And yet the fact that he’d basically ignored her had bothered her more than she wanted to admit. But then, she knew she was about to fix that, for like it or not, she had to approach Jay, talk to him, engage him and hopefully enlist his help.

“That should be a lot of fun,” she said to herself.

Her other quandary was more difficult to deal with, she thought as she found a jacket and threw it on. For the past ten days, off and on, Kristi had caught glimpses of Ariel O’Toole, Lucretia’s friend. Once at the bookstore, another time in the student union, a third time near Wagner House, and each and every time Kristi had seen the girl, Ariel was pale, washed out, her skin the color of cold ashes.

Was she ill?

Or about to meet with an accident?

Or was this all a figment of Kristi’s imagination?

No one else seemed to notice. Could Ariel’s appearance be all in her mind? Very much like the death she was certain she’d seen in her father’s features time and time again? Should she approach Ariel? Talk to her? Mention it to Lucretia?

She frowned at that thought as she stuffed her cell phone into her purse. If she told anyone about her newfound ability to predict a person’s death, she’d be considered a kook. And did she have any proof of this “gift”? Well, a little. One woman she’d seen on a bus who’d turned gray before her eyes had died a week later. But then she’d been, according to the obituary, when Kristi had looked it up, ninety-four.

She tried to shake off her worries but she didn’t even have time to relax. On today’s schedule was Creative Writing with Dr. Preston, another hunky instructor. He had the looks of the quintessential California surfer dude, complete with shaggy blond hair and hard, sculpted body, which he didn’t bother to disguise in his tight jeans and old T-shirts. During class he had the habit of pacing across the room, looking at the class, all the while tossing a piece of chalk up in the air and catching it. He never broke stride, never quit lecturing, and never dropped the piece of chalk, which he kept at the ready in case he had to scribble some inspiration on the chalkboard before starting his pacing again. Ezma had labeled him rude, but he was definitely eye-candy.