Looking for Julie (7 page)

“I want to talk to you too, Sam. Come with us,” Edie said.

She followed them into the dorm. “Who is your hall advisor?” Edie asked.

“Mike Paltzer, but he’s a wimp. He’s not going to tackle Nate.” Jamie hunched into his jacket. He’d told Sam that the cold and talking hurt his face.

Sam tagged along behind. She thought Mike would probably say, “Okay, okay,” and when Edie was gone, everything would go back to the way it had been.

Mike was in his corner room, nodding his head to something on his iPod when Edie tapped on the doorframe. Jamie was out of sight, backed up against the wall in the hallway, breathing shallowly. He looked like a Halloween mask. Sam stood behind Edie, interested in how she was going to handle this.

“Hey, Mike. I’m Edie Carpenter.” Mike jumped to his feet and shook her proffered hand. “I think we have a problem here.”

“What’s that?” He began working a zit and Sam looked away.

“I understand Nate Bloomburg’s girlfriend has moved into Room 315.”

His chewed fingernails kept at the zit as he stared at Edie. “Yeah? That would be Betsy Schmidt. I think she just spends a lot of time there.”

“Like overnight and all day.” Edie turned around as if to confirm this with Jamie and only saw Sam, who nodded.

“Who is this?” Mike asked.

“Samantha Thompson. She’s a friend of Jamie’s.”

“Oh, yeah. Does she want to move in too?” He snickered.

“Who is head of student housing? Stuart Evans? Is that who I should talk to?”

“Where’s Jamie? Can’t he speak for himself?” Mike stuck his bristly chin out. The red zit glowed.

Jamie slid around the corner, presenting his Technicolor face to Mike, who gasped. “Jesus, did Nate do that to you?”

“No, but he’s probably going to do worse. Can you get that girl out of my room, please? They go at it like rabbits and don’t care who sees.”

Mike smirked. “Maybe I should go take a peek.” One look at Edie and he backtracked. “No, no, I didn’t mean that. I’ll tell him.”

“He won’t listen,” Jamie said, sounding defeated.

“He’ll listen to Stuart Evans and Mr. Evans will wonder why you haven’t done anything about the situation, Mike.”

Sam wondered who the hell was Stuart Evans, but she thought Edie was awesome. Maybe Edie could get Nita’s girlfriend out of the apartment. Maybe she could threaten Nita with the landlord, but then Nita would hate Sam and she didn’t want that either.

Mike’s eyes shifted away from Edie’s. “I said I’d tell him.”

“Let’s tell him together right now.”

“I don’t know if he’s there,” Mike said sullenly.

“We can find out. You go first. We’ll follow.”

Jamie said sotto voce, “Oh God Oh God Oh God. He’s going to kill me.”

Edie must have heard him too, because she said, “No, he’s not. Come on, Mike, The day is almost over.”

“Was it some straight dude who hated the hair, Carpenter?” Mike led the way with dragging feet.

“Something like that,” Jamie said.

The door of Jamie’s room was closed. Mike knocked on it. They heard feet shuffling, and Nate yelled, “We’re busy in here. Go away.”

“Open the door, Nate,” Edie said.

More shuffling and a girl’s voice said, “Wait, Nate.” Sam figured she was putting on her clothes.

Nate opened the door halfway. He had the body of a football player, which he had been in high school. No wonder Jamie was afraid to displease him. “What do you want?”

“I want my room back,” Jamie said, stepping forward.

“Yeah, who took it away from you?” Nate’s eyes widened. “And I didn’t do that to his face.”

“Your girlfriend can’t live here. She has to go wherever home is at night. You can’t fuck here.”

Nate grimaced. “Look at him. He even looks like a fairy with that purple hair. All he needs is tights and a wand.”

Edie moved to the fore. “I think we’ve got a grievance we can take to the Student Housing Administration. We’re wasting our time here.” She turned and started walking away. “Have you got any rooms where Jamie could bunk in the meantime, Mike?”

“No. Listen, I can’t make Nate do anything.”

“Well, then maybe we should insist Nate move into your room, Mike, and you and Jamie can share his room.”

“I don’t think we can do that.” Mike was fingering the offending zit again.

“I’ll move into Mike’s room. He can room with Nate.”

“No way,” Mike said.

Edie pulled her cell out of her pocket, along with a list of administrative offices and tapped in a number. Sam was walking right behind her and heard the message.

“Office hours are eight to five Monday through Friday. Leave a message after the tone and we’ll return your call. For emergencies call...”

Edie ended the call and pushed in another number. On the fifth ring someone answered in a booming voice... “Peter Koskowski here. Can I help you?”

Edie proceeded to tell Koskowski what was going on in Jamie’s room.

Koskowski cleared his throat loudly. “What building is this?”

She told him. Sam could hear every word on both ends. “Can he stay somewhere else till Monday?”

“Not really.”

“Will it help if I send someone there to talk to this Nate?”

“Not in my opinion. You might scare him for a few days. He might also take it out on Jamie Carpenter, my nephew.”

“I’ll have to go in to the office to see if there is a room available. I’ll take care of Nate and his girlfriend later. Meet me there.” He gave Edie an address.

“Uh-oh,” Jamie said, who could also hear.

Mike leaned against his doorframe, his fingers traversing his face.

Sam was in awe. She wanted to be just like Edie someday. She and Jamie trooped down the stairs behind her.

Jamie said, “Hey, Aunt Edie, can you hang around long enough for me to get my stuff out of the room? I don’t have a car if I have to move to another dorm.”

Sam knew he was more afraid of Nate than of carrying his stuff to another building. There were carts for that.

“We’ll see what happens here.”

Peter Koskowski stared hard at Jamie and cleared his throat. Like his voice, he was big. “This is true that Nathan Bloomburg’s girlfriend, Betsy Schmidt, practically lives with him?”

“Yes, sir. They do things there that I don’t want to watch.”

“What happened to your face?”

“A guy in a black truck with license plate TRUCKIN 2 beat me up.”

“Because?”

Jamie looked down. “He’s been stalking me since we had an incident in a parking lot.”

“What happened?”

“I nearly backed into him.”

“Okay. I’ll find you a room if you dye your hair back to its normal color. Then you won’t have so much trouble. Deal?”

“Deal,” Jamie said, looking down. Sam knew he didn’t think that was fair. He believed his hair was his own to do with as he wanted.

Edie laughed. “Hey, it’ll save you a lot of trouble, nephew.”

Jamie pouted. When he was up against authority, he always balked. Sam gave him a shove. “You can be a blonde. They have more fun.”

They left to investigate Jamie’s new room, which was in the same building across the hallway from Mike’s. It was a hidey-hole of a place that had been used for storage. It had a bed, a desk and a dresser shoved against each other. The closet was behind a curtain.

By the time they were done moving Jamie’s stuff out of his old room, it was after eight and Sam was starved. They had not had to confront Nate, because he and Betsy were gone.

“Thanks for helping,” Edie said to Sam.

“We can go to my place and eat my mom’s leftovers,” Sam said.

“I’ll bring the rest of mine,” Jamie offered.

“Okay,” Edie said.

Nita was gone to work, Sam knew. She warmed up the last of the chicken and the butternut squash and green beans.

“Great leftovers,” Edie said, but she ate little. “What are you going to do, Sam?”

Sam’s blue gaze shot to meet hers. “Can you do something?” She blushed and dropped her eyes.

“Yeah Auntie, can you tell the landlord that there’s another girl living here and not paying?”

“Sam can do that herself.”

“Nita will hate me.”

Edie smiled at Sam. “You could sleep at Jamie’s when the girlfriend is here. Buy yourself one of those blow-up beds.”

“I’ve got a sleeping bag,” Sam said dispiritedly. She used it as an extra blanket.

Edie stood up. “I must go if I’m going to drive home tonight. Thanks for the food. Your mother is a fabulous cook.”

“Welcome,” Sam said, her appetite gone.

“And you, nephew, do as the man said. Re-dye your hair and try to stay out of trouble.”

“You saved my life, Auntie. I’ll be forever grateful.” Jamie kissed her on the cheek and walked to the door with her. “Sure you don’t want to stay overnight?”

Edie laughed. “And sleep where?”

When Edie’s larger than life presence was gone, Sam wondered if Jamie felt as vulnerable as she did. She was at the mercy of Nita and her mouth. He was at risk from the man in the black truck and Nate. “We should hire her for protection,” she said.

“Nah, we’re good. Hey, I’m gonna go fix up my room. Want to help?”

She wanted to be anywhere but at the apartment when Nita came home. “Can I bring my sleeping bag?”

“Sure. Bring your books and stuff. You can bunk with me.”

Maybe Nita would beg her to come back if she stayed away long enough, because she’d have to buy her own food instead of eating Sam’s. She hastily crammed clothes in an empty bag and put her school stuff in her backpack, including her computer. Jamie carried her sleeping bag and her pillow.

Edie was sitting in the car with the motor running. They walked to the Focus, and Jamie pounded on the window. He laughed when Edie jumped. “What are you doing out here?” he yelled.

She rolled the window down a few inches. “Waiting for someone.”

“You can wait inside,” he said and turned to Sam. “You don’t care, do you?”

“That’s okay. It won’t be long,” Edie said. “Is Sam moving in with you?”

“Maybe.”

“Well, be discreet about it, both of you. Okay?”

“I am the soul of discretion,” Jamie said.

“Try anyway. I’ll give you a lift, but I have to call someone first. Just wait a minute.”

“Hey, we’re used to hoofing it.”

Sam was thinking she’d like a ride. She stamped her boots against the cold seeping up through the snow-covered ground.

“Bye, Auntie. Thanks for everything.” He blew a kiss toward Edie and started off with Sam at a running walk.

When they reached the dorm, they took the steps two at a time to the third floor and Sam slipped off her backpack and set it in a corner in the crowded room.

“That’s your side,” Jamie said. “We’ll have to get you something soft to put your sleeping bag on.”

Later, when Sam was in the rather grim bathroom on the other side of the common room in the girl’s wing brushing her teeth, one of the members of the LGBT group came out of a stall, zipping up her jeans. Sam watched her in the mirror, trying to place her. Her short cap of dark hair framed a heart-shaped face with bold blue-gray eyes and a wide mouth.

She turned on the water in the sink next to Sam. “Hey, how come we’ve never met here before?”

Sam smiled at her in the mirror, her mouth full of toothpaste. She spit in the sink and rinsed off her toothbrush. “Guess we didn’t have to go at the same time.”

“I thought you moved into an apartment with Nita Perez.”

“I did. I’m staying here tonight with a friend,” Sam said, assessing the girl in the mirror.
What was her name?

“Hey, want to hang out with us tomorrow night—Toni and Lisa and me? My room is 317. Bring anyone you want. You could bring Nita.” She grinned, and Sam felt a blush starting up from her toes for no reason at all. “What’s your room number?”

What was it?
She rummaged around in her mind and said, “It’s the one by the stairs on the other side of the common room, but I’ve got to work tomorrow night.” She shrugged and made a face, not sure whether to feel relieved or sorry.

“That’s the men’s wing,” and the girl surprised Sam by touching her cheek with one wet finger. “What are you doing with a guy?”

“You know Jamie Carpenter, don’t you? He’s the friend.”

“Yeah, I know him,” the girl said. “Met him at an LGBT meeting.”

 When she left, Sam looked at her reflection. The blush was fading. Her eyes, the ones that felt like hot holes, were her best feature. Her mother had once said she could see the sky reflected in her eyes, but of course her mother would think such a thing. No one else would.

They had made some order in Jamie’s room. The twin bed was pushed against the far wall. The desk was crammed next to it. The dresser stood in the closet with clothes piled on top. Her sleeping bag lay atop a cushion of dirty clothes.