Falling in the Dark | ✓

7 | Eeyore

I open my eyes and look up when a pair of hands shake me gently. Vera's face looms close as she crouches over my bed, staring down at me with a disapproving frown. She's saying something, but I can't discern the words with the music playing so loudly in my ears. When I sit up and take off my headphones, the sudden quiet is disorienting. I have to blink a few times before I can focus on my best friend.

"Stop moping, Eeyore!" Vera says, shaking her head so vigorously that her red-orange curls slap her cheeks.

"Oh, bother," I grumble, flopping back onto the bed.

"Winnie the Pooh says that, not Eeyore," she laughs, dragging me back to a sitting position with considerable effort.

I shrug and move to lean against the wall, my back slumping in dejection.

"So what if Felix isn't the guy?" she demands, crossing her arms and fixing her big, round eyes on me. "You're going to find him, Car."

"Thanks," I say, forcing a smile. "But if it's the guy that didn't even show up for the interview, I have no way of finding him."

Fifteen guys. Fourteen names.

Vera looks defeated, but only for a second. "What are the odds that it's him, anyway? Let's see. We know it's not Felix or Ben."

A few days ago, Vera had logged into her Facebook page to show me pictures of Ben Young. He looked rather intimidating in a typical-bad-boy-with-a-pierced-ear way. He had an intense gaze in each of his pictures, as though he shared a terribly important secret with the photographer. But one look at his flowing blonde waves — so long and impressive that it could only be called a mane — confirmed that he wasn't the short-haired stranger I was looking for.

"That leaves twelve people. It's not as hard you think," Vera says with the cheer of a kind teacher handing her student a consolation prize.

I smile at her attempts at making me feel better. The late evening sky is a deep purple outside the small rectangular window. A big group of students is walking away from the dorm, probably to the same party that Vera is so eager to attend. 

"Oh," Vera exclaims, staring down at her phone. "I have to get ready!"

It's only as she's dressing and putting on makeup that I notice the subtle yet odd change in her behavior. The slight spring in her step, the soft tune she's humming under her breath.

"What are you so happy about?" I ask, watching her reflection as she stands in front of the mirror, carefully applying mascara.

"It's nothing," she says dismissively, but I can tell it's not nothing. "I called Liam."

I sit up straighter. "And?"

"We had lunch. He was acting a bit distant and weird, but he's probably just stressed or something. I think we're okay now."

"I'm glad you made up," I say, smiling genuinely. The hope is a little too evident in my voice when I ask, "Why don't you guys go out tonight instead?"

Vera's eyes flit to mine for an instant. She closes her yellow tube of mascara with a slow, deliberate twist before saying, "I'm going to the party, Carmen. I'll be fine, stop worrying."

"Okay," I say quickly, averting my gaze to the window again.

"Do you want to come with me?" she asks a moment later. But the way she poses the question makes it sound like she's asking just to be polite.

Is she hoping I'll say no? Or am I imagining the reluctance in her tone?

"No, that's okay."

Maybe I'm also imagining the way her shoulders drop ever-so-slightly with relief.

"Why don't you go for a night swim again?"

The idea sounds tempting, but I shake my head.

"Go and enjoy yourself. I'll stay here and be miserable," I mutter with exaggerated despair. "I'm pretty sure Eeyore said that."

Vera rolls her eyes at me before throwing her head back and bursting into laughter.

❅

I feel ridiculous, sitting on a cool wooden bench at around 9:00 PM, dressed in my simple black halter one-piece with a white towel wrapped around my waist. The vast swimming pool is so inviting, its heated water glimmering under the lights on the domed ceiling. A handful of people are swimming, their mismatched strokes echoing all the way across the room. But I can't bring myself to swim in it because of the couple at the far end. The girl's high-pitched giggles are loud enough to be heard over everything else. If I squint, I can barely make out that the boy is splashing her, and she's got her arms raised in defense. The others seem unbothered by the couple, but their in-your-face happiness hits me like a strong punch.

Shutting my eyes tight, I tip my head back and let it hit the wall repeatedly, but not hard enough to cause pain. Thud, thud, thud.

A male voice rings out from somewhere to my left where the pool entrance stands. I keep my eyes closed, not paying attention to the name being called.

Thud, thud, thud.

What if he left before the interview because he doesn't want to be found?

The sudden thought hits me with full force, causing my fists to clench and my teeth to grind together. It's the kind of scary revelation that comes very late, but once it does, you're absolutely convinced that it's true.

Someone climbs out of the side of the pool closest to me, causing noisy, distracting splashes.

He doesn't want me to find him. He doesn't want to find me.

Thud, thud—

"Carmen? Are you okay?"

I open my eyes at the sound of a different male voice, sounding much closer. Liam Archer is standing by my side, peering at me with narrowed, uncertain eyes.

"Oh, hi," I say casually, as though everything is normal, just fine. But there's something wrong with my voice, it's too high and shaky to be my own.

"Are you okay?" he repeats.

I give a noncommittal shrug, unwilling to lie. "What are you doing here?"

"I was here for a swim," he says, indicating the towel wrapped around his bare shoulders, catching the drops of water dripping from his damp hair. "But Rick just came here, looking for me . . ."

He points behind his shoulder to a guy standing a few feet away, shifting on his feet in obvious impatience.

"Oh. You should probably go."

Liam shakes his head. "What's wrong, Carmen?"

"It's a long story, and you don't have the time," I sigh, gesturing to his friend.

Liam moves to sit on the bench, raising his eyebrows at me.

And I don't know why, but I find myself telling him the whole story. The party, the dance, the beautiful stranger, the kiss, the interview, Astrid's list and the missing name. The whole time, I stare straight ahead at the shimmering water and the wiggly blue-silver patterns they create on the tiled floor. Finally, I turn to look at Liam who has been listening in absolute silence. He's staring at me, looking dumbfounded.

"Oh god," I say with a humorless laugh. "I'm sorry for blathering on like an idiot."

"Dude, Liam?" Rick calls from behind, stepping a little closer to the bench.

Liam raises his hand and dismisses Rick impatiently before running his fingers through his wet hair. His eyes are wide and his mouth is contorted with shock.

"Liam?" I ask, tipping my head and staring at him in confusion.

His voice is a deep whisper that is so low I almost don't hear him when he says, "It was you."