Chapter 3

In addition to our Tuesday lunches, Andy and I started having sleepovers at least once a week in November. They were usually Friday nights, and largely consisted of cooking lessons. The school’s radio station played nothing but The Beatles on Friday nights, so we cranked the stereo and sang along. Our miniscule kitchens were impractical for cooking lessons, but we did our best.

Bedtime cuddling hadn’t changed much since Halloween night. We still slept in our pajamas and hadn’t felt the need to go to second base. I wasn’t ready for all that, anyway. We liked things the way they were, and didn’t feel the need to call ourselves anything other than friends.

Much to Andy’s delight, he was finding himself quite popular amongst the women in the housing complex. He hadn’t been that popular in high school, so the newfound attention was definitely an ego boost.

The week following our second sleepover, my American Studies teacher was sick, and her Teaching Assistant filled in for a week. Melody Burgess was gorgeous. Long, straight, dark green hair, dark brown eyes, and a beautiful smile. She wore solid color t-shirts and long, flowing, brightly colored skirts.

She had us do a timed, in class writing assignment about our view of news on TV during Wednesday’s class. I wrote about how I hadn’t bothered to bring a TV with me because I preferred to read the newspaper.

Melody called on me to read my paper at the end of class. I smiled at her nervously before I started reading. I stared at the paper as I read, as it makes me very uncomfortable to read my writing out loud. When I was finished, I sat down without looking at her.

“Very interesting. Well, that’s time for today, folks. Miss Bennington, may I speak to you for a moment?”

I blushed as I packed up my notebook and walked to her desk.

“Yes, Miss Burgess?”

“ I admire your willingness to live without a TV.”

“Oh, thanks.” I was still blushing. Talking to pretty girls always made me nervous.

“That’s a beautiful necklace. Is it an antique?”

I looked down to see the Cameo that Auntie Shirley had given me for my 15th birthday. It had belonged to her eldest sister.

I nodded. “It’s been in my family for most of this century.”

“I’ve always wanted one of those.” She smiled. “So, uh, would you like to get some lunch?”

I smiled. “Sure. I was planning on having leftovers at home, but they can keep.”

“Where’s home?” She asked, walking towards the door. I followed her.

“Azusa building.”

“I lived in there before they remodeled it. You’re lucky they re-did the bathrooms; they were terrible.”

I laughed as we walked out the door. “Where would you like to eat?”

“How about the pasta place?”

“What pasta place?”

“There’s this great pasta restaurant in the Student Union in the downstairs courtyard.”

“Oh. I’ve never been there.”

“You’ll love it!”

“You’ve sold me!” I smiled. Thankfully I’d stopped blushing. I wasn’t exactly sure if Melody was interested in me, but at least I was starting to relax a bit.

“So, where’d you come from?”

“Mermirabuena. And you?”

“Wyoming. Came here 3 years ago to finish my undergrad degree. Liked it so much I decided to stay and get my Master’s.”

“Cool.” We were approaching a flight of steps I’d passed by numerous times but never descended.

“Down here.” Melody started walking down the steps. I followed her.

The entire courtyard was covered in bricks. There was a small fountain in one corner, and chairs and tables set up randomly. The café was underneath the stairs.

“This is beautiful!” I remarked.

“Yeah, it is. The pasta place just opened this semester.”

We walked in and were greeted by the sounds of Jimi Hendrix.

“Melody! How are you?” A tall, thin man from behind the counter called out. He was wearing a Metallica baseball cap and a Jimi Hendrix shirt.

“Great, Dylan. And you?”

“Wonderful! And who is your friend?” Dylan smiled slyly at her.

“Oh, this is Shirley. I’m subbing for Ms. Nigel this week, and she’s in her intro class.”

Dylan smiled. “Nice to meet you, Shirley. Welcome to Pasta Rocks.”

“Thanks, Dylan.”

“What’ll it be, ladies?”

“My usual.” Melody replied.

“Spinach tortellini with pesto, coming up!” Dylan smiled. “And for you, Shirley?”

“I’ll have the same. Sounds good.”

“Oh, it is!” Melody exclaimed.

Dylan started on our lunches, singing snatches of “Hey Joe” as he worked.

“This place is really cool. I didn’t know it existed. I’ll have to bring a friend here.”

“Please do!” Dylan said. “Most people aren’t used to having an open restaurant here anymore.”

“Yeah, the last place was closed for over a year before you got here.” Melody added.

“Okay, Ladies. Anything to drink?”

“Raspberry New York Seltzer.” I said, noticing the bottle on the counter.

“White wine.” Melody smiled.

“Ah, no more classes today?” Dylan laughed as he retrieved two bottles from the drink cooler behind the counter.

“Melody, your total is $7. Shirley, yours is $5.50.”

I reached into my pocket for my wallet.

“Oh, allow me.” Melody said, handing a $20 bill to Dylan.

“Thanks, but it’s really not necessary.”

“Just promise me you’ll come back and help me keep this place in business.” Melody laughed.

“Deal.” I said.

We picked up our trays from the counter and walked outside. Melody made a beeline for a table near the fountain.

“This is my favorite table, so I always try to snag it when I can.”

“This is a really nice place. I kind of feel silly that this is my first time down here.”

“Well, you haven’t been here very long. It took me until my second semester to visit the Arboretum.”

“I’ve been there before. It’s quite lovely.”

We ate mostly in silence, because the food was fabulous. I normally don’t have pesto sauce, but it was delicious.

“I think I know why you like this place so much—this is terrific food!” I said, taking a swig of seltzer.

Melody nodded. “The food upstairs is pretty good, but a bit on the unhealthy side.”

“I agree. That’s why I opted for the studio, so I could cook.”

“So, what do you think of Ms. Nigel?” She asked.

I finished chewing my garlic bread before I spoke. “She’s a pretty good teacher. I like her sense of humor.”

“Yeah, she’s awesome. I’m really glad I ended up as her TA. She’s taught me quite a lot.” Melody smiled. “She’ll be back on Monday. She was going to work through her cold, but I told her to rest up. Besides, I’m getting a little bit of teaching experience.”

“Are you going to teach after you get your graduate degree?”

Melody nodded. “I was going to go back home and teach high school, but I fell in love with California.” She blushed a little, which made me suspect she caught herself from saying something she wasn’t supposed to.

“Yeah, it’s a great state. I’m going to study writing ‘cause that’s about the only thing I want to do for a living.”

Melody laughed. “Most people are here to make money. You must be rich.”

I laughed. “Not really. My bank account has a finite number in it. If I don’t do anything to add to it, I’ll be broke by the time I’m 25.”

“I see.” Melody took a sip of wine. “I worked through undergrad so I wouldn’t have to take out loans until I hit grad school. I knew I couldn’t work and do this much schoolwork at the same time.”

“Very wise. So, do you normally have lunch with your advisor’s students?”

Melody laughed. “No, I don’t.”

“Why me?”

“You seem different.”

“In what way?”

“Well, the lack of television. You also don’t wear make-up.”

I shrugged. “Neither of them interest me too much anymore. I guess I had my fill of them in high school.”

“Rare for someone your age. Most women need a few years of college before they come around.” Melody smiled and started sopping up some of the pesto sauce with a bit of her garlic bread.

“My namesake was a huge influence in my life. She never got married nor had kids. She was more nurturing than my Mom, actually. She passed away in January.”

“I’m sorry. She sounds like a great woman.”

“Yeah, she was. The make-up thing is more because my ex-boyfriend wanted me to wear make-up all the time.”

“Oh. Were you with him long?”

“Two years. It ended when I turned down his proposal.”

“Why’d you turn him down?”

I took a swig of seltzer and sighed. “I had a dream the morning before graduation that I was leaving him the day before our 10th anniversary with our 3 kids because I wasn’t happy anymore.”

“Wow, that was like a premonition or something.”

I nodded. “He didn’t take it too well, though.” I sighed.

Melody looked at me carefully for a moment. “I’ll bet his revenge was particularly sinister.”

“Yes, it was.” I sighed again.

“I had a feeling.”

“How?”

It was Melody’s turn to sigh. She also blushed slightly. “I know this is going to sound far-fetched, but I’m a little psychic. I’ve learned a little bit about it, but I’m not that interested in using my abilities for material gain.”

I smiled. “My namesake had a friend that said she was. She told me a few things when I was 12 that would happen to me as I grew up. So far she’s been dead on.” I reached for my bottle of seltzer.

“Ah, good. Then you’ll believe me when I tell you that your namesake told me what happened to you on Grad night. She wants me to remind you that it wasn’t your fault.”

I choked on my seltzer. It took me a few seconds to stop coughing. “Why did she tell you?”

Melody blushed again. “Well, I thought you were cute, so I wanted to see if I could read you, just for fun. And I saw something troubling, but I wasn’t sure what it was. Then I heard a woman’s voice tell me, well . . . “ Melody trailed off. She didn’t want to say it out loud anymore than I did. But if this was real, and not some very bizarre way of either gas lighting or exploiting me, it was a sign that I needed to start talking.

I closed my eyes and whispered, “She told you that I was raped, didn’t she?” A few tears leaked out of my eyes.

“Yes, and I’m sorry.” Melody whispered back.

I opened my eyes, and there were tears in her eyes, too.

“That’s the first time I said it out loud, you know.” I reached for a napkin and wiped my eyes.

Melody finished her wine. “That’s the reason I left Wyoming—it happened to me there, and I needed to get away. You know, the Woman’s Center has people you can talk to. They were great for me when I first got here.”

“I talked a lot about it over the summer with another survivor, so I’ve worked through a lot of it.”

“Shirley, I’m not insisting you go, but I want you to know the resource is there if you ever need it.”

“Thanks.” I smiled. “So how do you get your hair that color?”

“I have it bleached and dyed. It’s a bitch, but I get it done at the cosmetology school at the junior college down the road, so it’s not too expensive.”

“I think it’s cool. I’ve always wanted to dye my hair a funky color, but I could never decide on a color.”

“Honestly, I think blue black or black cherry would look great on you. You wouldn’t even have to bleach your hair as much as I have to.”

“Maybe you’ll have to tell me the next time you’re getting your hair done and I can come along with you.”

Melody smiled. “I’ll hold you to it!”

“I hope you do.” I looked at my watch, and it was 2:15. “Oh, I’m sorry, but I should get going. I need to finish doing some reading for my history class at 4.”

“That’s okay. I should head over to the library to make some notes from a book they won’t let me take out.”

We rose, picked up our trays, and walked them over to the trash bin a few yards away.

“Save your bottle; there’s a recycling bin at the top of the stairs.” Melody said, as she grabbed her wine bottle before she tipped her tray into the trashcan. I grabbed my seltzer bottle before doing the same.

We got our bags, walked up the stairs together, and put our glass bottles away in the recycling container. They looked like giant soda cans with a straw sticking out, and were painted in the school colors.

“Well, Shirley, it was a pleasure to have lunch with you. I hope we do it again someday.”

“Thanks, Melody. I appreciate the advice. Oh, is there any way I can ask you a question just to make sure it was my namesake who talked to you?”

Melody laughed. “I expected you to ask that earlier. What’s the question?”

“What did she call herself sometimes, and what was my corresponding name?”

Melody closed her eyes for a second, frowning in concentration. She opened them and smiled.

“She called herself Ruby Benton, and you’re the Heiress Benton.”

“So it was her, and you are legit.” I smiled. Indeed, to a few people, we were Ruby Benton and Heiress Benton. My namesake didn’t tell me a whole lot about what she did socially as Ruby Benton, but I have a very strong suspicion she was a dominatrix. The intimate companions that called her Ruby were exceptionally polite, and they always made dinner when they came over.

“Yep. Well, I’ll let you get to your reading. See you on Friday.”

I reached for Melody’s hand and shook it. “Thanks for lunch and the message. I do appreciate it.”

“No problem. Bye!”

“Good-bye, Melody.” I started heading back towards my apartment, but decided to find a spot near the building where Andy’s math class was. I tried to read my history book, but it was too hard to focus after my conversation with Melody. While I appreciated hearing from my namesake, I’d also had to admit what Elodio did to me. It was a little comforting knowing that Melody knew firsthand what I’d been through, but saying the words out loud had been extremely difficult.

“Hey, Shirley!” I looked up, and Andy was standing in front of me.

“Hi.”

“Were you waiting for me?”

“Yep.”

Andy looked at me for a moment. “What’s wrong?”

I sighed and closed my book. “Had lunch with the TA who’s subbing for my American Studies class. My uh, Grad Night fiasco was brought up.”

Andy frowned. “You okay? What did he say?”

I nodded. “The TA is a girl, and she suggested I talk to someone at the Women’s Center about it.”

“That is a good idea.”

“I actually said it out loud, Andy. I’ve never been able to actually say . . . that I was raped.”

Andy put his arms around me. “That must have been very difficult. You have my admiration for your bravery.”

“Thanks.”

“You’ve still got your History class at 4, right?”

“Yep.”

“I’ll meet you at your classroom when it gets out.”

“It’s not necessary. I’ll be okay. There are a few of us that walk back to the dorms together.”

“I insist.” He kissed me on the top of my head.

“Okay.” I kissed him on the lips. “You’re wonderful.”

Hours later, after my class and dinner with Andy, I went to my bookshelf and retrieved my copy of The Girl with the Silver Eyes, which is where I kept the piece of paper with the list of things I’d been told would happen to me when I was 12.

I put a check mark next to the following sentence:

“You’ll meet a girl with green hair that will provide some wisdom and advice. Believe her.”

I folded the piece of paper, put it back in the book, placed the book back on the shelf, and went to bed.