Page 79 of Something Like Winter

“Regardless, I’d like to see,” Eric said. “If you don’t mind.”

Tim did mind. Sharing his paintings was a huge deal to him, but he thought he could trust Eric. “They’re all at my parents’ house. I haven’t painted in ages. A frat house isn’t the most inspirational environment. And I’m sort of private about the whole thing.”

“Oh.”

Eric sounded disappointed, so Tim was quick to add, “Next time I visit my folks, I’ll grab a few of the less embarrassing ones to show you.”

“That would be nice.”

The nurse barged in to the room with Tim’s lunch, and Eric headed to the cafeteria to fend for himself. In the afternoon, the doctor came in and finally cleared Tim for takeoff. Eric dialed a number on his cell phone and conjured up some plane tickets to get them home that evening. Tim felt even more in his debt, not that Eric seemed to expect the slightest hint of gratitude for what he was doing. But Tim would find a way to pay him back. If not financially, then somehow.

Chapter Eighteen

A new year always brought change, and Tim suspected most of that would happen at the frat house. Maybe that’s why he avoided returning to campus. He had only shown up once at night, shortly after he and Eric had returned, to pick up his car. It was there, no worse for wear. In fact, there was no sign Travis had driven it at all, which Tim found disappointing. A letter of some sort would have been nice, or maybe a lonely rose on the passenger seat or dried tears on the steering wheel. But there was nothing. Tim drove the car back to Eric’s house, where he stayed in one of the guest rooms.

Life was good for that solitary week. Eric cooked for him or took him out for dinner. In between meals they hung out around the house and talked or went for little walks in the neighborhood. Then New Year’s Eve came, with it one of Eric’s famous parties, and the calm serenity was chased away by drunken revelry.

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This fantasy life of luxury and wealth couldn’t go on forever. On the first of the year, Tim made an appearance at the frat house. No one questioned where he had been, since most of the brothers were still gone for the holidays. When Tim entered his room, he wasn’t surprised to see changes. His side was much the same, but the family photo was gone from Travis’s nightstand, replaced by a basketball trophy. A number of cardboard boxes were in various states of being unpacked.

A tall redheaded guy named Rick came in shortly afterwards. Tim had seen him around the house before, but didn’t know much about him. They made small talk before Tim wandered downstairs to hang out in the common room. A lot of the guys were smoking pot to cure their hangovers. Tim ignored them, sitting on the couch and staring blankly at the television until Quentin plopped down next to him.

“Hey, Little. Have a good holiday?”

Tim nodded. “Not bad. You?”

“My sister’s a bitch and my mom can’t cook. Same as every year.” Tim laughed, but mostly because he was expected to.

“Did you see Rick is your new roommate?”

“Yeah,” Tim turned his attention back to the television. Quentin dug in his pocket for his chewing tobacco. “Travis asked to

be reassigned the second he saw me. Looked sort of pissed.” Tim shrugged. “I guess I snore.”

“Is that it? He wouldn’t say.”

“I don’t know. He’s so damn quiet. It’ll be nice to have someone I

can actually talk to.”

“Yeah,” Quentin said after watching him a moment longer. “Travis is kind of reserved. I’m surprised he made it through hazing. Hey, did you get any last night?”

“Just your mom,” Tim said, laughing when Quentin slugged him. And just like that, the topic had blown over. A little casual banter was all it took.

Life returned to normal after that. Occasionally Tim saw Travis around the house, but they managed never to be in the same room. It was back to going to classes, getting ripped at parties, and hanging out with Eric on quiet nights when he wouldn’t be missed. Tim passed the rest of the winter this way, comfortable in the routine.

Until the day he saw her.

Tim had come from his boring Mechanics of Materials class, eager to get out into the spring weather, when he noticed his shoe was untied. Someone walked by him, singing to herself while he stooped and tied the lace, her tune vaguely familiar. When he stood, he saw a tall black woman further down the hall but didn’t think much about it until she looked back. Then he froze.

Allison Cross.

She was older, naturally, and even more beautiful. She could almost be a different woman, but the way her eyes widened slightly before she turned away from him gave her away.

“Hey!” Tim chased after her, nearly running to catch up. “Allison, wait!”

Allison stopped, looked up at the heavens, and sighed. Then she turned around to face him, cradling a couple books against her chest.