Make Willing the Prey (Dreams by Streetlight) (2 page)

But for all its beauty, there was
no indication of who sent it or why.  She couldn’t think of any upcoming or
recently past special occasions.  And she had dumped Darryl over nine months
ago.  Not that he would send flowers.

A pleasant thought came to mind. 
She smiled at the idea that she might have an admirer.  Especially someone romantic
enough to send flowers.  But who would know where she lived?

She trimmed the stem and felt a
sharp pain in her thumb.  She winched and sucked the blood from the puncture
wound.  She looked for the thorn so she could clip it, but found none. 

Somehow she’d pricked her finger
on a thornless rose. 

The day still conspired against
her, but she wasn’t going to let it win.  She had a stockpile of warm thoughts
as her mind worked on the origin of the rose and the possibility of an
admirer.  That should overcome any number of clumsy, sleep-deprived accidents.

After slapping a band-aid on her
thumb, she dug around for the only vase she owned – a cheap piece of black
plastic with a bulge on the end for holding water.  It looked just as wonderful
in spite of its container.

The rose lightened her mood, but didn’t
make her any less late.  Looking in the mirror one last time, she combed her
short, auburn hair.  Then brushing the lint from her skirt, she bounced from
her apartment in a cheerful mood.

J
ina
popped her head into the door of the History TA’s office. 

“Psst...  Sandy,” she whispered.

Sandy looked up from examining a
student’s paper on the Salem Witch Trials and grinned.

“Hey, Jina,” she said.  “I’ll be
off work in just a few minutes.  I need to finish helping this student with his
mid-term.”

Jina down off to the side, and
slid her backpack to the floor.  She smacked her bubblegum and played with the
beads on her hemp necklace and re-read the flyer she’d taken out in the
courtyard.  Then she read the titles of the books beside her.  Then she looked
at the guy Sandy was helping. 

He was kind of hot.  At least twice
as good looking as any of the other TA’s or students in the room.  Why wasn’t
Sandy flirting with him?

Sandy made a couple of marks on
the last page of the paper.  “Remember, this is due on Wednesday next week.  Good
structure, but do more research and less fantasizing.  Here are some books you
should check out from the library.  Actually read them this time, ok?”

The student nodded with
enthusiasm.  “Yes, Ms. Windham.  I’ll fix it up.  Thanks!”  He left as Sandy flitted
over to her jacket and book bag in the corner. 

“What’s that?” Sandy asked,
pointing to Jina’s flyer and slinging the bag over her shoulder.

“Remember that guy who turned up
missing last fall?  His mom is still handing these out.”

“Yeah, Lewis somebody.  If they
haven’t found him by now, he’s never coming back.  Why don’t you throw that
thing away?”

Jina shrugged.  “One of my
roomies is Wiccan.  Megan.”

Sandy laughed.  “I can’t believe
you buy into that stuff.  Like they used to believe rainwater on tombstones
could cure freckles, but that’s obviously not true.”

“I don’t know if it’s true or
not, but I thought maybe she and I can cast a spell on his picture.  Send out
good energy for his safe return or whatever.  I feel bad for his mom.  She
looked ready to cry.  It just feels like somebody should do something.”

“All right, if it makes you feel
better.”  Sandy bounced to the door and opened it for Jina.

“Why are you so cheerful?  You
got a crush on that guy?”

“What guy?” Sandy asked as they
walked out the door.

“
Him
.”  She pointed ahead
as the student turned a corner and disappeared out of sight.  “He’s pretty hot.” 
Jina fiddled with the tail end of the scarf that dangled from her long blond
hair.

“Him?”  Sandy snorted.  “No way. 
He’s not very bright.  Been in here three times in the past week.  I’m pretty
sure he gets all his information from movies.”  They turned down another
hallway.

“If he’s in here a lot, it means
he’s willing to ask for help, which is an indication that he perseveres and
that he likes to listen.  He can take advice.  It may also mean he’s interested
in you, which is a
very
good sign.  It doesn’t necessarily mean he’s
slow.  He might be brilliant at math or English or science.  No one understands
history.”

Jina caught Sandy’s disapproval
and retreated.  “Sorry.  Not all of us like memorizing when dead people fought
their wars.  Anyway.  Even if he’s not your type, I think you should start
looking for
someone
.  It’s been ages since Darryl.”

Sandy smiled.  “Well, actually,
there
may
be someone who’s into me.”

“That’s the spirit!  Is he sexy?” 

Sandy pushed the door open and
they walked into the sunlit parking lot. 

“I don’t know.  I haven’t seen
him.  And actually, I may just be making things up.  I got an anonymous rose
this morning.  It may just be from a friend, someone in my family, or maybe
Darryl’s trying to get me back.  But, maybe… just maybe it’s from a cute guy. 
I don’t know.”

“A rose?  How wonderful, Sandy! 
That is so romantic.  But it didn’t say who it was from?”

“Nope.  Just the rose.  No card.”

“That may be romantic, or just a
little creepy.  I’m not sure which.”

“I happen to think it’s
romantic.  Anyway, I can dream a little from time to time, can’t I?”

“I didn’t think you capable, but
you certainly have my permission.  But let me take my rare turn being the voice
of reason.  Just in case it doesn’t work out with the rose guy, you should
start looking.  You need someone, Sand.  You’re certainly attractive enough to
get anyone you want.”

“Who are you to talk about
relationships?  Stan was awful to you, and now you’re just as single as I am.”

“Yes, but it hasn’t been
nine
months
since I broke up with him.  You can’t be alone that long.  It’s not
good for your circulation.”  Jina brushed her bangs out of her eyes.

“So when are you going to get a
car?” Sandy said, as she opened the door to her Yugo.

“When I graduate.”  Jina blew a
pink bubble, popped it, pulled the gum back inside her mouth, and got into the
passenger side.

“Like that’s going to happen
anytime soon.”  She smiled and started the car.

“Hey.  It’s going to happen this
year, I swear.”

W
ednesday. 
The week would be over in just two more days.

Wearily, she stacked the mid-term
papers on her desk in a neat little pile.  Her eyes stung but she waited until
the last student left before rubbing them vigorously.  She didn’t stop until
she saw spots.

What a rut.  Graduate studies in
World History, tutoring in the TA’s office, and now this job teaching a history
lab four days a week.  If it weren’t for Jina dragging her to the occasional
party or club, she would rot here at this desk.  Or the one in her office.  Or
the one in the library.

She stood and stretched, her
joints cracking a little, her neck sore from bending over to read endless
crappy papers.  She picked them up and shambled toward the TA’s office. 

Maybe Jina was right.  Maybe it
was time to start looking for a man again.  The rose thing hadn’t panned out. 
No more deliveries, no secret notes, no evidence whatsoever it had been
anything other than a random fluke.

She needed someone to get excited
over.  Something to look forward to.  Someone to cuddle with in the middle of
the night.  All that excitement last week had her wishing for love she never
knew she wanted.

But there had been no further
deliveries.  If she was going to find a man, she should take matters into her
own hands.  But how?  A dating site?  Get out more?  Maybe Jina could hook her
up. 

Sandy wanted someone who would
send her flowers and gifts.  Did men like that even exist anymore?  Or, like her,
were they confined to history and old literature?

Maybe she should just settle for
whoever she could get.  Otherwise, they would end up burying her old spinster
bones in six feet of history books.  Smiling wryly, she fought back images of
her wrinkled self stooped over a desk, squinting through bifocal glasses,
correcting papers and writing books no one would ever read.  She was halfway
there already.

When she opened the door to the
TA’s office, a giant crystal vase full of white roses greeted her.

Her heart beat a little faster. 
She dared not hope they were for her.  But Rob, one of the TA’s, walked over to
her and said, “Hey Sandy.  You seem to have a secret admirer.”

She moved closer, not sure what
to think or how to feel.  A tiny card hung from one of the stems.

The front card displayed a banner
of pastel flowers encircling the logo of a local floral shop, Gregorelli’s. 
There was a simple message written on it in elegant, old-fashioned script:

        To Beautiful Sandy: 

                    The first
dozen roses

                    A very good
start

                    More will be coming

                    To warm your
sweet heart

                                S.A.

She grinned.  Now she wouldn’t
have to go to any lame dating sites. 

“Who brought these?” she asked.

“A Gregor-somebody’s delivery
guy.  He came in about an hour ago.”

So she did have a secret
admirer. 

Was it the same person who sent
the first rose?  This note said these were the first roses.  The first dozen
anyway.  And this S.A. person wouldn’t have any way of knowing where she lived,
especially if he were a student.  A coincidence, then?  A copycat who overheard
her talking with Jina? 

She put her nose to one of the
buds and inhaled the clean scent and wondered what S.A. was like.