(copyright © 2006, le Duc de Kavaliere)
Stalking Angie
Part Six
“There, there, now, sit down,” he was saying. His arm was around her, and he was helping her into a sitting position on the stone steps. His brown eyes were caring, full of concern. “Can I get you something? I’ve got a water bottle here somewhere...”
Angie was still trying to catch her breath. “What... what are you doing here?”
“Well, I brought you a flower,” he said, and placed a long-stemmed red rose in her lap.
She felt herself laughing, a freaked-out, exasperated laugh. “You’re crazy! You’re completely nuts, you know that?”
Claude shrugged and grinned. “I’ve been called worse.”
She looked him full in the face. That hawk-nose made him seem aristocratic, almost majestic. He had the warmest, most loving brown eyes. “You’re nuts!” she repeated. “You came all this way—just to give me—what were you thinking?”
“Have you ever seen Mulan?” he asked.
That stopped Angie in her tracks. “Uh—I guess so—why?”
“There’s a scene at the end where the Emperor tells the general something like, you’d better not let a girl like that get away. It was good advice.”
“You came all this way to—what, impress me?”
“To court you,” Claude said gently.
“Shouldn’t you be in Rhode Island?”
He shook his head. “I was only in Rhode Island for the summer. I’m from Albany.”
“But—aren’t you in school?”
He nodded. “Actually, Cornell isn’t THAT long a drive, but I got permission to take some classes here this semester.”
Angie looked at him, bug-eyed. He goes to Cornell? “How many classes?” she asked.
Claude tried to hide his grin, and didn’t succeed. “All of them.”
Angie gazed at him... and then remembered her promise to herself. A surge of anger flared in her stomach.
“You can’t do this,” she said. She realized his arm was still around her, and stood up, shaking it off. “You can’t just show up here and expect me to fall down at your feet!”
Claude stood up too, but stepped back a pace. What was he thinking? Was he afraid that his height would intimidate her? “I don’t expect you to fall at my feet,” Claude said softly. “I just want a chance to get to know you in real life, the same as you’d give anyone else.”
“But you already—aack!” Angie scooped up her books and marched away. She had no idea where she was going; she’d work that out later. “You don’t have any claim on me, Claude!”
He hurried after her. “I never said I did, Angie,” he said. “I want to win your heart, to earn your respect.”
She stopped and whirled around. “What happened between us, is over! I don’t have the time or inclination to start a relationship again! I’m busy! I have a life!”
“We don’t have to start anything up again,” Claude said. “Let me take you out on Friday night. We’ll have dinner, take it slow, I’ll get you home early—”
“Just leave me alone!” she shouted, and turned again. Claude’s hand touched her shoulder. She flung it off, then twisted around and slapped him in the face.
Claude’s hand dropped to his side. He stood there, stunned.
“I am NOT your girlfriend,” Angie declared. “I did NOT want you to follow me here. They have a word for when you follow a girl around and scare her to death. It’s called stalking. Go away.”
She marched off, leaving the raven-haired upperclassman standing there. Angie didn’t see it, but his hand crept up to his cheek where she’d slapped him.
The nerve, Angie thought. The royal nerve of that man! He’d followed her halfway across New York state and disrupted her life. He’d terrified her half to death!
She arrived at the library, and plunked her books down in an empty carrel. Who did that stalking freak think he was? Hopefully he’d run back to Rhode Island... Cornell... Albany... wherever. She didn’t care, so long as he left her alone.
Angie picked up her psych textbook and started to read the assigned chapter. It was about fundamentalism and the nature-nurture controversy.
She tried to focus, but the words blurred together, and she couldn’t pick up the ideas. She had a face to the voice... that caring smile, those gorgeous brown eyes...
Heavens above, she was going off again. She’d have to be insane to let someone inside her head again, let someone control her and use her, let someone seduce her into surrendering herself and becoming an addict, becoming... pathetic.
She slammed the textbook closed and rested her head on it. Hopefully that creep got the message and wouldn’t bother her again. Hopefully.
She opened the textbook and tried to keep her mind on Watson.
Angie returned to her dorm after dinner—nobody was lurking around the front door, thank heavens—and made her way back to her room. Tanya was there, stretched out on her bed, nose in a book. Angie didn’t even see her. All she could see was the bouquet of twenty-one roses.
Tossing her books on her bed, she picked up the vase and carried it out of the room.
Tanya ran out after her. “What are you doing?”
“Putting these where they belong,” Angie proclaimed, and dumped them in the bathroom garbage.
“Are you insane?” Tanya asked. “Did you find out who sent them?”
“Yes,” Angie groaned. They began the walk back to their room.
“Well, spill the beans,” the blonde girl asked.
“He’s this—creep,” Angie said, searching for words. “This—older guy—”
“Older, you mean like a professor?” her roommate asked, eyes wide.
Angie shook her head. “No, he’s an upperclassman.”
Tanya giggled. “You mean the hot psych major? Are you nuts?”
“No, I’m not nuts,” Angie sighed. They both sat down on her bed, and Tanya put a comforting arm around her. “It’s just—” Mierda, she couldn’t tell Tanya about having a hypnosis fetish! Or what a good subject she was. “I don’t have any time in my life for that right now—or any desire.”
Her roommate hugged her. “Hey, if you’re not attracted to him, tell him in so many words. Guys don’t get the picture with that whole “no time” stuff. Even the busiest person doesn’t want to go to bed alone.”
Angie looked at Tanya.
“That is it, right?” her roommate asked. “You’re not attracted to him?”
Angie closed her eyes and shook her head. “No, I’m not,” she lied.
The next day, Angie and Nisha were checking their boxes in the mail center, and Angela pulled out another interoffice envelope with a lump inside.
“What the heck?” she asked, unstringing it. Nisha came over to watch.
“It’s candy!” Angie exclaimed. Then she read the label, and saw the tiny morsels inside. “Oh, god, no.”
When Angie stood there dumbly with no explanation forthcoming, Nisha asked her what was the matter.
“It’s from Claude—the psych major,” the brown-haired girl sighed, and drummed the unopened bag of chocolate-covered raisins against her chin. “He knows I like these. But I told him I wasn’t interested.”
“Are you going to send them back?” Nisha asked.
“No—that’s what he wants,” Angie sighed. “I need to cut him off completely. I can’t give him a response. I should just throw this away.”
She walked toward the trash can, but Nisha interrupted her. “Waste of a perfectly good bag of raisins that way.”
Angie stared at the chocolates in her hand. But she loved the things, dammit! The smooth, sweet concord of milk chocolate and sugary raisins... bite after bite after bite... you could eat them all at once, or make them last for months.
Finally, she nodded slowly. “I guess if I don’t want to accept them, I have to give them away,” she said. “Do you like them?”
Nisha shook her head and shrugged. “You can ask Tanya.”
Angie did, an hour and a half later when she ran into her roommate on the way to the science lab.
“Sorry,” Tanya said sincerely. “I’m trying to cut down on sweets.”
That night, Angie dropped the bag of chocolates on her desk, then sat on her bed, reading.
The chocolates sat there for hours. Angie felt like the bag was an eye, looking at her, daring her to enforce her decision to give them away. Finally, she dropped the bag in a drawer.
The next day, a cassette tape arrived in her interoffice box. Angie showed it to her roommates once she arrived back at the dorm.
“You’re gonna have to put a stop to this fast!” Tanya observed.
“Well, let’s listen to it!” Nisha said.
“I don’t know if I should!” Angie said.
“Aren’t you at least curious?” Tanya asked.
“Here, I’ll do it,” Nisha said, and seized the cassette from Angie’s hands.
“Wait, no!” But the black girl had already opened the cassette jacket and turned on the stereo.
Angie put her hand over Nisha’s, and her roommate obligingly paused. “All right,” the business major said, “if you don’t want to listen to it, you don’t have to.” Angie nodded. “Then you’d better leave the room, because I’m going to!”
Tanya shrieked with laughter. Angie moaned.
“Okay, we can listen to it,” the zoology major conceded, and reached for the stereo.
Something stopped her. What if it were a hypnosis induction?
One that Claude had recorded, just for her?
How could she possibly explain that to Tanya and Nisha? She’d have to tell them she thought it was sexy. They’d be merciless, swinging necklaces in front of her face whenever they wanted anything.
“Are we going to listen to it, or aren’t we?” Tanya asked.
Nisha put her hand over the white girl’s. “Give her a sec. If she doesn’t want to listen, she shouldn’t have to.”
But Angie made her decision. She slipped the tape in. It clicked, and it pressed the play button. If it were an induction, she’d explain it by saying Claude was a psych major and a freak.
It was... a baseline.
(“Fragile... like a baby in your arms... be gentle with me, I’d never willingly do you harm...")
It was... Depeche Mode.
Angie started laughing. She laughed and laughed and laughed, and almost felt like she was going to cry.
Then she did.
Nisha and Tanya sat down beside her, and gave her comforting hugs.
(“It’s easy to make the stupid mistake of letting go...")
“How can he do this to me,” Angie sobbed.
“Does he have a brother?” Tanya joked, but Nisha shushed her.
“Angie’s right, this has gone far enough... she said no, and he hasn’t left her alone,” the black girl said.
“Even if I changed my mind, I can’t reward this... it’s like he’s stalking me,” Angie said through her tears.
(“My weaknesses... you know each and every one...")
There was a knock on Claude’s door the next morning.
The psych major opened it, to reveal a blonde girl he’d seen around campus, and a black girl he’d seen... in the dining hall... yikes, these were Angie’s roommates!
“YEEEEHAW!” came a yell from behind him. “Show the ladies in, please! Roger’s house of pleasure awaits!”
Oh, god, Claude thought. He stepped through the door and slammed it behind him. Both visitors stared at him.
“My roommate. He’s a bit nuts,” Claude explained. “What can I do for you ladies?”
“You need to leave Angie alone,” the black girl said flatly.
“You’re driving her crazy,” the blonde one agreed.
Claude opened his mouth.
“You had her in tears last night,” said the black girl.
“We don’t like seeing her upset,” the blonde girl added.
Claude closed his mouth.
“What you’re doing is stalking,” the African-American told him.
“It’s illegal!” the blonde put in.
“Do I get to say anything here?” Claude interrupted.
“Not until we’re done with you,” said the first girl. Then her forehead wrinkled, and she turned to her friend. “Are we done?”
“You leave Angie alone,” the blonde echoed, “or this goes to campus security.”
“Yeah,” the black girl agreed.
Claude swallowed hard. “Wait a minute, you said she was in tears?”
The black girl nodded, dark eyes flashing.
“Because of ‘A Question of Lust?’ Doesn’t that song rock?”
“Well...” the blonde said. Her friend shot her a dirty look.
Claude took a deep breath. “Look, ladies,” he managed. “I swear to you I didn’t mean to hurt her feelings.” He shook his head. “I don’t know how to explain this to you, but Angie’s... special.”
“We already know that,” the black girl countered.
“Aww, hell, I’ll just say it,” Claude said, flustered. “I got to know Angie over the summer. I—I’m crazy about her. I think she has feelings for me, too.”
The black girl shook her head. “Regardless of what you may think she thinks, you have to respect what she says. And what she says is, go away.”
“If you really care about her, you should listen to what she wants,” the blonde added.
Claude took a deep breath, and looked at the floor. When he looked up again, Angie’s two roommates were already halfway down the hall.
He walked back in his room, and ignored Roger’s snide comments. Instead, he picked up the brand-new “Ten Things I Hate About You” DVD and stared at it.
What the devil was he going to do? There was no point in doing this and only going halfway.
Still, Angie’s roommates were fundamentally correct. She’d said to leave her alone, and she’d said it in no uncertain terms. He couldn’t claim he’d misunderstood.
Well, he could always return the movie and get his $15 refunded.
But Angie hadn’t returned any of his gifts!
Did she know where he lived?
Of course she did, he reasoned. If her roommates had found out what dorm he was in, so had she. Heck, she could do the same thing he had, and check the directory! Plus, it would be easier for her, because she had the benefit of actually knowing his last name.
Well, he’d bought her the gift, he might as well send it. Once the gift was given, it would be hers, and she could keep it or give it away or toss it at her will.
And Angie was worth a hell of a lot more than $15!
Claude sat down glumly on his bed. His roommate ignored him. But what if... what if her roommates had been right? What if she truly didn’t want to see him, what if she wanted nothing to do with him? What if he couldn’t change her mind?
He looked at the DVD. What if chasing her was only making things worse?
The DVD would be the third gift in as many days. After this, he could lay off her for a while, and see if she came around.
Claude slowly began to wrap the present. Yes, he thought, he could leave her alone, and accept that the sexiest, sweetest, most amazing girl he’d ever met would never love him again.
Maybe he really was a stalker.
Was he crazy?