his hand on the handle. He felt nervous, which was strange. He hadn’t felt that in a long time. Get a grip, Michael! He told himself, clutching his file under his arm. He took in a deep breath, turned the handle and walked in to face a large room full of faces that looked up at him all at once. Damn! He thought, feeling like a rat in a cage. Here goes.
* * *
M ichael was back in his apartment by three.
He sat in blissful silence. He’d done it.
Relief washed over him quickly as he sat leaning on the dining table with his head in his hands. He’d managed to get through it. There were no hiccups, no one had questioned his work and he hadn’t made a fool of himself like he thought he would. He’d survived it. No more classes or lectures for today. Thank God.
He’d grabbed a coffee from the machine downstairs on his way back and was about to enjoy it when the phone rang. He reached over and grabbed the handset from its cradle on the kitchen counter and answered, “Hello.”
“Hello, Mr Warden?” a male voice said at the other end.
“Yes, speaking.”
“I’m from Oakley Laundry services. Your suit is ready, sir.”
Michael had dropped it into them yesterday afternoon, but had forgotten all about it with everything that had happened. “Oh. Great. I’ll come collect it. What time do you close up?”
“Five-thirty, sir.”
“I’ll be there before then. Thanks very much.”
“You’re welcome.” The voice said before hanging up.
Michael didn’t have much but there were a few things he always made sure he did have: a computer, for research purposes; a heap of fake IDs, for when he needed to be someone else; a gun, which he’d stored away under a loosened floorboard by his bed; and a good suit.
He had the rest of the day off so he figured it was a good time to go into town and pick up his suit and get some groceries and a few other things he needed.
Oakland was a small town. There seemed to be plenty of stores, though they were all pretty small: thrift stores, grocery stores, coffee bars, the odd second hand book store and a sports store which sold mostly college stuff.
After picking up his suit and grabbing some groceries from the store across the street from the cleaners, Michael began to head back to his car. He noticed a young man leaning against a wall by the bus shelter up ahead, hood up, smoking a cigarette. As he got closer, the man looked up at him and as soon as he saw Michael he pushed himself from the wall and began to walk away. It was Jake, the guy he’d seen Nina leaving the bar with last night.
Michael called out to him as he upped his pace. “Hey!”
The young man stopped and slowly turned around. His black, hooded top was torn on the arm and his scruffy indigo jeans didn’t fare much better. The guy lifted his head and as he stood and stared, as if Michael had inconvenienced him, he played with the piercing in his bottom lip with his tongue. Michael saw another stud in his left eyebrow.
“You go to SPU right?” Michael asked.
Jake flicked away what was left of his cigarette; sparks flickered from it when it hit the ground a few feet away. “Yeah. I’ve got no classes this afternoon, though.”
“That’s ok ay. I just saw you last night with Nina. You were leaving the bar with her, right?” Michael tried to sound as casual as possible.
His eyes narrowed. “Yeah. Why?”
“Well, it looked like you were arguing. Is everything all right? I’m a little concerned about her that’s all.” Michael explained. He was just clutching at straws, but he had a feeling that something was going on between the two of them and found it a little strange given how upset Nina was last night about her boyfriend dying. It was probably nothing, but it was an avenue he felt he had to explore before he could move on.
“She was just in a weird kind of mood. She’s like that. She stormed off back to her dorm or something, I guess,” he replied. His voice was almost as blank as
Rebecca Hamilton, Conner Kressley