Blue Horizons
Chapter Forty-One
Sometimes, it was just the little things that finally tipped the scales.
Elizabeth was furious with her father for trying to control her life. She was overworked and hassled having to deal with the econ class he had made her take. She’d been forced to neglect the art project she was very much intrigued by to make up all her work. She was struggling her way through calculus, even with Jonathan’s skilled tutoring. And, on top of that, her relationship with Spike was in this weird state of limbo where they kind of weren’t really mad at each other, but they didn’t really know how to act, either. It was a lot of deal with.
But, when she woke up the morning after her calculus midterm to discover that, yes, indeed she had picked up the house flu, it was just too much. Willow’s medical flutterings had soon sussed out a temperature of 101.3. Her nose was running constantly to the point where she could barely sleep between blowing it. It was not a fun experience.
So, once again, it took a little thing like illness to finally make everything crystal clear.
With an irritated glance at her study-sheet for the econ midterm on Friday, Elizabeth crawled out of bed at 1:36 on Tuesday afternoon, practically collapsed into the chair in front of her computer, and opened up her web browser. Several clicks later, her finger stood poised over the mouse button, debating whether this was really a good idea.
The overwhelming verdict was “yes!”
One last click, and Elizabeth smiled at the message on her screen:
“Economics 220 dropped.”
Fully satisfied with her work of the day, she crawled back into bed and blew her nose once more, feeling strangely content despite everything…
* * *
“You awake, luv?”
Obviously she was dreaming. She didn’t get to wake up to the wonderful sound of Spike’s voice anymore. “No,” she answered matter-of-factly in a slightly hoarse voice.
She got a chuckle in response, and a large hand covered her forehead, checking her temperature. “Not feelin’ so good then, I take it…”
Elizabeth cracked her eyes open, amazed to find that, yes, Spike still was there. “Hey,” she said with a lazy smile, sniffling as her nose clogged up again, “I thought you were a dream.”
His cheeks dimpled in response, and the hand at her forehead gently brushed her hair back. “No dream,” he assured her, “just your own private nurse until Red gets back from lab.”
“Mmm, Spike-shaped nurse,” she murmured contentedly, scootching over slightly so that he could sit on the edge of her bed. “I don’t suppose I could order a sponge bath?”
He tisked her. “Be careful what you wish for,” he warned.
“Hmm,” she muttered in response.
“Forehead feels a bit warm,” he commented, finally pulling his hand away. He plucked up the thermometer from the nightstand. “You up for a re-take?”
She nodded sleepily and opened her mouth for him, letting the thermometer slip beneath her tongue. Her mouth felt all dry and sticky and weird with the metal device there, and it was difficult to keep it in place.
“Don’t worry,” he seemed to read her mind, “we’ll get that wonderful tongue ‘f yours back in business in no time.”
She mock-scowled at him over the thermometer, and he gave her an unabashed grin in response.
“Willow said she’d pick up the class notes for Contemporary Art,” he continued conversationally as he sat beside her and waited. “Devon’s nabbin’ calc tomorrow since he has class in the math building right after. I called Mum and explained that you’re out for the week. She told you to just rest up and get better.”
“Mm-mmm mm-mngm,” Elizabeth mumbled.
“Actually, I already gave ‘er your thanks in advance,” Spike miraculously managed to translate the thermometer-impaired words. “She also said you need chicken soup. You eaten yet today?”
She shook her head negative.
“Hungry?”
She considered it for a moment before hastily nodding.
“’ll microwave you up a bowl ‘s soon as we’ve checked your fever, then,” Spike decided. He checked his watch. “Still another minute to go,” he sighed. “Soddin’ ancient thermometer…”
She smiled around the glass tube.
“Anya’s stoppin’ by Winston’s office tomorrow afternoon to discuss her degree, so she can warn ‘im you might be out for the midterm,” he went on discussing every trivial matter he could think of. “’m sure she’ll be able to get you an extension on it, if you’re still out ‘f it by then.”
“Mmf-wm-fmwp!” Elizabeth exclaimed.
“There’s a fish in your dresser?” Spike made a hopeless guess.
Elizabeth rolled her eyes. “Mm-gmmf,” she informed him.
“’f course, ‘m impossible,” he translated with a rakish grin, “that’s why you love me so much.”
“Mm-mmm-mm.”
“I think I prefer not to try to interpret that one,” he informed her with a wink. A quick check of his watch determined that the irksome thermometer could go. “Let’s see how you’re doin’, then, luv,” he commented, pulling the thermometer from her mouth.
“I dropped econ,” she managed to get her sentence out from earlier.
Spike sat there frozen for a second, hand still in midair holding the thermometer. Then he shook it off and checked the little red line. “Oh,” he said simply.
“All you can say is ‘oh’?” she groaned in disbelief.
He squinted at the device before him before sighing and plucking the case for his reading glasses out of his duster pocket. “Sure ‘s wise to make a choice like that when you’re not feelin’ well?” he inquired. “I mean, I get that you don’t wanna take the midterm right now, but-”
“That’s not why,” she assured him. She smiled at the too-cute sight of Spike, wire-rimmed glasses perched on the tip of his nose, analyzing the thermometer. “What’s the verdict?” she inquired.
“99,” he answered. “Fever’s back a bit. Want some Tylenol?”
“Yeah,” she agreed, snatching up another Kleenex and blowing her nose.
“’ll get you another trash bag, too,” he assured her, noticing that her current one was in danger of overflowing.
“Thanks,” she agreed in a tired voice.
She must have drifted into sleep for a while because when she woke up, the wastebasket by her bed was empty with a fresh bag inside just waiting for her crumpled up tissues, a glass of water and two Tylenol gel-caps were on the nightstand, and Spike had retreated to Willow’s bed, making himself generally at home among the quilts and pillows and deeply engrossed in a book.
“Spike?” she murmured.
His attention instantly turned back to her. “Din’t disturb you, luv, did I?” he asked apologetically.
“Nope,” she assured him, pulling herself up into a sitting position and downing the Tylenol.
“That should knock the fever back down,” he informed her. “You’ve had it a li’l over two days now, so ‘m willing to bet it’ll be gone tomorrow.”
“I feel less crappy,” she agreed, lying back down with a contented sigh.
“Anythin’ else you need?” he offered.
A nice warm Spike pillow to snuggle up against. “Does that offer for soup still stand?” she requested, sniffling slightly.
“Will you actually stay awake enough to eat it this time?” he countered.
“Did anyone ever tell you that you have the worst bedside manner ever?” she shot back.
“Bedside, yes,” he agreed smugly. “The complaints tend to stop once I actually get in the bed with ‘em, though.”
Elizabeth giggled. “Actually, you’re kind of sweet. All attentive and cute.”
He huffed. “Know you’re just tryin’ to butter me up,” he said defensively.
She gave him a piteous look. “Soup?” she repeated in a meek little voice.
He let out a good-humored sigh. “Sometimes I think you only love me for my ability to operate a microwave,” he teased lightly, getting up and walking over to her. He caught her hand and gave it a quick squeeze. “Be right back, OK, luv?”
“Mmm-hmm,” she nodded contentedly.
He was only gone for a minute, and she took advantage of that time to complete the great effort of sitting herself up against the headboard once more.
“Still awake?” he inquired, bumping the door open with one lean hip as he carried the tray in. “’Cause if not, you’re gettin’ a rude awakening…”
“You’d wake up a sick person?” She flashed her best Bambi eyes in his direction before frowning. That strange confusion that sometimes overwhelms everything during illness just couldn’t puzzle out where that tray could have come from…
“Purloined from the fine dinin’ establishment downstairs,” he answered her unspoken question before setting the tray carefully in her lap. “Please tell me I don’t need to spoon feed you.”
She sniffed the steaming soup in front of her, a blissful expression on her face. “Mmm, chicken soup…” she sighed. “You know, the only time I ever like this is when I’m sick.” Having taken in all the healing aroma she could into her clogged nostrils, she picked up the spoon and began slowly sipping away at it.
“Exactly the same way with me,” Spike agreed, moving over to Willow’s bed.
“Sit with me?” Her words brought him to a dead halt.
“All right,” he tried to sound nonchalant as he settled himself down on the edge of her bed once more.
She smiled up at him and slurped up a noodle. He watched her eat intently, a fond light in his eyes.
“You want crackers?” he offered.
“No, I’m good,” she assured him.
“’S always rough,” he commented, still watching her slowly devour the soup, “first time sick away from home.”
“Like you would know,” she pointed out the propinquity of his mother.
“Doesn’t matter that she’s in the same town,” he insisted. “You’re still stuck by yourself with no one to bring you things an’ baby you.”
“You guys seem to be doing both quite well,” she countered.
“Yeah,” he agreed, “but ‘s not the same as mum…”
She considered it for a moment. “Strangely enough, yeah,” she agreed. “About the only time my step-mom and I could stand each other was when I was sick.”
“Think there’s some gene in women that gets turned on once they’ve had kids,” Spike decided. “Makes ‘em able to make any illness better.”
“Don’t suppose I could borrow your mom for the week?” she agreed wistfully.
“You sayin’ I’m a bad nurse?!” he demanded, offended.
“Well, you’re not wearing one of those cute white uniforms with the miniskirt,” she countered. And blinked, spoon paused halfway to mouth. “OK, very scary that I now have that image in my head,” she decided.
“Not about to turn transvestite on you,” he assured her.
“No, I mean it’s scary because the image in my head in so damn lickable,” she clarified. “I don’t suppose you would ever…”
“For the sake of my sanity, ‘m assuming that’s just the fever talkin’,” he joked with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Although say that to me when you’re better, and ‘s a whole different story…”
She laughed and caught the soup that spilled down her chin with a napkin. “Don’t make me laugh while I’m eating,” she scolded. “That’s your first nursing lesson right there.”
He smiled and noticed that her bowl was almost empty. “You gonna want more?” he inquired.
She scooped up the last of the chickeny-noodly goodness with a shake of her head. “All full,” she assured him.
“Got your appetite back today,” he noticed approvingly as he took the tray from her.
She settled comfortably back down into her pillows. “It feels like the worst is over,” she agreed. And snatched up another Kleenex. “If odly my node would stop rudding.”
“Cute little nose like yours shouldn’t hafta ever go through anythin’ like this,” he agreed.
She smiled and closed her eyes. “Don’t think I don’t see what you’re doing,” she said with a yawn.
“Whassat?” he asked curiously.
“Playing the perfect boyfriend role while I’m too sick to resist,” she answered.
He grinned. “It workin’?”
“Ask me when I’m better,” she retorted, rolling over onto her side so that she faced him. She shivered slightly.
“You cold, luv?” he asked, concerned. He leaned over and settled his arm in the small of her back.
She sighed contentedly at the feel of his loose embrace. This way definitely led the road to recovery. “Don’t,” she requested softly after a minute.
“’m sorry,” he instantly pulled away. “You shouldn’t hafta think about me-”
“I like thinking about you,” she assured him, catching his hand. “And I would very much like a Spike blanket right about now, but I don’t want you to get sick, too.”
“I don’t care,” he informed her softly.
“But I do,” she insisted. “I care about you, and-”
“Now I know ‘s the fever talkin’,” he cut her off.
“The whole econ thing,” she began again. “I didn’t drop because-”
“Shh,” he soothed her. “Tell me when you’re better, all right? Got plenty of time for all this. Right now you just need rest.”
Her weary body agreed with him wholeheartedly. “Can I get another blanket, then?” she requested.
One of Willow’s spare quilts landed on her in response. She murmured from her snug confinement as he tucked the blanket in around her.
“’ll be right over here if you need me,” Spike commented. He dropped a quick kiss on her brow before she could react, and then got up and returned to Willow’s bed and his homework.
“What’re you reading?” she asked, her voice drowsy.
“Just Latin,” he informed her.
“Can you read it to me?”
“’S in Latin,” he repeated.
“Don’t care,” she insisted with the stubbornness of a two-year-old. “Wanna hear your voice.”
He chuckled. “All right, then,” he agreed. “If nothin’ else, it should put you right back to sleep…”
Elizabeth smiled and let herself drift off at the soothing sound of his voice. The accented baritone he used for reading aloud was beautiful and, sure enough, it wasn’t long before she drifted off once more…
* * *
“How long do you think I have until my dad finds out?” Elizabeth asked, blowing her nose on a napkin and picking up one of her many glasses of orange juice. She downed it in one gulp.
“Long enough that you don’t have to worry about this at your first official dining hall meal,” Willow answered smartly.
Elizabeth shook her head. “I want to be prepared for the disaster before it strikes,” she insisted. “Plus, except for the runny nose, I feel fine.”
“Why would your dad find out at all?” Jonathan chimed in. “I mean, the school’s not supposed to release those records without your approval…”
“Daddy’s got spies on her,” Spike answered in a gruff voice. He obviously wasn’t enjoying this conversation.
Elizabeth nodded. “But it’s only been a week since I dropped,” she thought aloud. “Plus, I’ve been sick the whole time, so that should buy me a little while longer to…”
“What?” Spike inquired, suddenly interested. “What ‘xactly are you gonna do? Thought this was an all-around lose situation.”
Elizabeth grimaced. “That’s why I have to figure out my options fast,” she decided.
Cordy shrugged. “You were sick,” she insisted. “That’s a valid excuse. There’s no way he can come down on you this semester.”
Elizabeth took another orange juice glass two down in two gulps. “This semester,” she agreed, “but if I don’t start planning now, I’ll be stuck in an even worse situation next year.”
“You really think your dad will revoke your tuition over this?” Willow asked seriously. “I mean, he could be bluffing…”
“Wishful thinking,” Anya countered. “He sees Elizabeth’s education as an investment. If it’s not going to get the return he wants, then he’ll pull out his funds.”
“Elizabeth is not an investment!” Willow insisted vehemently.
“But Anya’s right,” Elizabeth quickly stepped to the other woman’s defense, “that’s exactly how my dad’s thinking about this.”
Anya gave everyone at the table a smug smile.
“So, in a couple of weeks you’re going to have no tuition,” Jonathan summarized. “That’s not good.”
Elizabeth shook her head ruefully.
“Delay,” Cordelia repeated her advice. “Play up the pity card for this class, and then worry about next year after you’ve had time to think things through.”
Elizabeth cast a pointed look in Spike’s direction, wondering what he thought about this option. He was studiously not paying attention. Not help there, then.
“If it’s really a problem of not being able to afford tuition,” Xander spoke up for the first time nervously, “the college helps people with that sort of thing, you know.”
Several curious glances turned in his direction.
“Well,” he hastily moved to explain, “my parents flat-out refused to pay for me - not that they had any money anyway - but the college actually has decent loan programs. If nothing else, they’ll give you work-study.”
“It has to be too late in the year to apply, though,” Elizabeth bit her lip.
Willow shook her head. “It’s got to be worth it at least to ask,” she pointed out. “For next year, if not this one.”
Elizabeth conceded the point. “So, how long do you think I have?” she repeated her chief concern.
“It really depends on who’s keeping an eye on you,” Willow shook her head. “My guess, though, is that you won’t have any problems until your updated transcript’s been filed at the registrar’s office.”
“I worked there sophomore year,” Devon provided. “They’re really slow. A couple of weeks at least.”
“Giving me Spring Break to sort everything out,” Elizabeth concluded. She downed her last glass of orange juice. “Gah!” she shuddered. “Why can’t they at least make orange juice palatable?”
“One ‘f the great mysteries of the universe,” Spike declared before getting up. “See everyone later,” he announced briskly before taking off.
“What did I say now?” Elizabeth wondered.
Everyone shrugged.
With a sigh, Elizabeth snatched up her grilled cheese from her plate and hurried off to bus her tray. She caught Spike right as he reached the stairs.
“You’re takin’ that back to your room?” he asked speculatively when she caught up to him.
She took a bite out of the sandwich. “No, I was going to eat it back there, but I wanted to catch up to you before you pulled another disappearing act.”
“I don’t-” he began.
“Yes, you do,” she insisted. “You’ve been all…edgy ever since I dropped. I thought you’d be happy. So spill.”
The muscle in his jaw ticked, and he looked very much like he was either going to start yelling or close himself off again. However, the soft tone he finally spoke with surprised her. “You made this into this whole big thing,” he said with barely suppressed emotion, “and then it turns out you get this li’l cold-”
“I missed class for a week!” she protested.
“Fine, big cold. And somethin’ like that causes you to just give up an’ drop when nothing I…” he trailed off and turned from her, heading up the spiral staircase.
Elizabeth bit her lip and followed him up. “I didn’t ‘give up’,” she finally said.
“Really?” he countered. “’Cause that’s sure what it looks like. You’ve got no plans for dealin’ with this. Was just a spur ‘f the moment thing.”
“Kinda not!” she shot back, annoyed. “So, yeah, the details have to be ironed out a bit. That doesn’t mean that I don’t think that I made the right choice.”
“The easiest choice, you mean,” he countered. “Ditch the midterm, and-”
“How on earth is this choice ‘easy’?” she demanded. “The midterm was a one-time deal. I studied a couple of nights, got it over with, and ta-da! This is a huge, complicated choice with all sorts of implications I haven’t even thought through yet.”
“’S not really an informed choice then, see,” he pointed out. “You acted impulsively, and-”
They had arrived at the door to his room, now, but this conversation didn’t seem to be allowing them to go separate ways, so they remained fixed in the hallway.
“It wasn’t an impulsive choice,” she insisted. The last of the grilled cheese was devoured so that she could cross her arms over her chest. “Yeah, the whole flu thing was the final nail in the coffin, but the whole big coffin had been built before that.”
“So, you’re sayin’ you’re ready to handle this,” he said unconvinced. “No more cavin’ in to daddy?”
She shook her head in disbelief. “I thought you would be happier. After all, this is good for you.”
“But is it good for you?” he demanded.
“Yes,” she insisted. “Why else would I have done it?”
“So, then I don’t matter,” he concluded.
She rolled her eyes in exasperation. “So, I’m supposed to make all my decisions based off of what’s best for me, except then you’ll get pissed because I didn’t make them because of you?” she retorted sarcastically.
“Well…yeah,” he shook his head, “’cause of course you can do contradictory things at once…” He banged the heel of his hand against his forehead at the irrational contortions his mind was going through. “Think I’ve officially gone insane, luv,” he said apologetically.
“ ‘Gone’?” she teased.
He pouted.
“Don’t worry,” she assured him, “I get the whole Endless Loop Of Badness brain trap.”
He offered her a shy smile. “Just wishin’ I was a part of your decision, I guess,” he confessed.
“You were a part,” she assured him. “Not the only part of the coffin, but definitely a part. You were, like, the lining.”
He blinked at her. “Did you just you just call me coffin lining?” he asked in disbelief.
She winced. “Yeah, we’ve already established that my analogies suck,” she agreed, slightly amused by the oddity that had once more emerged from her mouth.
“As long as ‘s not you that’s suckin’ again,” he teased.
She swatted him in the arm playfully in response. “No need to rub it in, you big baby.”
His expression turned serious again. “We good, then?” he asked nervously. “’m sorry about bein’ all ‘Grr! Argh!’ an’ all…”
“We’re good,” she assured him with a smile.
“Better’n good,” he countered with a smirk.
She blushed, suddenly aware of just how closely they were standing together. Only one step and she would be able to lean in and taste that delicious smirk for herself…
She shook off the impulse and took a step back. “I’ve got a lot of work to do,” she said, breaking the moment.
Spike seemed to snap back to reality at that, too. “Right,” he agreed. “Probably can come up with some use for my worthless self, too.”
She grinned. “I can think of a few suggestions,” she teased. “How do you feel about whipped cream?”
He laughed. “You know better’n to get me wound up like that,” he tisked, fumbling with his doorknob.
She gave him an unrepentant smile. “Be sure to think of me,” she requested as he retreated into his room.
His face turned beet-red given what he was about to go do. “Wicked minx,” he grumbled, slamming the door.
“Love you, too,” Elizabeth whispered under her breath, too quiet to even be heard as she lingered in front of the closed door. Then, with a shake of her head, she turned to her room and crashed right into- “Jonathan!” she exclaimed with a start.
He rubbed his head. “Sorry, I thought you saw me.”
“No, I’m sorry,” she insisted. “I’m just this huge klutz. You’re okay, right?”
“Yeah,” he assured her, “you?”
“Fine,” she agreed.
“So, er…yeah,” he muttered nervously, walking right past her.
“See ya,” she agreed, heading back to her room.
“Elizabeth?” he said tentatively, halting her right in the lounge doorway.
“Yeah?” she turned back to look at him curiously.
He shuffled on his feet nervously, looking down at the ground. “I don’t know if I should say this, but…”
“What?” she asked encouragingly, suddenly very curious.
His cheeks flushed. “I know it’s really not my business,” he mumbled, “and you probably don’t want me to talk about it, and you’ll probably be mad at me…”
Her brow furrowed. “I won’t be mad,” she assured him.
He nodded nervously but still refused to look at her. There was a moment’s pause before the words practically rushed from his mouth. “It’s just that you and Spike used to be together, and you seemed really happy. It seemed like you had this really good thing, and…I just wanted to say, well, good things are really hard to come by.” He shut up like a clam, and his face flamed a bright red before he turned away in flight back to his room.
Elizabeth couldn’t help but smile to herself. Jonathan had probably been building up the courage to say that ever since she and Spike broke up three weeks ago. “You’re right,” she called after him.
He paused at his door for a second. “Huh?”
She gave him a smile. “I think you’re right,” she repeated, “and thanks.”
He gulped. “No problem,” he mumbled before darting into his room and closing the door.
Elizabeth shook her head with a smile still on her face. Even Jonathan had seen clearly what seemed so confused to her. Not anymore, though. Because every day things were becoming clearer in her mind. Her gaze lingered on Spike’s closed door one last time before turning to the task before her. After all, she still had a lot of work to do…
Blue Horizons
Chapter Forty-Two
“Elizabeth Summers…” Hallie Stone read from the file before her. “I don’t believe we’re met before?”
“Uh, no,” Elizabeth agreed nervously. “I registered and everything on-line.”
Hallie nodded. “Well, it’s nice to meet you, Elizabeth,” she offered her hand. “Is that what you go by? Elizabeth?”
She nodded and accepted the handshake.
“Please, sit down,” Hallie offered. “Now, what can I do for you today?” she inquired. “Class troubles?”
“Not really so much,” Elizabeth answered, settling herself down in the armchair in front of her advisor’s desk.
“Your transcript looks fine,” Hallie agreed. “Straight A’s first semester. You should be very proud of yourself.”
Elizabeth blushed. “I just, y’know, did the work,” she mumbled, slightly embarrassed.
“It’s nothing to be ashamed of,” Hallie insisted. “Do you have any idea how many students don’t even make it through their first semester? And to do as well as you have…”
Elizabeth bit her lip. “I might not make it the second semester, though,” she confessed.
Hallie’s brow furrowed. “Tell me about it,” she requested.
“See, my dad,” she began, catching the knowing look in the other woman’s eyes before continuing, “he wants me to be an econ major.”
“What do you want to major in?” Hallie inquired.
“Art,” Elizabeth said with a laugh. “About as far away as I can get.”
Hallie nodded. “Have you talked to your father about this?”
Elizabeth winced. “Yeah, well, he sort of threatened to cut off my tuition and forced me to drop history and take an econ class.”
“And that is…” Hallie scanned over the papers in front of her, “Econ 220?” She gave Elizabeth a sympathetic smile.
Elizabeth nodded. “Except I really didn’t want to take it, so I just dropped early last week.”
“Did you tell your father you dropped?” Hallie interrupted, still trying to get a handle on the situation.
Elizabeth shook her head. “No. But he’s got contacts here at the college, and it’s only a matter of time before he finds out.”
“And then the tuition goes,” Hallie bit the end of her pencil thoughtfully. “Is that the problem?”
Elizabeth nodded. “I want to stay here,” she insisted. To her horror, she realized that her eyes were tearing up slightly at the thought of losing this life. In vain, she wiped at them, trying to force herself to be strong in this situation.
Hallie pushed the Kleenex box across her desk so that Elizabeth could reach it. “If you’ve been doing this well,” she gestured to Elizabeth’s transcript, “with all these difficulties on your shoulders, there is no way the college won’t come up with some means for you to stay here.” She gave Elizabeth an encouraging smile.
Elizabeth managed to refrain her sniffles a bit, the battle for control won if not the war.
“Now, tell me about how your father will find out. Are you planning to tell him yourself?” Hallie decided that filling in the details would make the situation a bit less overwhelming.
“Yeah, that’d probably be better than letting him hear it from one of his rich buddies,” she agreed. “See, I was kind of sick for a while, so I might be able to use that as leverage for a bit. But in the long run…”
“You need some real leverage,” Hallie agreed. “What’s this about your father’s rich buddies?” she inquired curiously.
“He…I don’t know, knows someone with access to the administration records, or something,” Elizabeth sighed. “He didn’t exactly tell me how he was spying on me…”
Hallie frowned. “That’s troubling,” she agreed, “and completely against school policy. Your interests are supposed to outweigh your father’s here.”
“My dad’s got a lot of money,” she shrugged.
“That always makes things difficult,” Hallie agreed. “But, still, if you ever find out the name of someone who works for the college and is reporting private student records back to your father… Well, we can get them in a lot of trouble.”
“That’s good to know,” she sighed, “but I don’t particularly want trouble. I just want to get back to my life and not have this hanging over my head anymore.”
“Which means we’re back to the tuition problem,” Hallie agreed. “Are you sure your father will actually pull out on you?” She noticed Elizabeth’s not so friendly expression and explained herself. “Nine out of ten students who come in here with this problem eventually solve it without a loss of tuition. I just wanted to see if you think that’s at all a possible option.”
Elizabeth conceded the point. “I’m actually not sure,” she admitted. “I can probably play things up and get away with it this semester. But, eventually, yeah, if I don’t fall into line. I have no doubt he’ll pull me out of here if this place is a ‘bad influence’.”
“All good colleges should be,” Hallie said with a wry smile.
Elizabeth couldn’t help but laugh at that. “Yeah, I mean I can come up with some way to make it for a while,” she agreed, brow furrowed in thought. “But I’ll have to do it by lying. Sooner or later, this is all going to come to a head, and I really kinda want it to be sooner.”
Hallie bit her lip and nodded. “Given your grades, you could probably get a partial academic scholarship next year,” she informed Elizabeth. “And, if your father refuses to pay your tuition, you can probably get a bit of a need-based one, too. However, those are largely loan-based with work-study content.”
“What does that mean?” Elizabeth inquired.
“That you’ll have some bills to pay off after you graduate,” Hallie explained, “and you’ll probably have to work during the year.”
Elizabeth bit her lip. “Okay…” she sighed.
“And that would be for next year,” Hallie provided. “Your dad can’t recall your tuition for last semester - that’s past due - but this semester you could be left on the lurch.”
“So, my dad pulls out and I have to drop?” she said, slightly scared.
“Not necessarily,” Hallie corrected. “It’s just that the due-date for college-based funding is long past. You could always try to get a loan from a bank or some other financial institution. However, those tend to be less geared towards student needs.”
“I had better go ask just in case,” Elizabeth sighed.
“You generally need to have some form of income to receive a loan,” Hallie provided helpfully.
Elizabeth bit her lip. “Do you think I should just lie to my father this semester?” she asked hesitantly. “I could buy some time and…” She trailed off.
“What do you want to do?” Hallie countered.
“I want out now,” Elizabeth said confidently.
“Then getting out now is probably the best thing for you to do,” she advised. “It’ll be some work.”
“But I’m used to that,” Elizabeth agreed. “At least, of the school kind…”
“Real work tends to be less stressful than academic work,” Hallie offered encouragingly. “A lot less is expected of you. I had to work my entire way through graduate school, and it was a bit of a time stretch, but I managed just fine.”
Elizabeth nodded slowly, feeling slightly nervous. “I’ve never exactly had a job before,” she admitted. “I…” She trailed off, a bit embarrassed.
“It’s a college town,” Hallie shrugged. “No one will care. You can nab something really simple with hours that fit your coursework, and there shouldn’t be much problem.”
A numb nod in response. Abstractly, Elizabeth had known that eventually she’d have to get a job, but…
“You look overwhelmed,” Hallie pointed out kindly.
Elizabeth sighed. “Yeah,” she couldn’t help but agree.
“How about we just assume for now that we’re only worrying about next year?” Hallie suggested. “Just a back-up plan in case things with dad don’t work out.”
“Sounds good,” Elizabeth agreed, happy to put this off into the distance once more. “So you actually think I can get some kind of academic scholarship?”
“There’s a good chance,” Hallie corrected, “and no reason whatsoever not to try. You’ll have to fill out applications, but it’ll keep your debt down if you get anything.”
“Great,” Elizabeth agreed. “How do I apply?”
“The easiest way is probably to check the scholarship section of the college webpage,” Hallie answered. “There’s a huge list of everything available there, some of it by major. So, if you really think you’re headed for art…”
“Definitely,” Elizabeth agreed.
“I know the art department itself offers a couple. General college scholar options are also available. You can just print out anything you think you’ve got an actual chance at, and fill out the applications.”
“Right,” Elizabeth agreed, “I can do that.”
“Most of those applications will be due soon, though,” Hallie pointed out, “so you’ll want to hurry.”
“But what if I don’t get anything?” Elizabeth asked worriedly.
“There are always work-study loans,” Hallie assured her. “And those you can apply for the week before the semester starts next autumn, so there’s no rush there.”
“Right,” Elizabeth agreed, jotting down a quick note on her pad, “got it.”
“Do you want me to tell you more about anything?” Hallie inquired.
Elizabeth frowned. “Why don’t you let me see where I am after I’ve checked all this stuff out?” she requested before shaking her head. “Glad I dropped econ; this is like taking another class…”
“It’s rough,” Hallie agreed, “but if you ever need any help sorting any of this out…”
“Thanks,” Elizabeth said, flashing her a dazzling smile. “I guess I’ll, y’know, see if I can meet with you in a week or so?”
“I’ll be looking for you,” Hallie nodded. “Let me know if there are any problems.”
“I will,” Elizabeth agreed, getting up, “and thanks again.”
“You can thank me by not waiting until your senior year to register your major,” Hallie countered wryly.
“I won’t, I promise,” Elizabeth agreed before heading back to the dorm, her mind actually a bit dizzy from all the possibilities. Applications and loans and jobs and… OK, so yeah, she still felt a little bit overwhelmed. She had no idea how well she’d be able to churn out the five-figure amount of money needed every year. At the very least, she should probably get a job this summer to-
“Ow.”
She was pulled out of her thoughts when she crashed right into someone - a very familiar someone.
“Y’know, Summers,” Spike sighed, “it’s generally polite to respond to someone when they start talkin’ to you instead of plowing right into ‘em.”
Elizabeth was painfully aware of where his hand still rested on her waist to steady her. It felt so wonderful to have him touch her again, to have him close… “You said something to me?” she blinked in complete surprise, hesitantly pulling away.
He shrugged at her reaction and buried his hands in his duster pockets. “Just askin’ where you were headed,” he offered.
“Oh, dorm,” she answered, biting her lower lip. “You wanna walk with me?”
“Well, actually, I was takin’ a bit of a stroll in this fine warm weather we’re having.” He gestured around to where the snow was melting in the bright sunlight.
“Oh,” she said quietly, “well, have fun then.”
He gave her a disbelieving look. “That wasn’t a ‘no’,” he provided.
She gave him a small smile. “Good,” she agreed, heading off in the direction of Westing Hall and enjoying having him stroll by her side. “So, how are things going with you?” she asked a bit nervously. Making small talk with Spike seemed a bit strange.
“Well enough, I s’pose,” he seemed equally unsure of what to do in this situation and scratched at his scarred eyebrow. “Still have one midterm left,” he provided.
“Ha! I mock you,” she teased lightly. “I am so done with midterms.”
He scowled at her. “Evil minx,” he accused.
She grinned. “So…what are you doing over Spring Break?”
“Nothing exciting,” he answered. “’S only a week, after all.”
“How much does it suck that they only give us a week?” Elizabeth agreed.
“At least the dorms stay open this time ‘round, though,” he commented. “No nasty relocatin’ costs.”
She nodded. “Yeah, I don’t know where I’d go if I couldn’t…” Her face flushed slightly. Not too long ago there wouldn’t have even been a question that she would go to Spike’s house. How could so much have changed in so little time?
“So, you’re stayin’ in the dorm?” Spike offered, breaking her introspection.
“Yup,” she agreed. “You?”
“’ll probably be in and out,” he offered. “Spend some time with Mum and all…”
“Yeah, I don’t blame you,” she agreed. “I love Westing House, but after being cooped up all winter, it’s got to be nice to just be someplace else.”
“The weather’s getting more accommodatin’ every day,” Spike agreed. “Soon the nasty cabin fever ‘ll be only a memory.”
“Yeah,” she sighed.
“So…um…” He scratched the back of his neck nervously.
She looked at him askance, curious as to his strange mood. “What?” she asked with a teasing little smile.
He shook it off. “Nothin’,” he insisted.
She wasn’t about to be put off that easily. “You know you’re just going to end up telling me anyway,” she pointed out.
“How’s the whole beatin’ dad at his own game thing working out?” he abruptly changed the subject.
“Do you have any idea how much three years of tuition is?” Elizabeth sighed.
“Rather nasty,” he agreed.
“I’ve got a whole bunch of options that I have to look through,” she commented.
“Sounds like loads of fun,” he half-joked.
She gave him a wry smile. “Yeah, but, hey, at least it doesn’t look like I’ll be living out on the streets anytime soon.”
“Always a plus,” he agreed.
They walked in silence for a while, Spike occasionally kicking some snow onto the sidewalk to help it melt faster. Elizabeth watched his scuffed Doc Martens absentmindedly, smiling inwardly whenever he stomped on a bit of ice.
It wasn’t until they were approaching the walk that led to Westing House’s back door that he finally spoke up again.
“You wanna go out?”
She froze, her gut a twisted torrent of wants and desires. “You mean, like a date?” she stalled for time, hoping the churning would sort itself out.
His cheeks flushed slightly. “Yeah,” he agreed quietly. “I mean, I know you need some time, but…”
“I do, you know,” she said apologetically. “Need more time. I still have so much to sort out.”
“I get it.” His voice sounded defeated. “No need to tell me twice.”
“Spike…” She reached over to rest one hand on his shoulder, but he shook it off.
“Think maybe I need a little time,” he countered. “Right now.”
She watched him walk away with a weary sigh. Why did things have to be so complicated? They were getting along fine one minute, and the next everything was just awkward and uncomfortable. Half the time when they were fighting, she just wanted to kiss him, but…
She knew this was all difficult on him. She knew how hopelessly impatient he was. She knew that he was still hurt that she had put them on hold, and her continued persistence to do so even though she was turning away from her father’s wishes probably just made things worse. It probably made it seem like she wouldn’t choose him even if everything else worked out.
The problem was that she couldn’t contradict any of these without giving him painful hope about something that might still take years to completely work out. She still cared for him - god, if their separation had taught her anything, it was how much he really meant to her - but that didn’t mean that she couldn’t still lead him on.
With a weary sigh, she arrived in her dorm room and plopped down in front of her computer. Unfortunately, she had a dozen other problems to solve before she could even begin to address the Spike one. But at least she could make progress with some things.
With a click of her mouse, she opened up the page of financial aid options before settling back in her chair to try to comprehend them all. Maybe she should have been an econ major anyway, she thought ruefully. After all, she still spent all her time worrying about money…
* * *
“Can you…oof…help me?”
Spike looked up from where his attention had been firmly focused on the punching bag to the blond that had addressed him. A curious eyebrow rose at the color-coordinated pink and black workout outfit she was wearing, complete with neon headband. She flashed him a flirtatious little smile and flung her hair back over her shoulder.
“’m sorry?” Spike blinked at her, a little too surprised to have really registered what she said.
“The weights on this machine,” she gestured to the exercise equipment across the room. “They’re really heavy.” The eyelashes were batted once more. “So, yeah, I was wondering if you could help me and all…since you look so strong and all.” She blatantly appraised his shirtless body.
Now, Spike would’ve been lying if he said the attention wasn’t flattering. Frankly, getting dumped - no matter how kindly - tended to leave a bloke wondering if he’d lost his charms. And having the bubble-gum bottle-blond giving him that sultry look definitely let him know that he was still doing something right. Even if it was just working out a lot.
“No problem, pet,” he agreed with a little smirk, checking her out as well. “Just tell me what you need…”
“Hmm,” she flirted back, one finger trailing across the neck of her tank top and drawing his attention to her cleavage. “I’ll show you,” she agreed in a sultry voice, leading him over to one of the biceps machines. “Someone put all these heavy weights on,” she pouted.
He gave her a quirky smile before plucking a twenty-five pound weight off of one end. “No problem, luv,” he assured her.
She let out a high-pitched little squeal at the epithet. “I’m Harmony,” she offered with a Polaroid smile.
“Spike,” he agreed gruffly. Actually, he seemed to recall this bird from somewhere. Part of that whole sorority thing Elizabeth had been into a while back, wasn’t she?
“I see you here a lot,” Harmony commented, sitting on the edge of the bench press and sticking out her chest in a way that made her breasts stick out right into his face as he returned the weights to the tree.
Spike concluded quite quickly that she wasn’t exactly the subtle type. “Like to keep in shape,” he shrugged.
She licked her lips. “Verrry nice shape, too,” she agreed. One leg crossed over the other delicately. “Yeah, I stop by just to, y’know, hang out and stuff.” She snapped her gum.
That mean ‘pick up guys’? Spike couldn’t help but think somewhat snidely. “Great way to blow off steam,” he countered, grabbing the last of the weights and hauling it off.
“Yeah,” she agreed in a dreamy voice, staring at his sweaty chest the whole time.
“That good?” he gestured back to the machine.
“Huh?” Harmony blinked in confusion for a minute. “Oh, um, yeah.” She looked at the machine like it was some kind of alien life form. “I was wondering if you would, um, spot me?”
Spike glanced at the machine. Spotting her on it would undoubtedly involve getting closer to her body than… Oh, what the hell? It was just harmless fun, right? “Not much weight on it,” he pointed out.
“But I hardly ever use it,” she insisted. Her hand brushed his thigh as she passed him and moved to sit down on the padded bench.
With a little smirk, he straddled the bench in front of her and helped her guide her arms into place. “Just in and out,” he instructed.
She flashed him a dazzling smile at his touch, although he had a sneaking suspicion that she hadn’t picked up on his innuendo. He had an even less sneaking suspicion that this bird wasn’t terribly bright.
“So,” she inquired with another - and completely unnecessary - toss of her hair, “school sucks, huh?”
Definitely not terribly bright. “’S all right,” he shrugged.
“Oh, I so feel the same way!” she immediately exclaimed, resting one hand on his bicep.
“Imagine that,” he agreed with an inward roll of his eyes. This seemed to be the kind of girl that got what she wanted because she was so damn easy.
She practically beamed at him. “I bet we’ve got tons of stuff in common,” she agreed. Her toe brushed his shin.
“Oh?” He was actually starting to feel a bit uncomfortable with this whole situation. Flirting was well and good for a little ego-booster, but she seemed to be pressing this whole thing a lot further than he ever wanted to go.
“Who do you like better,” she asked with another flutter of eyelashes, “Britney or Christina?”
“Um, no,” he retorted.
She looked horribly confused by this answer. “I love Britney’s videos,” she shrugged it off. “The whole innocent but sexy thing…” She gave him what he supposed she thought was a seductive look.
He sighed. “Yeah, look, luv,” he said, getting up. “You seem to be doin’ just fine, so I’ll just get back to-”
“Have I mentioned that I love your accent?” Harmony’s fingers trailed to his thigh. “It makes you sound all cultured and, y’know, deep.”
Spike pulled away from her touch, and she visible pouted. “Was in the middle of something,” he informed her gently, turning to go.
She got up and followed him, apparently not getting the clue. “You mind if I watch?”
Well, she was persistent. He had to give her that much. It suddenly occurred to him that if he wanted to, he wouldn’t have to go to bed alone tonight. The looks she was throwing him made it all to clear what she wanted out of him. And it wasn’t like he hadn’t had meaningless flings before…
But that was before Elizabeth.
The thought seemed to resonate through his very bones, but he brushed it aside. After all, hadn’t Elizabeth been the one to tell him that he shouldn’t wait around for her? She couldn’t possibly object if he…
You know it would rip her apart, mate.
He’d had vengeful thoughts that first night after she’d so cruelly dumped him on his ass, sure. Most of them involved finding the hottest thing that would look his way and flaunting her in front of everyone. But, just like most anger-induced fantasies, he’d never actually really wanted to carry through with it.
But now… She’d asked him to wait until she’d made her choice. Now, she’d made it, and he’d tentatively tried to start things up all over again, and she’d still rejected him. What did that mean? Did it mean that she didn’t want him at all anymore? Did she like it better when they weren’t together? Did she-?
His fists were soon pounding into the bag once more, the furious rhythm driving all questions from his mind. This was really the only time he ever truly forgot about her, when he was pummeling something.
He hit the bag until he was raw, sore, panting for breath. And then, just for good measure, he hit it some more. When he finally stopped, he was surprised - and disappointed - to see that Harmony was still watching him.
“You, like, hit it a lot,” she said with a smile.
“Yeah,” he agreed disinterestedly. He reached for his towel.
She beat him to it and handed it to him with another flutter of her eyelashes. “Spikey?” she intoned provocatively.
He flinched at the nickname. “What?” he demanded wearily.
“I was wondering if you, maybe, wanted to come over to Tri Xi this evening.” She slipped in close to him so that their chests were nearly brushing and looked up at him with big, falsely-innocent eyes. “There’s this party, and it’d be really cool if you could come.”
He sighed. “’ve got other plans,” he insisted, turning from her. Elizabeth might not demand that he wait for her, but that didn’t mean he was ready to move on yet. And, if he ever was, it certainly wouldn’t be with someone like Harmony. It was requiring all his limited patience just not to snap at her, she got on his nerves so spectacularly.
“Oh,” Harmony was horribly disappointed. He looked so scrumptious, all sweaty and shirtless, and she had hoped to have a little fun with him tonight. “Well, we could get together sometime,” she pressed, mildly annoyed that he wasn’t the one propositioning her. After all, she was way above him. He should be falling over her feet just for this chance she was giving him to be with her.
“Look,” Spike insisted firmly, “’m flattered but spoken for.”
Harmony frowned and blinked. “No, you’re not,” she insisted. “Everyone knows that Elizabeth finally dumped you.”
The muscle in his jaw ticked and his eyes burned with a dangerous fire. “You don’t know anythin’ about me and Elizabeth,” he hissed vehemently.
Harmony felt her pulse racing. God, he was even sexier than she had thought. “Don’t be like that, baby,” she cooed, sliding her hands up against his chest. “I can make you forget all about that little tramp…”
He swatted her hands away in a violent gesture. “There is no way you could ever even hope to stand up to ‘Lizabeth,” he growled angrily. “And if you don’t wanna see just how angry I can get, I suggest you never speak about her like that again.”
“What if I wanna see you angry?” Harmony retorted coyly.
“God, don’t you know when to back off?” he asked in outraged exasperation. “’m not interested. ‘ll never be interested. ‘Lizabeth is the only one for me. Ever.”
Harmony looked incensed. “I don’t see what’s so special about her,” she huffed. “I’m sure whatever she does, I can do it better.”
“You can’t even understand,” he scowled, stalking from the room.
“Wait!” she called out after him.
“No,” he countered. “This conversation is over. You’ve got no chance in hell.” He belatedly felt a bit bad for how bluntly he’d had to put all of this. “’m sorry,” he amended.
“You’re ‘sorry’?” Harmony exclaimed in horror.
He didn’t hear her, though, having already vanished into the men’s locker room.
“You, you pathetic nothing, are sorry for me?!” she screeched at the closed door. “Well, nobody turns down Harmony Kendall! ‘Cause, yeah, you aren’t really that hot anyway. So there! And by the time I’m done with you, you little nobody, you will be sorry!” And, with that, she huffed off in disgust…
More to come. Be sure to review...