CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
I walked through the MIT campus with a stack of papers in hand. The campus was still mostly empty. I’d woken up at the crack of dawn to be sure I could do my dirty work when there weren’t thousands of students in the way.
MIT’s campus is enormous, but I looked up where the journalism classes usually were held and hit that area especially hard. There wasn’t a safe surface in sight. I pasted pages up on the buildings, on telephone poles, and bulletin boards.
I pasted sheet after sheet in the student union until the walls were almost completely covered in flapping pages. I kept moving toward the center of the campus where I’d seen the statue yesterday. I pasted as I went, trying to move quickly, but just when I thought I was in the clear, I felt a looming presence behind me.
“ Ma’am, do you realize that you’re vandalizing school property?” A stern voice questioned behind me. I turned slowly to look into the eyes of a distinguished man. He had thick white hair, cut short and styled nicely. Horn-rimmed glasses perched on his thin nose. A navy sport coat rested on top of his crisp white shirt.
“ I…I,” I couldn’t formulate a response. He was about to ruin my plan or yell at me. I didn’t do well with confrontation and I was seconds away from breaking down in embarrassing, ugly tears.
“ We have janitors that are hardworking individuals. They have enough on their plate without having to clean up after vandals. Do you understand that?” His tone was harsh and his sharp stare made me feel like a juvenile delinquent.
“ I’m sorry,” I murmured lamely, glancing down at my stack of unused papers. My plan felt foolish now. Why had I thought this would work?
“ May I at least see what you’re posting?” he asked. I fumbled quickly to pass a sheet over to him, unable to meet his gaze. My cheeks reddened beyond what I thought possible. If he hadn’t thought I was foolish before then he definitely would after reading my plea to get Beck back.
His eyes glanced down at the sheet and I watched him scan the page, his expression imperceptible. His thick white eyebrows shot up in surprise and then the edge of his mouth curled up into a hint of a smile.
“ Is this true?” he asked, and I gulped down a swallow.
My head nodded before my vocal cords could catch up. “Yes, sir.”
I stood frozen, waiting for him to call campus authorities or threaten me somehow. I imagined the campus police hauling me off in handcuffs at the precise moment Beck walked onto campus. Instead, the distinguished man stretched out his hand.
“ Give me a few so that I can put them over in the Architecture school. I’m a professor over there.” My eyes practically bulged out of my head at his words. Could he truly be serious? He was going to help me?
I grabbed a dozen and handed them over to him with shaky hands. I couldn’t believe the turn of events. Before he turned to walk away, he looked up at me and narrowed his eyes.
“ I met a girl when I was studying abroad in Italy. We walked the same path to college every day and I never worked up the courage to stop and talk to her. I’d hate for you to have the same regret.” He nodded to himself, the hint of a smile still playing on his lips before he turned and walked off with a confident stride. I felt like I’d stepped into the twilight zone. A laugh escaped my lips as I stood there, completely dumbfounded, watching him disappear around the corner.
When he was gone, I glanced down at the sheet of paper, trying to read it from his perspective.
Distressed Damsel Seeks Brawny Hero
If you’re reading this right now, chances are you’re an extra in my love story. But I need your help. You play a vital role in how my story ends.
My name is Abby Mae, and one year ago, I gave up a part of my life that I thought I’d be able to live without. I knew I was doing the right thing, but now I’m left wondering what could have been.
If you’ve ever had a missed chance at finding love, or if you’ve ever locked eyes with a girl across a coffee shop, or a guy next to you on the bus, this is that moment for me. I’m making my move and I’m throwing myself at fate in hopes that the boy I’m seeking will find this note.
I can’t divulge his name, but our story is short and sweet, and I think you deserve to hear it:
He was a handsome guy in a baseball cap and I was a cynical girl picking out an urn.
He was a stubborn boy who weaseled his way into my road trip and I was a girl who learned that you can never have enough s’mores.
Caroline was my friend that cut our trip in half and we were the ones to appreciate the indefinity of our timelines.
He was a boy that watched me sing karaoke and I was the girl who almost got us kicked out of the bar.
John Denver was our road trip muse and I learned to trust the power of his songs.
I was a girl who chose to Dare and not Drink and he was a boy that screamed he liked me into the ocean.
He left because I forced his hand, but now I’m begging him to understand my reasons.
If you’re that guy, meet me in The Alchemist statue tomorrow at six pm. If none of that story rings a bell, please help me and pass this note along so that I can find him.
I chuckled under my breath at the fact that the distinguished professor wanted to play a part in my story. If he believed in the note, then maybe Beck would as well.
The sound of a skateboard slamming up onto the curb pulled me out of the moment and I glanced up. In a matter of minutes, the campus had transitioned from a ghost town into a bustling zoo. I frowned and took in the people swarming around me, trying to spy a pair of familiar hazel eyes or brown hair hidden beneath a baseball cap. Instead, I found a rather diversified mix of students that looked nothing like Beck.
I still had a pile of papers in my arms, but students were stopping to check out the ones I’d already posted and there was no way I could continue posting more without them noticing me. In a rush, I gathered up all of my supplies and started heading back toward the Harvard Bridge.