Page 30 of Holding Out for a Gyro
Chelsea shot me a smirk. “Yeah, right. Whatarethe odds?”
She wore a dark-brown, knee-length skirt, a soft cream lightweight sweater, and a pair of boots, and I could picture her as one of the university students, heading to the library. I wanted to throw an arm over her shoulder and pull her close, like I was her university boyfriend. I fit the part in my distressed UVA sweatshirt, but it would be a mistake to make unsolicited moves on her. From everything I’d learned about her, she’d fuck me, but she wouldn’t easily hold my hand.
“I am going to straight up murder you,” Evan said through gritted teeth.
“What? Why?” I said, all innocence.
Evan stood, like he was considering making a break for it. “I can’t believe you tricked me. Again.”
Chelsea clucked. “Aw, come on. Don’t be mad.”
“I’m notmad,” he said. “I just don’t like being lied to.”
Elizabeth shook her head, relaxing. “I think they were just having fun. No harm done.”
Chelsea shrugged. “You wouldn’t have hesitated to do the sameto me.”
Elizabeth craned her neck around to the line at the counter. “Can I at least get some coffee? I’m barely awake.”
“We’re not getting coffee at this soulless corporation,” Chelsea said. “We just needed a place to meet.”
“Picnic.” I held up the cooler I’d packed earlier.
“Evan, wouldn’t you like to try those mini pumpkin muffins you were trying to pinch this morning?”
Evan surrendered to the power of food, but I could tell it was only an excuse. When Elizabeth wasn’t looking, he studied her like she was a puzzle he needed to work out.
We let the girls precede us outside and up the path that wound under the Rotunda. UVA grounds in the fall had to be one of the most picturesque sites in the world. Even though I’d never graduated, I always felt a stab of pride that I’d managed to get accepted here, that I’d spent a few years living the academic dream.
Near the Colonnade Club, I spread a blanket under an enormous sugar maple exploding in golden leaves. We were a picture postcard.
Once everyone sat around the edges of the blanket, I grabbed my phone. “This needs to be documented.”
Chelsea and Elizabeth leaned their heads together. Evan smiled like he was posing for a toothpaste commercial. “Say Velveeta!”
I caught the picture right before Chelsea could roll her eyes.
Her expression changed to pure delight once I started unpacking the food. “So I have some mini egg-and-sausage quiches, some pumpkin muffins with a cream cheese filling, a thermos of coffee, and another with hot apple cider.” I looked back in the bag and saw another wrapped item. “Oh, and strawberries.”
“Of course you do.” Chelsea’s sarcasm was belied by her look ofwonder.
“How do you guys know each other, anyway?” Elizabeth asked.
“We were roommates in college,” I answered. “Here, actually.”
Elizabeth nodded. “We were roommates here, too. Now we’re neighbors and heterosexual life partners.”
“You’re what?” Evan croaked.
“She means we’re best friends,” Chelsea clarified. “We spend way too much time together.”
Evan asked, “So what do you do, Chelsea?”
“Little of this, little of that. Like Elizabeth, I cobble together jobs to make rent, but my passion is graphic arts.”
I nudged her. “When I first saw you, I thought you might be a physicist.”
She snorted. “That’s kind of random. Why did you think that?”
