A week later, I sat at the library desk, checking out books to one student after another. Finals were in a couple weeks, and everyone was scrambling to get their term papers done last minute. After a less than savory week, I was happy to be designated to just checking out books. I was tired of fixing the printer and copy machines. Sometimes I couldn't tell if people were just breaking them constantly to get on my nerves.
On Monday, I wore the new clothes Jenna got me, but after girls kept pointing and snickering at me, I reverted back to my old habits, too embarrassed to keep up the charade.
"C'mon, Phillip!" Jenna wailed. "It's a good thing! You look cute!" I bit my lip at the lunch table in the student union and looked over at Clark for help.
"She's right. The clothes do help your image a lot. You've been getting a lot more looks today. Just try it out for the week, Phillip," Clark told me. He patted me on the shoulder as I tucked my head into my chest. More girls passed us, pointing at me, and I couldn't help but not want their attention.
Jenna leaned toward me, "I thought you wanted a girlfriend, Phillip?"
I looked up briefly at her, "I don't know Jenna. All the attention is freaking me out." It was, freaking me out. I had no idea how to handle it. What I thought that I wanted and what I was feeling right now was entirely at odds.
The next day I arrived back the way I usually dressed, baggy jeans, oversized plaid button-down, torn-up shoes. My hair remained the same knotty mess as always.
The rest of the week went on as usual. I went to class, listened to Jenna and Clark as they railed me about not wearing my new clothes. I fixed way too many copy and printer issues. After a while, I lost count of the things I did.
I was more than happy to be behind this desk, dressed shabbily, grabbing no one's attention. I felt more at peace that way, which was good because I felt anything but peace every night when I went home. Every night, I bit my lip as I looked at the bookmark given to me by the man at the bar. Every night I played through the scenario in my mind of how I was going to approach him this Friday. How I was going to talk to him.
Now that he had officially acknowledged my presence, he would talk to me, right?
A book flew into my face from across the desk, "I need to check this out, please." I looked up to see Samantha Peterson from my Anthropology class waving a copy of the class textbook in front of my face. She'd been checking the thing out all semester, refusing to buy it. I wondered why. Her family was well off enough.
I remember the first day I sat next to her in class. She'd huffed at me, told me poor people should feel privileged to sit by her. I stayed silent beside her, pen in hand, my notebook on the desk as she took out her computer, flipping her long brown hair over her shoulder, hitting me in the face with it. When I didn't react, she'd turned to me with wide bright green eyes, expertly mascaraed and eyelinered, and said, "Why are you so close to me? Seriously, move over!" I shifted in my seat a little. She huffed again.
The two of us sat in class next to each other all year, our only interactions solidified by, "My computer died. I need paper and a pen. Ugh, I forgot my homework, do you have an extra copy? Shit! I forgot to study," then side-eyeing my paper for the next two hours during the midterm.
I forced a smile, looking up at her highlighted brown hair and made-up face. "Of course."
Samantha tapped her foot at me, "Hurry up already. I have shit to do."
I beeped her book into the system, rechecking it out to her for the tenth time. Really there should be a limit. I handed the book back to her, trying not to grimace. She was pretty, but her personality was horrible. "Thanks," she said, pursing her lips, then left. I silently thanked whatever god there was out there that Samantha hadn't prattled on about how crap I looked like she always did.
"Alright, Phillip, your off," my boss said. I glanced over at Tom, waved goodbye, grabbed my literature textbook, and headed out.
The air outside bit into the skin of my face as I emerged into the cold. One look at the sky told me that in a few minutes, I could expect rain. It was less than bright here in Dover. One day I planned to move out of Delaware altogether. Somewhere sunny would be better. With my background as a literary major, I could get a job nearly anywhere. I would like to be a librarian someday. Just not here.
I pulled my flannel shirt around myself, cursing my lack of forethought this morning for not bringing a hooded jacket. The rain began to pour. I held my world literature book tighter to my chest, hiding the bookmark inside of its pages. It was a ten-minute walk to the parking garage where my car was located. I had planned to go to the bar tonight, as I had every Friday night, but the weather was miserable. Clark and Jenna had canceled on me on account of it just a few minutes ago. Their text said they were sorry, but it was supposed to flood tonight. I gritted my teeth as I continued to move forward through the rain.
The rain fell harder , becoming more like sleet than water. I picked up my pace, wanting badly to get back to my car. I passed the student union, turning towards the law building. I had at least seven more minutes to go. I was already soaked. My tangled hair became heavy where my hair was tied in a bun at the back of my head. I glanced up saw the sky was littered with dark clouds. Lightning flashed, then not long after, thunder rolled. I tucked my head down, striding faster now. Only five more minutes to go.
My thoughts suddenly trailed off as I hit something hard. I fell back instantly, slipping on the icy concrete. My tailbone crunched under me, my literature book flew several feet away from me. And my glasses? They were nowhere to be found.
"Are you alright?" a soft, male voice said above me.
Shit! I smacked into a person! I should have been watching where I was going. "Yeah, sorry I wasn't watching where I was going."
I didn't look up. Instead, I searched the ground for my glasses. I was nearly blind without them, the world one big blur. Even if I tried to look up at who I bumped into, I wouldn't have been able to see him clearly.
"Here," the man above me extended a hand, "let me help you."
I tried to refuse, but a gloved hand reached down and grasped me steadily by the hand and pulled me up, the other hand under my arm to steady me. "Thanks," I said. "Really, I'm sorry." I looked around desperately for my glasses, but it was no use.
"Let me," the man said again. He took several steps away from me as I apologized over and over again. I mopped the wet hair off my face, only seeing a dark, blurry figure in front of me. "Here you go," he handed me my textbook, which was thankfully a hardback. It wasn't too wet. "Stay there, let me find your glasses for you...ah!" he exclaimed. "Found them."
I bit my bottom lip, embarrassed that I had rammed full force into someone, even more so that I had flung my belongings everywhere and was entirely helpless to gather them myself as I was blind without the one thing that I needed most.
"Here you go," he said. I held out my hand to take them, balancing the book against my chest as I did so. To my surprise, they didn't land in my hand. Instead, they slid gently onto the bridge of my nose and the bows of them behind my ears. I blinked, realizing they had been wiped off. The rain was slightly less aggressive now, only tiny drops falling down on them. I looked down at the gloved hand that pushed the bridge up my nose, then at the face above me.
The man was pale. His hair was long and dark, slick with rainwater. His eyes were a deep brown flecked with bright burgundy. I noted that the color was odd. He flashed a smile at me as he pulled away. My breath caught. I looked around briefly, trying to understand why he was here on campus in the evening instead of at the bar. He was always at the bar. I swallowed hard as I realized I had just smacked headfirst into the man who had given me the bookmark.
"Are you okay?" he asked me.
I blinked rapidly, trying not to sound stupid. I tried to speak. It took me several times to get anything out. "I think so, yeah. I'm sorry for crashing into you. Really I am. Why are you here?"
The man looked as if he was going to crack up as he gazed down at me. He had to be over six feet tall now that I was face to face with him. My height couldn't even compare. There was also something ominous about him now that he was up close.
He opened his mouth to speak, "I was looking for...someone. It seems that I found him." I raised an eyebrow at this statement. "Victor Floarea at your service," he bowed to me. "It is nice to finally meet you. I see you at the bar every Friday night with your friends. Tell me, what name do you go by?"
"Phillip Kosier," I managed to squeeze out. The more I looked at the man above me, the more nervous I became. He was the most handsome man I had ever seen, rivaling even the most popular stars in the movies. Not like I'd been to see any films in years. I swallowed again. The rain picked up.
"Nice to meet you, Phillip. Tell me, did you get my gift?" Victor looked me up and down, smiling congenially. I had no idea how this man could be pleasant to me when I just slammed into him. I felt myself beginning to go pink. "Oh please, don't be embarrassed! Anyone would have fallen in this weather. Now tell me, did the bartender get you my gift?"
"The bookmark?" I asked.
"Ah, so you did get it!" He looked at me suddenly as if deep in thought.
I raised an eyebrow at him, not expecting someone as beautiful as him to have the time to speak to someone like me. "Exactly why did you give it to me?"
Victor raised his dark black eyebrows, looked to the sky a moment, and then peered down at me. "Why, because you are always reading. A fellow scholar like yourself who enjoys the written word as much as I do must have a way to mark his pages properly. To be honest, it drives me mad to see you bending pages so often."
I bit down on my lip again, looking up timidly at him. Still wondering what he was doing here on campus. I'd never seen him here before. I wondered why he was talking to me. We didn't know each other. Till now, I thought he must have thought me odd. Instead, he was chatting to me and looking at me as if he were delighted to see me.
"I have to say, I was hoping to speak to you tonight. But with the weather being so poor, I figured you would not be at the bar, and so I came here for a walk in hopes of running into you."
I thought I might die. This man came here to find me? I shook my head in disbelief.
"You see," he chatted on, wet hair falling over his face as he smiled at me. I furrowed my eyebrows at an odd flash of sharp teeth. I blinked, doubting my sanity. "I could tell the past few weeks you've been trying to talk to me. But I always have a meal, I mean a girl on my arm. There was hardly any food, I mean people around tonight, and so I thought, ah! What better chance to see what you wanted to ask me!"
I squinted at him behind my rain studded glasses. He took them off my face briefly, wiped them with a handkerchief, and placed them back on my face gently.
"What is it you wanted to ask me?"
He looked like a kid in a candy store. I tried to hold myself together but began to think I might fall apart.
"Um. Well, it's about how many girls you get. I wanted to know how you do it? What your secret is?" I asked.
Victor's face fell, "Oh," he moved his lips between his teeth, "is that all?"
I nodded, "Yeah."
"Alright, let me tell you then," he said warmly. Then, as he started to tell me his secret to his success, he looked me up and down, paused briefly, then removed his jacket. "You must be cold."
"No, really, I am fine," I said, waving him off. This guy was entirely too cordial. Though I sensed something was off about him. I didn't like the fact that he went back and forth between calling people food. Either he was joking, or something was seriously wrong with him. I really hoped he was joking.
"No, you must," he placed the heavy woolen trench coat around my shoulders, relieving me of my book as he held the coat out for me to put my arms through.
I was dismayed. I felt like a girl. Maybe this was part of his charm? I held my hands out to take my belonging back, but he carried it silently in his arms as we walked toward the parking garage.
"You're a human. You'll catch cold in no time, and then what good will you be?"
I raised an eyebrow at him, "If I'm a human, then what are you?" I meant it to be playful, but Victor suddenly looked ill.
"I'm human as well. Yes. Of course, of course. Completely human, my dear Phillip. Nothing to worry about with me." He turned away from me. This guy sent up so many alarms that I began to wonder if I would make it back to my car alive. I watched him as he strode beside me, beautiful, handsome, charming, and somehow not at all what I expected.
"How old are you?" I asked him. He looked older than me, but not by much. I was curious to keep him talking. Spending time with him in silence was awkward.
"I'm three hundre...thirty-two years old." He smiled awkwardly, and I thought I saw something that looked like fangs. I shook my head, blaming the rain for making me hallucinate. "You?"
"I'm twenty-one," I replied. We began to climb the stairs of the parking garage.
"That's a good age," he said to me. "Oh goodness. I didn't tell you all my secrets to getting a girl yet," he said as I stopped in front of my car. I felt embarrassed knowing that surely this guy must drive a car much nicer than me.
He said nothing, simply smiling at me as I made to take off the coat. Before I knew it, he had set my book on top of my car and was helping me. I blinked rapidly, my heart starting to thrum in my chest outside of my control.
"Thanks," I stuttered. "Thanks for letting me borrow it. And thanks for helping me find my glasses."
"Of course," he replied. Victor looked stunning as he wrapped the coat around himself. "Well, it was nice to meet you, Phillip. I am sure I will see you at the bar next Friday, weather allowing. Come by and say hi. I will tell you more when I see you again."
"Thanks. It was nice to meet you too, Victor." I turned to get into my car, then stopped, "You need a ride to your car," I gestured out of the garage, "the weather is bad out there." What the hell was I doing?
Victor smiled, dazzling me with the softness of his features as he did so, "Goodness no, I'll be fine! I still have to find someone, I mean something to eat. I'm starving. Take care of yourself."
I swallowed hard. This guy was weird. His allusions to eating people were starting to get creepy. Maybe it was a stutter. A nervous tick. Perhaps he thought he was being funny. "Alright. Um, thanks for walking me back to my car. I'll see you next week?" I hardly dared to believe him.
"Yes, it's a date," he said. "Drive safe. Take care."
I slid into my car and waved goodbye to him, trying not to think about the word 'date' that passed his lips. As I pulled out of the parking space, I watched as Victor walked away from me. He seemed upset about something, talking to himself and gesturing with his hands. I rolled down my window a crack as I passed him, his dark-cloaked figure beginning to walk down the stairs, "Idiot, you sound like such a fool. You finally get him alone, and you can't even act human! What is wrong with you?!"
I couldn't help but smile. I wondered what on earth he was going on about. Shaking my head in disbelief at having spoken to him after all this time, I rolled up my window and drove home.