Viva didn't. And Claire realised with a jolt that the kid was young - younger than her, or the others in the group. Not much younger, but enough to matter and cripple her with self-consciousness. 'Hey,' Claire said to her. 'So, where are you from, Viva?'
'Iowa,' she said. 'Rockwell City. You probably never heard of it.'
True, she hadn't. 'Is it nice?'
'Not like this. I mean, this is-' Viva flapped a hand around them, helpless to describe it. 'Different. It's great, and I thought I knew what I was getting into, but it's so-'
'Real,' Claire said. She knew how it felt. 'Bigger than you.'
'Yeah.' Viva clutched her binders closer, like a magic shield. 'It's a lot of pressure, and classes haven't even started. I just feel-'
'Alone?'
Viva nodded, looking ashamed. 'They all seem so comfortable already.'
'I wish I could help you, but I'm not living in the dorm. Wait - maybe I can help.' Claire grabbed Viva's arm and towed her sideways, aiming for a laughing mixed group of girls and boys; they seemed friendly, and she liked the T-shirt one of them was wearing. It meant he had a good sense of humour, at least. 'Hey, guys? This is Viva. I've got to take off, but could you make sure she gets back to the dorm okay? I'm Claire, by the way. Claire Danvers.'
'Hey,' the boy in the T-shirt said. He had messy, curly hair that flopped in his eyes, and a million-dollar smile. 'I'm Nick Salazar. This nutcase is Oded, that's Jenny, Amanda, Trent ...' He reeled off names as if he'd known them all his life, though Claire was pretty sure he'd just met them. 'Nice to meet you guys. Viva, right? Cool name.'
'Thanks,' she said. She looked scared, but determined.
'Hey, you need a bag,' Jenny said, and dug in her backpack to come up with a tote with the MIT logo. 'Try this. What room are you in?'
'Screw that, the question at hand is what's your major?' Oded said. 'Because let me just tell you right now, any answer other than World of Warcraft or Advanced Ninja Studies will not be accepted.'
'Fight Club,' Viva said. Oded considered, and offered her a fist bump. She took it.
'I stand corrected,' he said. 'She just levelled up.'
Claire wanted to stay with them - wanted it so badly she could taste it. The easy, silly friendship reminded her of what she'd left behind, and she craved it ... but she really did need to talk to Shane. So she drifted off, and Viva - deep into the conversation now - hardly noticed her departure. Claire jogged off to a trail that led to Stratton Student Centre. It was, at this hour, not very busy; she found a quiet table, acquired mocha, and sat down with her phone.
Then she dialled Michael's phone.
'Hey.' Shane's voice was dark and warm and deep, and she sank into it as if it were a blanket. 'You okay, tough girl?'
'I am now,' she said. It wasn't quiet where he was; she heard a rumble, maybe wheels. 'Are you driving?'
'I'm mobile, yep. You know me, always moving, like a shark. I'm restless without you.'
'I miss you,' she said. She leant against the wall. 'I really miss you, Shane.'
'How much?'
She laughed. 'Not enough to tell you in public, especially while you're driving.'
'Damn, there goes my chance for some hot sexy talk.'
His voice just did things to her, she realised ... made her feel warm and liquid inside, made her think all kinds of things she probably shouldn't be picturing out here in front of food court staff. 'I hate my housemate,' she said, to change the subject to something safer.
'Elizabeth? I thought she was your best friend in high school.'
'She was. In high school. But-'
'She changed? Yeah, that happens. Look what happened to Michael.'
'Shane!'
He laughed again, low in his throat. 'Kidding, Claire. I'm just saying people change. If you're not there for it, it's not always easy to adjust to it, right? Which is why I hate this. I hate missing your life. I hate missing those little moments that change you. Because they're going to change us.'
He was right, but ... but also, not. 'I need to change a little on my own,' she said. 'Shane, I love you, and I want to be with you, but I need to breathe, too. I need to fly a little and see how far I can go. That's why I took this chance. It's not forever. It's just a while.'
'Maybe a short while if your housemate drives you crazy. What's she doing?'
'Let me see ... she's a drama queen, and not in a fun way; she's controlling; she's OCD; she's passive-aggressive ...'
'You had me at drama queen. I have got to meet this chick.'
'No, you really don't, trust me. She used to be fun and nerdy, but now - now she's so self-consciously not, you know? She's working so hard to be cool that she's uncool. I think maybe she had a bad relationship.'
'Roger that. Seen too many tragic examples. You know, the ones in the hipster hats who try looking like some unholy love child of Jack White and Ashton Kutcher?'
'I learnt a new word today.'
'Which is?'
'Fidiot.'
'Ah, you're so cute. You didn't know that word? You know what it stands for, right?'
She lowered her voice to a whisper. 'Fucking idiot?'
'I love that you have to make that much of an effort to curse. Like you're worried you might scar somebody. Seriously, it's adorable. So, been attacked by any vampires yet?'
'Not a one.'
'Zombies? Giant spiders? Water monsters?'
'It's been really quiet on the supernatural attack front.'
'Too bad, 'cause I got attacked by a devil dog. It was not awesome.'
'A what?'
'A big-ass dog with glowing red eyes. Trust me. You do not want to face a pack of these bad boys. Makes wolves look like teacup poodles.'
'But you're okay, right?'
'Yeah,' he said, altogether too lightly. 'I'm okay. Nothing but bruises. The cops - and I guess, vampires - are taking care of our devil dog problem. Nothing to worry about, trust me. We'll be okay. Aren't we always?'
'Almost always.' She swallowed a lump in her throat, because the confidence in his voice had made her feel unexpectedly frightened. 'Please, Shane - don't get cocky, okay?'
'Oh, now you want to do sexy talk?'
'I'm serious! Please. Please.' The image she most remembered right now was of him floating in a tank of murky water, bleeding ... dying, at the hands of enemies of the vampires. And it terrified her. 'I hate it that I'm safe here, and you're ...'
'Swimming in an ocean of danger, with sharks? Hey, it's what manly men do. That, and wrestle rabid badgers.'
He was being flippant, and it killed her. 'Shane!'
He was quiet for a long moment, and then he said, 'Are you okay, Claire?'
'Yes - I - I-' She took a deep breath. On the wall across from her was a poster promoting delicious bagels, and she focused in on the colours, the shapes, and tried to clear all the frantic noise from her mind. 'I'm okay. Let me know when you get your new phone - can I call you on this one until then?'
'If you want.' He seemed pleased about that. 'I know you're getting settled and all, but maybe I can call around this time at night? Would that work?'
'Yeah. That works.'
'Because I don't want to miss a day with you.' She was silent, not because she disagreed, but because she was overcome with a wave of emotion so strong she couldn't get the words out. He mistook it for something else, because he hurried on, tone turning more impersonal. 'So, yeah, I've gotta hit it. Talk to you tomorrow, right?'
'Right,' she managed to choke out.
'Is it pushing you to tell you I love you?'
'No.' It wasn't a wave of emotion, it was a sea, and she was drowning in it. 'Love you.' That was all she could manage. She hung up the call, and burst into hot, hard tears. She struggled to keep them quiet, but she knew everybody could tell what was going on. Just another sad, homesick, lonely freshman having a breakdown. Great.
It felt good, though, in a weird way. Six coarse food court napkins later, the storm passed, and she was left with a weary, empty ache inside, but an equally empty brain. Her eyes felt swollen, and she knew she looked a mess, but sometimes ... sometimes the emotions were just too big to hold.
She tossed her trash, avoided the glances of other students, and started the walk home. The row house she shared with Elizabeth wasn't that far - about six blocks, about the same distance she'd walked from Texas Prairie University to her old home at the Glass House. She spotted some students walking, and most had earbuds in, rocking out as they strolled, but she couldn't even think about that ... Morganville had taught her to pay attention, or else.
So she was aware within the first block that someone was following her.
He started out far back, but no matter how fast her pace, he steadily closed the distance. Claire caught glimpses of him in blurry glass windows, but she couldn't tell much about him, except that he was taller than she was (wasn't everybody?) and broader, too. Not Shane's size, not nearly, but big enough, if he meant her harm.