The Season of Shay and Dane by Lucy Lacefield Read Free Book Online Page B

introduce
myself, I don’t want her disgusted by the warmth.
    I rub my spread fingers
up and down on my jeans. The hardness of my thighs being pressed against this
bench, squeezed into heavy denim, makes me glad to get down to the stadium and
change into shorts. I roll my head around one time trying to shake away any
obvious unease. And take a deep breath in and out.
    Just as I get a little
centered, I hear a glass door clang shut from up and around me, and footsteps
for the first time since sitting here. . . but coming from the building. . .
    Not knowing if it’s
her, I don’t want to walk out to the end of the stairs as if I’m presenting
someone with a bouquet of coffee for the being the first person to walk
on them this morning.
    The heightened anxiety
in me comes rushing up and I turn. . . and I can’t help the smile that controls
me immediately.

9
     
     
    shay
    His smile.
    I find myself smiling
too before looking away to say good morning to a fellow grad student passing at
the bottom of the steps.
    As I turn back, he’s
picking something up off of the ground. I’m glad that he’s approaching me; I
feel a little frozen in place.
    “Hi.” He’s just as
gentle looking as he was yesterday, even in all of the commotion.
    “Hi.” I feel for the
strap across my shoulder and slide my bag down to my side.
    “I brought you a coffee
to make up for spilling yours. I’m sure sorry about running into you. Are you
alright?” He steps closer and offers me the cup. There’s a bag taped to the top
of it with little disposable creamers and packets of sugar. The thoughtfulness almost
makes me feel lightheaded, as if I’m in a dream state. As much as I wanted him
to be here, I can’t really believe that he’s standing across from me.
    I reach for the cup, my
fingers lightly grazing his. Now I’m fully alert. “I’m fine, really, not
anything a couple of aspirin couldn’t help,” I nervously manage half-truthfully.
My body still reminded me this morning of the remnants of pain in some places.
“Thank you for the coffee,” I say, looking up at him. His eyes connect with
mine, and in them I can see all of the flecks of colors that make up hazel, in
the softest eyes I’ve ever seen on a man. And for a moment I feel compelled not
to shyly turn away, not instantly, like I would normally.
    “I’m Dane,” he holds
his hand out. A thousand thoughts race past in one second, but not one of them
this time telling me to resist the invitation.
    “. . . Shay,” I say,
sliding my hand into his. The length of his fingers cradles my hand in one soft,
fluid motion and he gently releases it.
    “It’s nice to meet
you.”
     
     
    dane
    My nervousness has all
but left. Just having her here in front of me subdues me—I can’t explain it. And
the touch of her hand, she didn’t resist like she had yesterday, but of course
she was in pain and likely blamed me for being careless. Yet, I don’t even
think now that she would’ve thought that—just an accident.
    I release her hand; the
softness gliding off of my fingertips.
    There’s no reason to
tell her I came back yesterday, or that I already knew her name.
    A light breeze blushes
past us and I can smell the scent of her perfume. She reaches and tucks her
hair loosely behind her ear that’s brushed over her cheek. It’s very pretty, and
the auburn strands catch the sunlight. I turn away briefly, not wanting to
reveal myself, and pretend to look down the sidewalk at the people slowly
starting to cluster around, and then back up at the front of the building.
    “Are you familiar with
the biology building?” she asks, following my gaze.
    Her voice, the way she had
looked yesterday had haunted me and I had all but forgotten how gentle it was. “Only
a little,” I say, recovering and still not wanting to divulge that I took a
self-tour and found her picture, only to be escorted out by the janitor. “Are
you a graduate student. . . in biology?” About half of my classes