He turned to look at the rest of us, and for a moment, his eyes flickered to the corner of the room. “Good night, ladies. I’m right upstairs if anyone has bad dreams.”
He flashed a smile and disappeared.
Meghan turned to Trish. “Since when did Mark get hot?”
She looked back blankly.
“Oh, come on! I always remembered him as this quiet, out-of-the-way guy, and now he’s got this really sexy starving-artist thing going on and I like it.”
Trish stared at Meghan like she was an alien. “Are you serious?”
“He’s quite attractive,” Stephanie supplied with a shy smile.
“Paul’s more my type,” Laura said, “but I could see how people might find Mark appealing.”
“Guys,” Trish warned, “he’s my brother. Ew, okay?”
Meghan leaned forward eagerly. “Is he dating anyone?”
“Not that I know of. But he’s old!”
She rolled her eyes. “He’s only a junior. We’re juniors! It’s practically the same thing.”
Laura shook her head vigorously. “That’s not the same at all.”
“Besides,” Meghan said, leaning back on her elbows with a satisfied smile, “I like older men.”
“Meg, you are sick.” Trish didn’t really look angry, more morbidly puzzled.
“And he’s yummy,” Meghan added with a grin.
“I really don’t think he’s your type.”
“He’s totally my type!”
Trish looked at her skeptically. “I thought you wanted to be a hair stylist.”
“What’s wrong with that?”
“Nothing,” she replied with a shrug, “I just think Mark wants to do different things. He’s doing a semester abroad in France next year, to study at an art academy.”
Meghan looked like she was about to drool. “I like cultured men.”
Trish shook her head, disgusted. “Culture for you is eating a microwaved croissant.”
“I’ll learn French. We’ll live there and make French love and have cute little French babies.”
Trish looked horrified. “Dude, just—no.”
“When are they leaving?” Jenny asked suddenly. As always, it surprised me when she spoke.
“Abou’ a wee’ af’er New Year’s,” Trish said around a mouthful of popcorn. She swallowed thickly. “We’re having a little shindig here and you’re all invited, by the way.”
“I claim dibs on Mark for the New Year’s kiss!” Meghan exclaimed. I happened to be glancing at Jenny and was startled to find an irritated expression cross her face as she stared at Meghan.
“I’m not sure you can really claim dibs on a human being,” Laura replied dryly. “That’s, like, slavery. Or prostitution.”
“You guys are so melodramatic.” Meghan sighed, leaning back against her pillows.
I decided to try and break the tension. “Hey, Trish, do you mind if I bring Adrian?”
She grinned at me. “Hell no, I don’t mind! I’m bringing Ben.” She looked at the other girls. “That’s an open invitation; if y’all have dates, bring them along. Everybody should get a little midnight action.”
The conversation spun off from there, and we stayed up until two in the morning talking. I conked out the moment we decided to call it a night.
Two hours later, I was awake again after a ferocious nightmare involving a thousand binoculars like the ones from the movie staring at me as I posed naked for an art class that was meeting in the Eiffel Tower.
It was mostly just creepy, but I woke up feeling like I was being watched. When I looked around, everyone was deeply asleep.
Except that Jenny’s sleeping bag was empty.
Through the crack under the door, I saw a faint light. Trying not to step on anyone, I made my way over and peered through the sliver where the door wasn’t quite closed.
There, sitting at the kitchen table, was Jenny.
And … Mark?
I could see two mugs sitting in front of them, like they’d been there so long they’d needed refreshments. Jenny had her chin cupped in her hand, white-blond hair draped around her, and was actually looking Mark in the eye, something I’d never seen her do with anyone else. Mark was murmuring something quietly to her and I strained to hear.
“… talking and saying nothing. People don’t understand the power of words. I love talking to people, but I can’t stand it when they have absolutely nothing to say.” He chuckled in a self-deprecating sort of way. “Which is ironic, because I’m doing all the talking.”
Jenny smiled. I’m not sure I’d ever seen her smile before. “I like listening.”
“Then you’re pretty damn different from every other girl I’ve ever met.”
They regarded each other for a few moments in silence.
“When are you going back?” Jenny asked finally.
“Two weeks.”
She looked down at the table.
“But I’ll be back this summer. Four whole months.” He leaned forward, resting his arms on the table. “I’m going to bring all my supplies and start a new series. It’s an idea that’s been floating around in my head for a few years and I’ve been looking for a model, but no one on campus is right.”