Chance Meetings?

Life is good I can't complain
I mean I could but no one's listening
Your image overwhelms my brain
And it feels good, good, good

—Aly and Aj (Like Whoa)

---

"Name three respiratory diseases that can cause or lead to death and name one symptom they all have in common."

     "Uh," Vee's eyes rolled up in thought as she swiveled back and forth in her computer chair. "That would have to be Lung Cancer, Emphysema and—rarely—Asthma." she spoke slowly, peeking at her notes for split second. "Oh, and they can cause constriction in the air ways." She added as a matter-of-factly. Vee was due for an accumulative exam tomorrow, summing up what she had learned so far in the semester.

     She had cooled down after the little episode earlier and after a coma-inducing hour of Psychology, we crashed in our dorm, deciding to brush up on our studies. We had already devoted two and half hours into her studies on the human body, diseases and functions.

     I really didn't mind. I didn't have much work to turn in, and my one essay wasn't due 'til next week. Besides, the distraction was nice.

     "Check, check, and check," I murmured slowly, mentally tallying up what she scored. "Awesome, that's 19 out of 23." I handed her the deck of flash cards on the respiratory system and pulled my laptop onto my lap.

     "It's hard being this awesome." She sighed, as if she was asked to work a double shift on Christmas. As she said that, she turned up the computer speakers, music oozing out of it's pores. "Hey, I'm getting hungry. Wanna order in?"

     "Uh," I glanced up reluctantly and nodded. "Sure. But this time, tell them not to put the bar-b-que sauce on the shrimp."

     Vee already had her cell phone out, dialing away. "'Kay, 'kay," she said as she stepped out into the hall way. Her play-list was loud enough and Vee was the kind of person who didn't like repeating herself.

Once alone, I opened up my e-mail, a bunch of advertisements and spam loading in a column. I skimmed through the list briefly. I got one from Coach McConaughy, probably reminding his class about the essay we were assigned.

     I got another from my mom, who lived on the outskirts of Coldwater. She worked for Hugo Renaldi Auction Company as an estate and antique auction coordinator along the east coast. She liked to check up on me plenty, and vent about where she was and who she met. I always gave her a mundane response about how I was keeping up my studies, how Vee was and how much I missed her.

     When I lost my dad, my mom and I became pretty close knit. College was the farthest I'd ever been from her.

     Just as I had been reading her message a second time, a tab popped up. I could feel a smirk rise on my lips as I clicked on it. It was my pen-pale, a stranger that I came across by accident. We had a totally safe relationship, so I didn't have to worry about a predator or anything. This guy had never even tried to pursue meeting up officially or whatever. (He lives in California—the other sunshine state.)

     This was more of a flirty relationship than anything else, and our privacy was kept so we remained a stranger to another. It was cool to be someone else to someone you'd never meet. You could tell them anything and expect nothing.

Hey

Wats up Buttercup?

Noth'n interesting.

U?

Bored :(

How can I entertain u?

Tel me wat ur wearing

Wat if I said noth'n?

     I was really wearing my flannel pajama pants with monkeys tattooed all over them and my high school t-shirt, a giant hawk stretch across my back. But my pen-pale didn't need to know that. In our chats, I wasn't meek and nerdy like I was in reality, but this more open and bold person.

R U?

Wat if?

Paint a pic 4 me ;)

In ur dreams perv :P

Y R U such a tease?

     I was prepared to reply in a quip remark when Vee strolled in. That was a little long just for a Chinese food order, I thought.

One sec

     "Zoe was late for the mail; I had to pick it up," she explained. She held up an envelope with my name written across it in a smooth and lazy scrawl, the letters all connected. My brows furrowed as I took it, the handwriting unfamiliar to me. I cautiously pulled out the small card inside and a twenty dollar bill. Vee gave me a quizzical look. "Twenty bucks?"

     I flipped over the card and in the same lazy scrawl wrote:

Tabs on me, P.

     P? Patch? I was so desperate earlier, to get out of the restaurant, that I didn't even mind paying for our lunch, so long as I could make my get away. I was so caught up Marcie drama that I hadn't remembered that Patch worked at Borderline. Since Vee and I always went to Borderline, we had noticed the place was always packed, the Arc Angels growing fan club taking stolen pics of the team on their camera phones.

     They were usually mainly of Patch or this stringy looking dude, with hair so black it came off as blue. I was so used to the full house that Patch hadn't even came to mind. I wondered if he had returned my money. Surely, that's what "Tabs on me" had to mean, right?

     But how did he know where to find me?

     "So," Vee began, plopping down beside me and hugging a pillow to her chest. Aware that she had a full view of my online chat, I discretely lowered the screen and lowered it off my lap. She didn't know about my little friend, just knew I was always chatting it up with someone she didn't know.

     "So," I prompted. I didn't want her getting curious again.

     "Patch Cipriano, huh?" her expression was blank, giving nothing away to her thoughts but I had a pretty good guess of what she was thinking. There was nothing going on between Patch and I and if there was, it was only platonic. Patch was stunning but not my type. I was beyond good looks for all that mattered. But from what I've seen, what I've heard seemed like a stark contrast of the guy I met only yesterday.

     He was nice for one, and pretty mellow for someone who was known for getting into plenty of fights on and off the field. Besides he was with Marcie. Either he had a poor judge of character or . . . well, nothing. He definitely had a poor judge of character, that's for sure.

     "It was just a chance meeting." I murmured as I tucked the card back in it's place and hid the envelope in my bedside drawer. But that had been twice already, plus the envelope . . .

     I could feel her eyes on me, studying me for another moment and said wryly, "Right,"

     A soft rap sounded and Zoe's head poked in. "Chinese food's here," she announced.

     "Alright," Vee said and sat up. "Don't miss me too much,"

     I rolled my eyes. Once she left, I took up my lap top:

Still there?

T 2 2mrrw. Something came up

Later

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The sun beamed down on me, my unruly curls draped over my face. I was sweating under my comforters, the temperature definitely hotter than expected. Groaning indignantly, I stiffly stretched out my limbs, working out my kinks. Slowly, I let my eyes adjust to the rays of the sun and squinted at my alarm clock.

     9:42, I thought, thinking nothing of it until it dawned on me that class started at nine today and Coach would definitely hound me about being late. If there was anything else he loved other than coaching blood sports, it would be harassing tardy students. I shuddered at the thought and bolted for my closet, tossing on a pair of jeans and a thermal hoodie.

     I in my haste, I managed to trip on my own foot. I was stuck trying to pull on my socks and brush my teeth at the same time. I huffed when I looked in the bathroom mirror, my hair to freakish to just where down so I did my best to tame it into a decent ponytail.

     I'm so late, I'm so late.

     I kept repeating the words in my head as if it would make me run any faster. So part of me was angry that Vee hadn't even bothered to wake me but I could bitch at her later.

     Right now: I had to get to class.

     Sadly once there, I found the room was empty except for Coach McConaughy and a very angry Patch. "You can't bench me next game, Couch. You said I have scouts coming," Patch spoke, sounding pretty agitated.

     Boy, did I have bad timing.

     Realizing, I was interrupting a dispute, I skidded to a stop in my worn out converse. I stopped just short of Coach's desk, nearly knocking my knee into the sturdy wood. I was breathing pretty hard, and a killer cramp was biting into my stomach. I doubled-over, clenching my sides and taking long gulps of air.

     "Nice of you to join us Ms. Grey," Coach's smooth, calm voice almost made me scared. He peeked at his watch. "You're late," Slowly he turned to me, broad arms crossed over his chest. He didn't look made but the calm he was sporting was pretty scary, itself. It kind of made me expect him to just—snap.

     "I'm really sorry I missed class but I—" I began, fumbling for an excuse, but really there wasn't any. "I'm really sorry,"

     He smiled impishly, not even looking at me but at Patch who seemed to be growing more and more impatient. "Relax, Grey, your not in trouble,"

     My brows rose skeptically. "You said what now?"

     Coach seemed bemused by this. "You're not in trouble—tell me do you still tutor?"

     My gaze flicked briefly to Patch, fearing that this wasn't going where I thought it was going. "Uh, no," I spent the first semester tutoring as an after school job—I mean, might as well put my brains to good use, right? But I settled for working in the library instead. It paid well and I always did prefer books to people. It was just easier to get lost in a book than it was to constantly repeat yourself to someone who didn't give a rats ass.

     "But I've learned you've been helping Ms. Skye study for her exams and since then her grades have been pretty decent." he said.

     I shook my head, defending Vee's case. "I actually didn't do much, it's really all her. The problem with Vee is her lack of dedication. I just help her focus, really. You know keep her head in the game."

     "Great, than you wouldn't mind doing the same for Patch here, if you want me to look past this little inconvenience."

     I was really starting to wonder if these run-ins with Patch were really chance meetings.