Part 21 (1/2)

For some reason, he thought that was even funnier, and he leaned on his car and let out a giant belly laugh. After a few moments, he got himself together. ”Should we call anyone?”

I shook my head. ”Leave it ... you're not blocking the other spots. We'll sort it out tomorrow. It's too late, and wet and cold right now.”

He nodded. ”All right,” he said. ”I guess I'd better get over to the T.”

Impulsively, I said, ”Come on. Not in this. I'm in Cabot Hall, right over there.”

”Won't you get in trouble having a guy in your room?”

”Not really. Not that anyone would notice, anyway.”

He shrugged, and we trudged through the snow toward Cabot. He stopped for a minute, turning away from the wind and cupping his hand at his mouth to s.h.i.+eld his lighter from the wind and light a cigarette. Then he turned his face up toward the snow and ice, a grin on his face. ”I love storms,” he said.

”Come on,” I said. ”I'm freezing. And ... to be clear ... this is not an invitation.”

He grinned and said, ”It sounded like you were asking me up to your room.”

”I am. But I'm not ... d.a.m.n it.”

He laughed. ”I'll be nice.”

”Seriously.”

He nodded. ”I get it, all right? No touching, kissing, groping, snogging, s.h.a.gging. None of it.”

He was ridiculous.

The Quad was covered in snow, and scattered with students playing and having s...o...b..ll fights. It was getting late, but not late enough to put them to bed yet. I narrowly avoided a flying s...o...b..ll.

”Looks like fun,” Crank said, eyeing me.

I shook my head. ”I don't like snow, I told you that.”

He gave a dramatic sigh, and we kept walking toward the front steps, finally stopping at the door and kicking the snow off our feet. My feet felt like blocks of ice inside my boots, and I couldn't stop s.h.i.+vering.

”Raw out there,” he said.

I nodded, still trying to get some blood circulation back into my feet. I scanned the large ground floor common room. There were a few students in here, people I knew, but not well. ”Come on,” I said, leading him across the hall to the stairs. It's not that I didn't want people to see us going upstairs together.

Okay, that's not true. I didn't want people to see us going upstairs together. I didn't want to be the object of gossip or discussion. My life was n.o.body's business. If I wanted to take Crank onto the roof and give him a b.l.o.w. .j.o.b in the snow, that was my business, not theirs. But that's not the way things worked in my life ... never had been.

I led him to the back stairs, then up six flights of stairs and down the hall to the suite.

And, of course, this would be the first Sat.u.r.day ever that Linden and Adriana and Jemi were all still in the room. And from the looks of the casual clothes and pajamas, they weren't planning on going anywhere. The three of them were all curled up in chairs around the coffee table, drinking hot chocolate and playing cards.

Of course, my entry with a guy wasn't going to go unnoticed. My entrance with Crank Wilson, who they all knew, both from his band and his reputation-that was something else entirely.

Adriana jerked up straight in her seat, practically shoving her b.o.o.bs on display. Linden's eyes opened wide, and Jemi just slightly raised on eyebrow.

”Um ... hey,” I said, suddenly very uncomfortable. ”Um ... Crank ... this is Linden, and Adriana, and Jemi. My suitemates. Guys, this is my friend, Crank.”

”What's doin'?” Crank said, nodding at them. As usual, he had a smirk on his face, which I wanted nothing more than to punch right at that moment.

The girls burst into speech, and I let it float by. It was all nonsense anyway.

”So, um ...” I said, having no idea where to go with this. ”We're off to bed.”

Crank winked at them. I grabbed his hand and pulled him toward my room, and as I closed the door, I heard a flurry of whispers. G.o.d only knows what they were saying. I sure didn't want to know.

CHAPTER ELEVEN.

Never trust again (Crank) Julia didn't say a word as she pulled me into her room. She let go of my hand, shut the door, and then shrugged out of her coat.

Her room was big for a dorm, about ten feet to a side, with a large window overlooking the Quad. Outside, I could still see college students playing in the snow. She had a decent sized desk with her PowerBook on it, papers stacked high next to the laptop. A long, low bookshelf extended the entire length of the wall underneath the window. Except for the desk and the bookshelf, the room was sterile. Nothing on the walls. No pictures. It looked like she was ready to move out tomorrow. Weird.

The shelves were interesting, though. Textbooks, and what looked to be primarily fantasy and sci-fi novels. Never been my thing, but I recognized a bunch of them. Sean had a lot of the same books. Which got me to thinking about her sitting in his room, and the discussion I'd overheard. I'd never heard him speak that way: openly.

”You never said where you got Sean's gift,” I said. ”Do you read that stuff?”

”Manga?” she asked. ”No. But I know a guy on the second floor who's nuts for it. He took me to a shop over in Somerville to help me pick something out.”

”I know the place. Sean makes me take him there sometimes. It was ... it was a nice gift. Really thoughtful.”

She sat down in a big, overstuffed chair and started unlacing her boots. ”Thanks. I wasn't sure if it was the right thing or not.”

”You couldn't have picked anything better ... but, can I ask you a question?”

She shrugged and went back to unlacing the boots. ”Sure.”

”I've never seen anyone connect with my brother so quickly. How?”

”I just treated him like a person.”

That was useless, and I answered defensively. ”You're saying I don't?”

She shook her head slowly, setting her boots down next to the chair. She had tiny little feet. ”No, I'm not saying that. But ... no offense, but you and your mom and dad? You seem like you're so wrapped up in his Asperger's that you can't see anything else.”

I exhaled, suddenly, and slumped into the chair at her desk. She was right. We were all wrapped up in his Asperger's, and it hurt to hear him saying he wished Mom could love him for who he is. Because we all had that problem.

”You think that's part of his problem?”

”I don't know, Crank. But ... it can't be easy to have that much pressure on you, all the time. That's how I live sometimes, and it sucks.”

I sighed and looked out the window. The snow was still coming down hard. ”I don't get how you see it so clearly. And obviously you do, since it worked.”

She shook her head. ”I'm good at watching people. But listen ... it's been ... an incredibly long night. And ... I need to go to sleep. Okay? Do you mind?”