And Then There Was Victor

Chapter 27

2000

Spring Sophomore schedule went as follows:

Mondays and Wednesday: Russian Literature, Modern Political Topics

Tuesdays and Thursdays: Greek and Roman Humanities, Harlem Literature

War and Peace was the biggest book I'd ever stuffed in my bag and we were supposed to read the first 200 pages before the first day of class. I had to buy a notebook to keep up with the names because I panicked about 30 pages in. The weight of Tolstoy did not stop my excitement at arriving at the Atrium early the first day.

Jon was the first fool I spotted, and he hugged me, lifting me off the floor and I dimly heard him tell me excitedly about his Cancun vacation. No wonder Victor had not been in his house, he'd not been there. My eyes roamed the people that kept coming in and I had a dim sense of panic when I saw I had a class in five minutes, but Victor had not shown. I could not see his tall frame over the people. I had no choice but to rush to class and sit in that literature class waring in my own head, demanding I explain to myself why I was such a mess. When had Victor Manning dictated how I felt, how I smiled, how I lived?

I spotted Yara looking a little lost when my Russian class finally finished, I rushed down to her and she gave me a relieved smile. She had a class which she didn't know where it was so I walked her to it, I had an hour off and would wait for her to finish at the library. I had another 100 pages to read for War and Peace. There was a gnawing emptiness in me which I knew was a Victor-shaped hole but if he had taken the semester off, I would never know, and I would never see him again. My stomach lurched.

All my worrying was for nothing because I ran smack into him as I turned the corner of Yara's classroom. His hand quickly reached out to steady me and when I looked up at him, I could not help but give him a brilliant smile and I threw my hands over him, hugging him. I felt him stiffen under me but then he hugged me, thick and steady.

"Where the hell have you been?" I asked when he let go of me. I smacked his chest, almost fondly as the tight white tee under his sweater greeted me.

He shrugged. "Took off for Christmas, went with the family to Texas to see Dad's family."

"Why didn't you tell me? And your phone!"

He rubbed at the back of his neck, not looking at me. "I changed it."

I studied him; he avoided my eyes. "What's going on?"

He glanced down at me, his throat working up and down. "Nothing is going on. I heard Yara is back."

I nodded, still looking at him.

"Why are you carrying a brick?"

I looked down at my hand. "I have to read it for Russian Literature."

He took it from me, flipping the pages and smiling a little at my pink and green flags with notations. I watched his strong fingers and I felt a pang of loss as if he were already past my reach.

"I miss you," I said and he looked at me. He handed me back my book and started walking next to me.

"Texas was last minute."

He looked out the tall windows that bathed the upper floor with January sun. Florida was beautiful in January. Crisp air, bright sunshine, blue skies, it was a wonder to me that people came in the Summer at all. Florida was for the winter.

"What classes do you have this semester?" I was grasping, I felt he wanted to walk away from me, and I didn't understand it. I didn't know how to keep him.

He pulled out his schedule and wordlessly handed it to me. Science and math, he was filled with science and math classes. We didn't share anything this time. No reason for us to study together, no reason to meet up in the library. My throat slid closed as I handed him back his paper. I stopped on my tracks, blinking as the sun blinded me, and turned to him.