In the distance, she heard a door bang shut and assumed that her ex-roommate had taken her ex-lover’s advice and fled through the entrance that led to the back of campus, near Greek Row and away from the quad. A few other students came down the stairs and Kristi headed back up, plucking the phone from her pocket as she stepped outside. “You there?” she whispered, all the while jogging in place.

Jay didn’t answer.

She realized then that the call had been dropped. “Great.”

It didn’t happen often, but when it did it was always, it seemed, at an inopportune moment. Just like in the commercials. Quickly she redialed Jay.

“What the hell happened?” he demanded, sounding frantic.

“Couldn’t you hear?”

“What?”

“Never mind, I’ll fill you in later.”

“I’m on my way over there.”

She searched the darkness, looking toward the library, but didn’t recognize him in the groups of people hastening from one building to the next.

“Wait. I haven’t gone in yet. Grotto had company. I’ll tell you about it later. Where are you?”

“Just leaving the library.” She squinted and recognized him hastening down the wide steps. He walked briskly under the security lights toward the English Department. Lamplight caught in his hair and she saw his expression was hard and intense.

“Good, then you can wait inside the doors of the English Department.”

“Unless you want me closer. Like on the other side of the door to his office?”

“Only if you hear me say, ‘I’m in trouble.’ Then you can play Rambo to your heart’s content.”

He was now close enough to her that she knew he was looking at her. She gave him a little wave, then hurried into the brick building once more and down the steps. Before Jay could argue, she hit the mute button again, tucked the phone in her pocket and, glancing up at the clock in the hallway, noted that it was almost ten minutes after her scheduled meeting. No time to lose. Not if she wanted to catch Grotto. Kicking it up a gear, she hurried down the hallway, half running, as if she were trying to make up for lost time.

Rounding the corner, she spied Dr. Grotto at the door to his office, locking up. Dressed in black slacks, T-shirt, and jacket, holding his briefcase in one hand, he looked ready to split.

“Oh! Dr. Grotto, I’m so sorry I’m late,” she said in a rush, hoping her cheeks were flushed. “I had a phone call from my dad, and he held me up.” She rolled her eyes. “He’s just a little overprotective.” Breathlessly she managed an apologetic smile. “I had to tell him I had an important meeting with you to get him off the phone.”

“Unfortunately, I, too, have another meeting,” Grotto said. Probably a lie, but she had no choice but to let it slide.