Page 33 of The Stalker Snafu

Julian had to get back to the vet clinic Saturday evening, and I was feeling miles better, so he discharged me with instructions to keep an eye on the glue and to not—under any circumstances—scratch at the wound. Pulling a cone of shame out of his vet bag was a bit much, but Noah choking on his own laughter when Julian offered it to me totally made up for it.

Noah tried to convince me to stay with him another night, but I didn’t want to be a bother. Plus, I only had a week left to concentrate on school and spend time with Teresa before Thanksgiving break.

The drive back to campus was quiet, though I had a permanent grimace from scrolling through my phone and seeing all the missed calls from my mother.

Eleven within the last twenty-four hours.

As if my dread had summoned her, the phone burst to life in a flurry of vibrations, and I groaned at the Caller ID. “It’s my mother. I missed some calls from her.”

Noah glanced over before refocusing on the road. “You can answer it.”

I could. I just didn’t know if I wanted to. Who knew what Noah would overhear?

I squeezed my eyes shut before accepting the call and mashing the phone against my ear. “Hi, Mother.”

“Emmaline Lillian Fox. How difficult is it to give your own mother a call back when she leaves a dozen messages for you?” My mother’s agitated voice burst through the phone, and I raced to lower the volume a few notches. “Did you get my emails?”

I cleared my throat, resolutely not looking at Noah as he pulled to a stop at a red light. “I haven’t checked my inbox lately.”

“And what is keeping you so busy that you’re failing to use the phone we pay for?”

What a nice, friendly reminder. I scrambled for an excuse. “I’ve been spending more time in the practice room. It’s easier to focus when I’m unplugged.”

“I need to discuss a Christmas concert opportunity with you,” she prattled on, as if my reasoning were irrelevant. “An old friend is recruiting talent for an event in Chicago on the 24th. If you would’ve responded earlier, I could’ve told him you said yes before⁠—”

“I don’t think I can commit to any Christmas concerts,” I interrupted before she could say yes for me. “I’m sorry, but my final performance for Professor Slade’s class is during the holidays.”

A heavy silence seeped through the phone, and I could practically hear my mother’s frown. “Is Atticus having you perform in a proper concert hall? If it’s only in a classroom, I’m sure he would understand if you skipped it for a real concert.”

I gritted my teeth, ignoring Noah’s curious gaze as we pulled into campus. A security guard was waiting at the parking booth, and Noah rolled down his window to show his parking badge. I lowered my voice. “I don’t know yet, but I’ll fail if I miss it. It’ll be scheduled sometime over break.”

“No bother. Once I can get ahold of Atticus, I’m sure I can clear up any confusion.”

It took effort not to pound my head against the dashboard.

The parking guard swiped Noah’s badge before handing it back. “Dropping off or parking?”

“Just dropping off,” Noah answered.

I clapped a hand over the mouthpiece of my phone, but it was too late.

“Who was that?” my mother asked, not missing a beat.

My heart dropped into my stomach, and my fingers fell from the mouthpiece. “Who was who?”

“I heard another voice. Are you with someone?”

“I’m—” I glanced at Noah as he drove us through the gate, oblivious. “Oh, him? Yes. Yes, there is another person here—as in, within the same vicinity as me.”

“Who is it?”

“Oh, just a friend.”

“A male one?” The disbelief in her tone would be comical if I wasn’t desperate to not get yanked out of college and dragged back home.

“Well, he’s more like a study partner, really,” I amended quietly, staring resolutely out my window. “You know, for… studying.”

“Why do you need help studying? You’ve never needed study partners before.”