In Morganville, she'd have readied a weapon, but this wasn't Morganville. Defending herself wasn't quite that clear-cut. What if she staked some totally innocent person?
'Hey!' the man finally called to her, when he'd caught up to about twenty feet. 'Hey, Claire?'
She turned, still walking, and saw that it was one of the guys from the campus. Nick. There must have been something warning in her body language, because he slowed down and held up both hands, looking suddenly cautious. 'Sorry,' he said. 'It's me. Nick. I know, it's weird I'm following you because we just met, but ... I didn't want you walking by yourself, that's all.'
'Oh,' Claire said. She felt torn between continued suspicion and an intense desire to believe in someone's innocent intentions, for a change. Surely the entire world couldn't be that hideous, right? Yes, she'd had bad times; yes, guys she'd trusted had betrayed her. But it wasn't right to assume that everybody was like that. 'Oh, well, thanks. What about Viva?'
'She's hanging with my crew, headed for the dorm. Not that I actually have a crew, per se, but more of a horde. Possibly a gaggle. So, you're new, right? First year?'
'Yes,' she said.
'Already living off campus, though?'
'Well ... it was probably a mistake. The dorms seem fun.'
'It's epic adventure,' Nick agreed soberly. 'Maybe you're not up for it.'
She almost laughed. 'Yeah, that's me. I'm terrified.'
He smiled, and fell in step with her. A comfortable distance away, a gentleman's distance, nothing intrusive. 'You don't seem like the wallflower type.'
It felt so natural and friendly that it came as a shock to her when she suddenly thought, I think he's flirting with me. Is he? Am I flirting back? I shouldn't be, should I? It was confusing and strange, and for a perilous second, some rebellious part of her thought, Why shouldn't I? I came here to stretch my wings. Well. This is stretching.
'I'm pretty shy,' Claire said. 'Really, I am.'
'I could tell by the way you dragged Viva over and announced her to the world. So, what's your major?'
The inevitable college question. She didn't hesitate. 'Physics.'
Nick seemed pleased, not daunted - another difference between MIT and, well, everywhere else. 'You don't just get to say physics. I mean, what flavour? Chocolate, vanilla, applied, theory ...'
'A little of both.'
'I hate to be the one to break it to you, but I'm pretty sure there's no "little of both" major. You don't know yet, do you?' When she didn't answer, he shrugged and stuck his hands in his jeans pockets. 'It's okay. According to the literature, people change around. Probably good to give it some thought before you commit.'
That's why I'm here, she almost said. To give it some thought. It was about so much more than her choice of study, but she didn't know how to say that, and she didn't really want to give him the wrong idea. 'What's yours?'
'My major? Mechanical engineering, emphasis in robotics. Second year. Haven't flunked me out so far.'
'Do you think it's possible to take a human brain and wire it up to control a computer?'
He missed a step, but only one, and said, 'Ah, I get it, you're asking me a classic Trek question. "Spock's Brain", right? Where the planet of women grabbed Spock, removed his brain and stuck it in a machine to power their systems?'
'I-' She had no idea what he was talking about; she'd watched some Star Trek but not the old episodes. Her parents had been kids when those were on. 'Uh, I guess so.'
'Geek cred points for trying to stump me, but sorry, you'll have to do better than that. Would you like to try anime for a hundred?' When she looked blank, he sighed. 'What took it down, anime, or the Jeopardy reference?'
'Jeopardy, I guess. I know a little about anime.'
'A little about it? Girl, we need to get you on a study programme, fast. You're not going to last a week around here if you can't keep up with the pop culture references. How about Lord of the Rings? Firefly? Doctor Horrible? No? Clearly, we have a lot of work to do.'
He chattered on, and it was warm and funny and sweet and for a change, not at all life and death drama. She lost track of time and progress, and all of a sudden she realised they'd walked right past the steps to her row house apartment. She turned and backtracked, and gave Nick an apologetic smile.
'Ah. The old homestead, I perceive. Well, I did my Guy Duty - you're okay from here?'
'Yeah, I'm okay,' she said. She glanced up. Elizabeth's windows were dark; she'd already gone to bed. 'I should probably-'
'Go, yeah, you should. So just ... see you around, then?'
'I'll see you around, Nick.'
'Goodnight, Claire.' She gave him another smile, and he returned it, and took a few steps away before he turned back toward her, pulling out his phone. 'Okay, this is probably way out of line, and feel free to Xena Warrior Princess my ass, but can I-?' He waved the phone at her, and he looked so puppy-dog cute that she almost said yes.
'I can't,' she said, quietly. 'Sorry. I've got a boyfriend.'
'Oh. Oh, right, of course you do. What was I thinking? Sorry.'
'No, don't be - look, I'm sorry. I guess I was just - I shouldn't have let you think that. I was just lonely, you know?'
'I know lonely. Lonely is a good friend of mine. No harm, Claire. I'm not going to go curl up in a fetal ball and cry for more than, you know, six hours, max.' He flashed her a ridiculously funny smile, and she laughed in return. 'See you around, then.'
'See you.'
He walked off, hands in his pockets, all loose angles and baggy jeans. The only thing he and Shane had in common, she thought, was the confidence. Shane could sling a casual nerd reference, but Nick probably couldn't string together more than a few sentences without one; Shane knew his way around a fight, and Claire was fairly certain that she could take Nick with one hand tied behind her back. Maybe two.
And yet, there was that traitorous little tingle of interest. Probably just because he represented everything that wasn't Morganville - a normal world, where the biggest thing most people had to worry about was the latest episode of their favourite show, or whether or not a girl would give up her phone number for a winning smile.
She liked that world. She just wasn't sure that she was part of it ... or ever would be. That was, Claire realised, what Nick represented to her: a world where a guy could just be amusing and interesting and funny, and not fight for his life every day against overwhelming odds. A life with a home, and kids, and just the usual, mundane worries.
No vampires and monsters. No wonder she felt some tingle of attraction.
Claire unlocked the front door, smiling quietly to herself, feeling oddly relaxed now, off her guard, and when she heard the scrape of footsteps behind her she turned, still smiling, and said, 'Nick, I thought-'
It wasn't Nick.
She didn't know this guy. He was tall, broad-shouldered, handsome in a heavy kind of way that was probably going to turn unpleasant on him in a few years. He was Monica Morrell's type, she thought, and all that went through her head in the same second as her threat assessment. No gun, no knife, but he carried himself as if he was ready to move at her, and alerts flashed red somewhere deep inside her.
She braced, ready to move.
'Hi,' he said, and stopped a few steps below her, but blocking the way down. 'So, you're Liz's new roommate, right? She said she had an old friend moving in with her. I'm Derrick.'
'Derrick,' she repeated. Liz hadn't mentioned him, but then, that didn't necessarily spell trouble. Nevertheless, Claire edged one foot into the doorway, and calculated ahead what her body needed to do next in a hurry. Shift weight, swing right, complete the turn, slam the door, lock it. It was a one, maybe one-and-a-half second movement. Derrick didn't look that fast, but she'd been fooled before. 'If you're looking for Liz, I think she's already asleep.'
'No problem,' he said. 'I'm not coming in. Just wanted to say hi.'
'Hi,' Claire said, without any warmth; she still felt weird about this. She didn't like being doorstepped, especially by someone with that odd look in his eyes. 'Look, it's late. Sorry, I don't mean to be rude, but I-'
He held up his hands, but somehow, she didn't take it as an apology, or a sign of surrender. 'No problem. Just wanted to find out what your name was.'
'Claire,' she said. 'Goodnight.'
She kept her eyes on him as she stepped inside, closed the door, and shot the bolts. For the first time, she was grateful for all the locks. Derrick didn't move, at least until the door closed, but she felt a weird tension in him, as if every muscle was shaking with the desire to rush her.
Claire slid aside the small metal flap over the peephole and looked out.
Derrick's face loomed huge, right there, staring as if he'd known she'd do it. She let out an involuntary gasp, let the flap slip down, and backed away until she bumped into the stairs. Honestly, she'd faced down vampires on her doorstep, and they generally weren't that creepy.