She tucks her hair behind her ear and seems to hesitate. "I can't. I'll be with my sister. Sounds like she'll be too young for the crowd."
"Ah, okay. Maybe next time?"
She nods, distracted, and I get the sense she feels guilty for declining. So I change the subject. "I could use your help with something else, actually."
"What is it?" She stops writing to look at me.
I tell her about the prank war Giles initiated--or that I initiated. But I start at the beginning, with him walking in on me naked. Though, I leave out the part where his eyes raked over my skin, taking in every inch of me, face clouded over with lust so thick, it doused my skin with fire. The air around me grows dense and I find myself running a hand over my face and resting it on the side of my neck.
"It's been days and I can't think of how to get him back for what he did to my deodorant. I want my prank to be better than his. I want him to realize I don't take these sorts of things lying down."
"I bet he wishes you did."
I snort. "Shut up."
Lex brings the end of the pen to her lips and says, "Okay, let me think on it for a minute. I'll come up with something..."
We absorb ourselves in our respective tasks. After a while, I notice the strawberries I'm cutting are staining my fingers pink. This observation prompts the wheels in my brain to turn a little faster as I look out toward the dining room. I don't see the restaurant. I see, in my mind's eye, the contents of a bathroom sink.
Mess with my stuff, I'll mess with your stuff.
A smile turns up my lips as I transfer the cut-up fruit into a container. I set the knife down and spin around to face Lex. "Never mind...I know exactly what to do."
That motherfucker has no idea who he's messing with.
Chapter Fourteen
Giles
FOR ALL HER ATTITUDE AND sass, Julia hasn't even tried to get me back for putting a breakfast condiment in her deodorant. I was sure she would and the days that followed were exciting and tense, as I waited for her response.
I've kept an eye out, careful to remember the way I leave my belongings so I can spot right away if anything has been moved. But so far? Nothing's happened and I'm starting to suspect she's opting to take the high road.
I have to admit, I'm disappointed. She doesn't strike me as the type that would let things go so easily. And though I've considered that she could be stewing up a plan, every day my own vigilance grows less effective with no clear signs of a genuine threat.
This morning, I use my shampoo without checking it first and freeze mid-lather, only to relax again when I'm certain it hasn't been tampered with. Of all mornings to deal with the unexpected, this one may be the worst. I'm interviewing for an internship with the UCSD Chancellor's office this morning. I've been looking forward to this opportunity for months.
This campus, like most university campuses, is like a small kingdom. Self contained, with its subjects and territories. Most people would think the university president is the king in this scenario. He isn't. He's just a face to represent the university, to sit at banquets and shake hands at ceremonies. The Chancellor wields the real power.
People with real power are too busy overseeing the turning pieces of their kingdom to pose for pictures. And that's what I'm interested in, real power. Not the illusion of it.
When I was younger, I would tell anyone who listened I was going to be a Marine, like my father. My mother, of course, hated the idea on principle, but my father would rub the top of my head and say to people, You hear that? My kid wants to be a grunt.
My dad was proud to be infantry but all I knew about his job in the Marine Corps was that he got to wear a cool looking uniform and, when he'd deploy, would send me pictures of seemingly giant trucks and impressive guns. I didn't understand the purpose of all that equipment, didn't grasp the death and destruction they evoked, both physically on the war zone as well as long after the marines returned home. I slowly caught on. I gradually saw the toll of deployments on my mother and the biggest toll of them on my father.
In my early teens, I decided I wasn't cut out for the military lifestyle. All I wanted was for my father to not have to deploy any more. But he lived for deployments, sometimes volunteering for them even when they weren't in his rotation. In my young mind, I saw my father being forced to answer to his duty. I saw the military life as one that couldn't afford me the power to change my family's situation. The Marine Corps is about following orders, selflessness, and sacrifice. None of those things seemed to be much help to keep my father home with me, out of harm's way. Away from the things that elicited his screams of panic in the middle of the night, waking me from my own sleep down the hall.
This internship is the first step in me reaching the type of influence I've craved since childhood. My ultimate goal is public office, but you have to start somewhere to gain the public's trust. This self-contained kingdom is as good a place as any.
I've got my eye on the Chancellor's chair. I want it. I just decided I did and now I've got to have it. Landing this internship is a long way from the top and it doesn't pay much, but it's a foot in the door. I'll wedge myself into that crack and blow it wide open.
By the time I get out of the shower, I'm energized beyond belief. I drag the towel over my body, soaking up the droplets of water, and check myself out in the mirror as I do so. Wouldn't mind Julia walking in and seeing this. I don't think she'd mind either.
Thinking of her makes me hesitate as I reach for my deodorant. I uncap it and, even though it's the right green color, I still give it a quick sniff to make sure there isn't anything strange added to it. It's fine. I put on the deodorant and reach for my toothbrush. Again, I feel the tug of hesitancy. I've been careful to hide my toothbrush over the last few days, but I accidentally left it out last night. Did she do something to my toothbrush? It looks fine and I doubt she'd stoop low enough to mess with it, but I can't be sure. Deciding I'm not in the mood for uncertainty, I throw it out. It's time to replace it anyway, so I grab an unopened one from the back of the vanity drawer.
Satisfied, I wet the brush under the running faucet and layer on a thick coat of the blue toothpaste. I doubt she'd mess with my toothpaste, the opening is too small to put anything in it without smearing the outside, but I give it a sniff just to be safe. Mint, pure mint.
My line of sight moves toward the closed door of the bathroom, as I start brushing my teeth. Wondering, as I do every morning, if Julia's retaliation lay in my bedroom. I'm less worried than usual, sure she considers herself too good to play these games. But as I refocus on my reflection, my jaw goes lax.