“Third.” Abe steps out of the elevator. “It’s dark out. I’ll walk you to your car.”
I make a face and stand in the doorway to the elevator so the doors won’t close.
“I’ll be fine.”
“It’s safer if I walk you,” Abe insists.
The elevator starts to close on me, so I step aside. Fine. If Abe wants to waste his time walking me to my car, that’s his business.
“This is Connecticut, you know,” I say. “Not Detroit.”
Abe shrugs. “Still.”
“How are you going to protect me anyway?” I challenge him. “Are you carrying a weapon?”
He rolls his eyes. “I don’t need a weapon. Nobody’s going to attack me.”
“How come?”
“Heather, come on.”
Okay, I guess Abe is a pretty big guy. Still, he’s not some kind of Superman who can dodge bullets. (Can Superman dodge bullets? I’d assume so. As long as they’re not made of kryptonite.)
“So what would you do if some guy attacked you?”
Abe shrugs. “I don’t know. Sit on him?”
Actually, that would be pretty effective.
I have to admit, itispretty dark out, and the parking lot isn’t particularly well lit. It’s late enough that the lot is completely silent aside from our footsteps echoing on the pavement. As I walk by a white Lincoln Continental I had thought was empty, I detect movement from within the dark car. Like someone is sitting there, waiting. But when I peer through the vehicle’s tinted windows, I can’t make out a face.
“Hey.”
I nearly jump out of my skin at the voice coming from behind me. I reach for Abe’s arm and grab onto it for dear life. But when I turn around, it’s just a kid from school. A second-year, whose name is Gerald or Harold or something along those lines. He’s standing behind us, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his jeans.
“Hey,” Abe says back, although he sounds as confused as I feel.
“You’re Abe, right?” Gerald/Harold says.
Abe’s brow scrunches up. “Uh, yeah…”
Gerald/Harold looks me up and down, frowns, then looks back at Abe. “Well, I just wanted to say hi.”
“Okay.” Abe gives him a little wave. “Hi then.”
Gerald/Harold stands there for another few seconds, like he’s got something else to say. But then he turns on his heel and scurries off in the other direction, casting glances over his shoulder at the two of us.
“What the hell?” Abe says, which is exactly what I’m thinking.
“Friend of yours?”
“Not even close.”
That whole interaction was seriously strange. A shiver goes through me, and I’m suddenly very glad Abe insisted on coming with me. I was joking around with him before, but he could clearly defend me if he needed to.
“This is me,” I tell him, gesturing at my scratched-up Ford.
Abe waits until I’m inside the car and have started up the engine before he turns around and heads in the opposite direction. I’m guessing he had a good study session, too, because there’s a bounce in his step as he walks away.
