alex as he pulled her in for an awkward hug. She recoiled slightly, but he didn’t let go for a few seconds. I tried not to laugh.
“This class is packed,” I said, trying to break the tension. I looked around and spotted my friend Angela. We hit it off last year, but she was someone I had only one class with and I hadn’t gotten an opportunity to introduce her to anyone else yet. I noticed she was talking to some guy, but still decided to call her name out from halfway across the room.
“Hey, Angie!” I waved at her and smiled brightly.
She picked her head up and looked around the room for a minute. Realizing it was me calling her, she grabbed the guy she was talking to and made a beeline over to us. As she came closer I could see she was wearing a long, light-pink dress that looked great on her dark skin, her dark- brown hair hung straight down to the middle of her back, and she finished her look off with lots of long gold necklaces and chunky bracelets. The guy walking next to her was wearing suede loafers, dark jeans, and a blue-striped, button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up. His head was down in a book, most likely getting a head start with the reading for this class. I couldn’t tell who she was with; all I could make out was his brown hair.
“Who’s that girl?” Amalia asked, craning her neck to get a better look.
“Angela Edwards,” I explained. “She was in my Readings in Behavioral Sciences class last year. She’s really nice, you’ll like her.”
I smiled and reached out for Alex’s hand. As I did, he pulled me in closer to whisper something in my ear.
“Did you know Angela and Michael have been hanging out?” he whispered.
Before I could answer him, I turned to Amalia, who had realized a few seconds before I did that the guy Angie was walking over with was none other than Michael Rathbourne. Amalia’s face froze. Her eyes were slightly widened and her mouth was tightly shut. She looked around the room for a few seconds, as if she was deciding what she should do. After a hard look at the exit doors, she finally settled for taking a small step back and then looking down at her feet.
“Guess that answers your question,” she muttered to the floor.
I had no idea what Amalia was going to do next. Sure, last year she had pined for Michael in an annoying and slightly self-destructive way. But to her credit, he did give her an evasive “stay here with me and help me figure things out” offer right before she left for Brazil, which she rightfully turned down. I was proud of her for that one. All I could hope for her was that the time she spent away helped to shed some light on what Michael really was. Selfish.
“Hey, Olivia!” Angie said, pulling me in for a hug. “Do you know my friend, Michael?” Her hazel eyes sparkled.
Amalia winced. But only subtly.
“Excuse me? Your friend Michael?” Alex said with a grin. “How’s it going, man?” He turned to Michael and patted him on the back.
“It’s going well, Alex”, he said, returning Alex’s pat on the back with one of his own. “Yourself?”
“So, I take it by all of the hugging, that you guys know each other?” Angie laughed. She tossed back her long, dark-brown hair and smiled widely, flashing her perfectly straight teeth.
“We all had classes together last year,” Amalia finally spoke. Michael looked straight at Amalia, but her eyes were fixed on Angela. “What did you say your name was? Andrea?”
“Angela,” she said warmly, unaware of Amalia’s little dig at her by pretending to forget her name. “But you can just call me Angie.” She stuck out her right hand and waited for Amalia to return the gesture.
“I’m Amalia,” she said through a tight jaw. Her expression was completely empty. She shook hands with Angela and then returned her arms to their guarded position.
“So, Amalia,” Michael started. “How’ve you been?” He bent down a bit to fix his eyes on Amalia’s face. It felt like an intimate exchange, but she appeared indifferent to his warm welcome.
Alex and I exchanged a quick glance and he lightly squeezed my hand. I had to admit, watching them interact kind of made me wish I had a bowl of popcorn in front of me.
Amalia smiled and stood up a little straighter. She held her blonde curls up like a crown on top of her head. “Me? I’m great.”