Chasing Paris Page 6

  Will felt his hopes rising. “You know who she is?”

  Professor Hollings cleared his throat. “Oddly enough—by a strange twist of fate, perhaps—I did know Amy. Yes. You know, we see so many students pass through our classrooms every quarter, and we get to know so very few of them on a personal level. Most students listen to lectures, occasionally visit in office hours or send emails, write papers, and move on. You and Amy are part of the shrinking group of students who go beyond that and share your lives with us.”

  “So you really know her?” Will’s hopes continued to rise.

  Hollings nodded. “Yes. She was a nice young woman with lots of energy, although I didn’t realize the notes she took in her book during lectures weren’t notes on what I was saying.” He grinned, leaning forward to hand the receipt back to Will. “Lots of really blonde curly hair, she had. It was last year, I remember, when I had her in class. She was a smart one, a talented writer. I remember her, aside from the curly blonde hair, because she came in here quite frequently to talk about what she was going to do after graduation. She was a senior, you know. Wanted to do something brilliant, just didn’t know what. I think she had her eyes set on journalism. Wanted to say something—something important. Very ambitious girl. Had that glint in her eyes.” He leaned back in his chair again.

  “So, what’d you tell her?”

  “I told her to do it. I told her to go out there and write the hell out of anything she wanted to.” He chuckled again, remembering, and then sighed. “We talked about the different routes she could take to achieve her goals and make money_ at the same time. She was one of those people who needed to do what she loved. Some people can take jobs that simply meet their needs for survival.” Professor Hollings shook his head. “She was not one of those people—that would not be enough for her.”

  Will nodded, letting Hollings’ words sink in. After a moment of silence, he said, “I’d like to return the book to her. I don’t think she meant to sell it back.”

  “It seems unlikely that she’d purposefully put personal information in the hands of strangers.”

  “I agree.”

  “So the task before us is finding Amy since she graduated last year. Have you tried Googling her?”

  Will nodded. “And I’ve tried social media, too. When I was looking for her on the internet, I didn’t know if she had graduated or not, but I tried the alumni directories as well. I couldn’t find her.”

  Hollings didn’t respond. Will wondered if he was trying to decide whether or not it would be appropriate to give out more information about Amy.

  “Professor, I know this sounds ridiculous.” Will paused, wishing that he could come up with an explanation that would make sense. Nothing came, so he settled for saying, “I just don’t think she’d want this book floating around from student to student. And,” he paused again, looking down at the book, “I think she’s interesting.”

  The professor nodded. “She is.” After a moment, he continued. “She’s from Los Gatos, up in Northern California. I know she has a sister who also went to UCLA and became a kindergarten teacher. I don’t know how far that will get you, but it’s all I really know about her.”

  Will leaned his elbows on his knees and looked at the ground as relief washed over him. Los Gatos. That simplified everything.

  He looked up. “That is excellent news. She’s not far from where I live—not at all. Thank you, Professor.”

  “It’s not much, but it might be enough to find her.”

  Will nodded. He tried to gather his thoughts, but not much was coming together just yet. He needed some time.

  “I really appreciate your help. I know that you have a lot of work to do, so I won’t take up any more of your time.” He reached forward to shake Hollings’ hand and then grabbed his backpack. Standing, he slowly pulled it over his shoulders, his eyes wandering around the office, still trying to process what he needed to do.

  “Will.” The professor’s voice drew Will’s eyes toward him. “It might not be easy to find her, but I think fate is on your side. What were the chances that you and Amy would take English 151—at separate times—creating a direct link through me? And then what were the chances that your roommate would end up with her book a year later? And then that you would pick up the book and become intrigued? Not just anyone would want to take that book back to her. I may be an old man who believes in the magic of those stories,” he pointed toward Will’s book, “but I say the planets are aligned, Will. It may not be easy, but fate, I think, is on your side.”

  Will nodded. “I hope you’re right.” He smiled and gave a little wave as he walked backward toward the door. “Have a great summer, Professor. I’ll see you in class next fall.” He turned and left the office.

  Outside, Will pulled his cell phone from his pocket. He scrolled through his contacts and found a name he hadn’t sent a message to since he and Jocelyn broke up.

  Hey Kim, he began the text message. I know how to find the girl who wrote in Chris’ book. I know who she is.

  EIGHT

  “W

  ill, listen, this is our last night in Westwood,” Chris said as he and his roommates walked out the front doors of their apartment’s lobby. “We are walking straight to the bar. We’re not stopping to talk to someone at a coffee shop or someone in line at a movie theater or someone waiting for food outside a restaurant. Straight to the bar.”

  “Except we are stopping to pick up Sarah and the girls first,” Brian interjected.

  “Right,” Chris continued, “but aside from that, we’re walking straight to the bar.”

  “You make it sound like I get distracted at every corner,” Will said.

  “You do,” his three roommates said together.

  “If I stop to talk to someone, you don’t have to wait for me. I’ll catch up.”

  “If you actually managed to catch up, we might go along with that,” Chris said. “But that never happens.”

  Will knew his roommate was right, so he didn’t protest.

  “We ought to get a leash for him,” Ralph said.

  “I’ll prove to you that I can walk all the way down to Westwood without stopping,” Will said. “And when I do, you each should buy me a beer for my efforts.”

  His roommates laughed but agreed. And with the incentive of three free beers, Will focused on getting straight to Westwood without hanging back to chat with any old friends he might see on the way down. When the group stopped in front of Sarah’s apartment to meet up with the girls, Will kept going.

  “I’ll see you down there,” he said while turning around and walking backward. “I’m not going to risk getting distracted while you wait for those three girls to get down here.” He turned around again and kept heading toward the village center.

  At the edge of town, Will spied his destination and got in line so that the bouncers could check his I.D. Just as he was walking in, he heard his roommate behind him.

  “Will, we’ll meet you upstairs,” Chris called from the end of the line.

  Will nodded. “Have my beers ready for me,” he called back. He waved and walked inside.

  Music pulsed against his ears. Beer that had splashed across the floor clung to the bottom of his shoes. Girls with lowered inhibitions squeezed past him, most likely heading for the bathroom. Will took a deep breath of the stale air and smiled. He made his way to the bar and ordered a pint of beer. As he paid for the drink, he saw his roommates climbing the stairs toward a section of booths against the back of the bar. He made eye contact with Chris. With one hand he held up his beer, and with his other, he held up three fingers. “Get me my three beers,” he mouthed.

  Just as Will was about to head toward the stairs, he felt a hand on his shoulder.

  “Hey, Will, how are you? We haven’t seen you forever!”

  He turned around and saw two girls from an English class he took last year. He couldn’t remember their names, but he knew they were sorority sisters. And they both hated Shakespe
are.

  “Hey, good to see you!” he said, extending his arms and inviting them into a hug.

  After a conversation about the girls’ most recent classes and sorority functions, Will wished them a good summer and turned toward the stairs again.

  “Hey Will! How you’d do on that final this morning?”

  He turned toward the sound of his name and saw a friend from his Detective Fiction class.

  “Good, buddy. How about you?”

  After they discussed the last short essay question on the test, Will gulp down the rest of his beer and ducked toward the bar to order another. Or two.

  And then, two beers in hand, he put his head down and ventured toward the stairs, hoping to avoid anyone else he knew for the time being.

  But then he saw her. Halfway up the stairs, he finally looked up, and there she was. Jocelyn. She was standing in the middle of the stairway with Kim and some guy. He paused. Then he continued climbing upward, slower now, wondering if the guy standing there was dating his ex-girlfriend. Kim noticed Will before Jocelyn did. She nudged Jocelyn and nodded in his direction.

  He stopped one step below Jocelyn. They were face-to-face, and probably a little too close for comfort under normal, daytime circumstances. In a bar, the night before heading home for the summer, the distance was probably okay.

  “Hey Jos,” he said. He wanted to follow up with something witty, but nothing came to him.

  She forced a smile. “Will. Hi.” She looked as though she were at a loss for words as well.

  After a moment of nothing but music filling the space between them, Kim jumped in and said, “Hey Will, how’re ya doing?”

  “Hey Kim, I’m good. How about you?”

  “Good, thanks. It’s nice to see you.” Kim turned to speak with the guy standing with her and Jocelyn. She touched his arm to get his attention, but he didn’t look toward her. He continued to stare at Jocelyn and Will.

  “I haven’t seen you in a while,” Jocelyn said.

  “I know. It’s been a long time.” Will glanced around the bar. “What are you doing here? You hate this bar.” He knew he was shouting to compete with the blaring music, and somehow he knew his volume made him sound drunk even though he wasn’t—not yet. The air felt hot and thick, just as the air in bars often felt, but suddenly it was hotter and thicker.

  She forced another smile. Then she leaned in and said, “I know. It’s Mandy’s birthday, and this is where she wanted to come. So, here we are. But now Kim and I can’t even find Mandy.”

  She wasn’t shouting. She was composed as she always was. Smelling of vanilla lotion and spearmint gum, looking calm and comfortable, she hadn’t changed at all.

  Jocelyn straightened up and scanned the crowd downstairs.

  Will nodded. “I’ll let you know if I see her.”

  “Thanks.” After a prolonged pause, she added, “It was good to see you.”

  “Yeah, good to see you, too.” Will nodded at the guy who had been watching the conversation, and then he continued up the stairs, concentrating on keeping the beer in the glasses.

  Upstairs he found his roommates and the girls sitting in a booth, talking and laughing over the music. Will stood at the end of the table and downed one of his beers. Then he squeezed into the booth and dropped the two glasses on the table with a thud. Beer from the full one splashed across the table. Chris eyed him but didn’t say anything.

  “I can’t believe you made it,” Brian said.

  “What do you mean?” Will grumbled.

  “We knew you got to the bar first, but we figured you’d never make it upstairs.”

  “Well, I did. And you all owe me a beer.” Will picked up the glass that he had just half-spilled across the table and poured the rest down his throat.

  Before Will could drop the empty glass on the table, Kim appeared next to him.

  “Will, don’t worry about it. That guy is…” she trailed off, noticing that everyone at the table was looking at her. After a moment, she reached in her purse and pulled out a pen. Snatching the only dry napkin on the table, she crouched toward it and wrote something down. “Remember this,” she said, handing the napkin to Will and then heading back toward the stairs.

  “What was that?” Chris asked.

  Will looked at the napkin. Forget about Jos and that guy, Kim had written. Remember what Hollings said. The planets are aligned. You are going to find Amy tomorrow!

  He looked up and toward Chris. “Nothing.” He folded the napkin and put it in his pocket. “I’ll tell you later. Go get my beers.”

  Chris got up and pulled Brian out of the booth with him. They headed toward the bar together. Will tried to focus on the conversation that Ralph was having with the girls. Nothing they said seemed to penetrate his brain. Their words slid right over him and evaporated into the thick, stale air. Forget about Jos, he said to himself. No problem. She’s forgotten already. It’s that idiot she’s with—he’s the hard one to forget.

  When Chris and Brian returned, Will drank his beers just as quickly as he had the others. He continued listening to the conversation, but the words continued to pass him by. After the third sideways glance from Chris, he stood up.

  “I’m hungry. I’m going to get some pizza.”

  Everyone sitting at the table looked toward him, but he walked away before they could answer.

  Outside, the night air cooled Will’s arms and neck. Finally, he could breathe. He walked down the street toward his go-to late night pizza place. Forget about Jos and that guy, Kim’s note had said. Forget about them. Why shouldn’t he forget about them? Jos had been forgotten for months. Well, she had been completely forgotten until Amy’s book resurfaced some memories of her. But that guy—there was something about that guy.

  Upon arriving at the pizzeria, he ordered a slice of pepperoni and sat down at the counter next to the shop’s front window. He stared out the glass at the passersby enjoying Westwood’s nightlife and swallowed half his pizza in one bite.

  “Will, hey!”

  He turned around in his stool and saw three girls from his days in the dorms walking toward him.

  “Hey,” he said with a mouth full of pizza and a smile. “Haven’t seen you all in forever. How are you?”

  The girls approached and began chatting rapidly about their last finals, their time living together in an off-campus apartment, their boyfriends, and their last trip to Lake Havasu for spring break. Will continued eating. He nodded, smiled, and chuckled whenever their facial expressions indicated that a chuckle was appropriate. He wasn’t sure if all the beer had kicked in or if he just didn’t care about what they had to say, but concentrating on their words was getting harder and harder.

  Just as one of the girls squealed and the other two laughed—something about a missing bathing suit being found—Will’s eyes caught sight of Jocelyn walking past the pizza shop. His head snapped toward the window. She wasn’t alone. The guy from the bar was accompanying her toward the apartments at the north end of Westwood. Jocelyn didn’t see him sitting at the front window, but her companion looked into the restaurant. His gray eyes locked with Will’s for a moment. Then he grabbed Jocelyn’s hand as they continued on their way.

  Something clicked.

  A memory from the beginning of the school year burst into his mind. It was night. He was walking into a bar. He was seeing Jocelyn talking to some guy against the back wall. He was watching them laugh.

  Who the hell is this? Will had said, approaching his girlfriend and the stranger.

  Hey Will, this is my friend from Econ, Jocelyn had answered. Will, meet—

  Let’s go. He grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the front of the bar.

  What are you doing? What’s wrong with you?

  Don’t you see that he’s hitting on you? Why were you even talking to him?

  You’re crazy. You’ve had too much to drink.

  The scene changed. It was still the same night and the same place, only now he stood outside with his
roommates, waiting for Jocelyn and her friends to get out of the bathroom.

  A group of bar-hoppers walked by, and Will heard one of them say something.

  There’s that jackass.

  He looked toward the voice. It belonged to the guy Jocelyn had been talking to earlier.

  Hey, Will said. Who are you talking to?

  The guy stopped and turned around. He smirked. I’m not talking to you. I’m talking about you.

  Will stepped forward. Chris and Ralph immediately grabbed his arms, but he shook them off. Is there a reason for that?

  The guy continued to smirk. I’m just stating the obvious.

  Do we have a problem here?

  The guy stepped toward Will. We might.

  They stood inches away now, staring each other down. The guy was shorter and bulkier than Will. His eyes were steely. Sharp.

  Will, what are you doing? Jocelyn’s voice caught in his ears just as she appeared, pushing herself between him and the steely-eyed guy.

  The scene changed again. He was back in the apartment, lying on his bed, talking on the phone to Jocelyn in the dark.

  I can’t do this anymore, she said. I can’t keep going on, worrying that I’ll find you in a jealous rage over some random person I met in Econ.

  I didn’t start it.

  It doesn’t matter. I can’t do this anymore.

  One of the girls in the pizza shop touched Will’s arm, bringing him back to reality. “So,” she laughed, “I looked under the couch, and there was my phone. I couldn’t believe it.”

  Will smiled. “It’s a good thing you found it.” He glanced back at the front window, watching Jocelyn and the steely-eyed guy shrink with distance.

  He’s not just a friend from Econ anymore, I guess.

  ***

  The following morning, Will awoke with a headache. As rocks rattled against the walls of his head, visions of the previous night danced across his mind. Making it down to the bar without distraction. Seeing Jocelyn and that guy. Getting three free beers. Reading the note Kim wrote. Leaving before anyone else to get pizza. Seeing Jocelyn and that guy walk past the pizza place. Arriving home after his roommates, despite leaving the bar before them.