The Snow Garden by Unknown Author

Author:Unknown Author
Language: eng
Format: epub

Randall pulled off the old trick of hanging back and letting a student slide his card through the reader and then grabbing the door before it shut all the way behind him. Inside Braddock Hall, Randall rushed up to the second floor, feeling like an intruder, and found the door to Tim’s suite standing open. He pushed it open and took one step into the common room, trying to feel his feet on the floor.

Sharif and John were playing poker. A mess of textbooks and notes lay strewn around an open pizza box and its half-eaten contents. Obviously, John had set aside his hard feelings about being conned into drinking Sharif's urine out of a Nantucket Nectar bottle. Not to mention the Japanese beer drama.

“Yeah, he’s here,” Sharif said, arranging pairs in his hand.

John stared at Randall so intently over his hand that it looked as if someone had long ago convinced him that upon entering a room all gay men break into song and dance. Of course, it could have been that Randall’s eyes were still bloodshot and he looked like the wind had been knocked out of him, thanks to Jesse’s assault, which had left him rattled and raw.

Tim cracked the door to his room after one knock, and Randall recognized a wary tightness around his eyes. “Did something happen?”

“I need a beer.”

“I’ve got work. My own work.”

“One beer,” Randall said, holding up his finger, and Tim registered that he was coming down from the throes of near panic. Tim pulled the door all the way open. As Randall took a seat on the bed, Tim removed a Corona from the fridge and punched the cap off against his desk. Randall managed a weak thanks before he downed the first third. Tim took a seat at his desk. “If you keep hating me,” Randall declared, “we’ll never be able to do this.”

“I don’t hate you,” Tim responded evenly. “But that doesn’t mean I think we can do this. And I don’t think you should stay, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Jesse’s fucking someone right now and I don’t think I’ll get any sleep at Eric’s.”

Tim just shook his head in disbelief at Randall’s nerve.

For several tense minutes, Randall lay on the bed, waiting for the beer to flush memories both recent and distant. Tim feigned studying. When he realized that his concentration wasn’t going to return, he let out a sigh, dropped his pencil and met Randall’s gaze. Randall returned it, trying to escape himself for one minute, trying to see what Tim saw: a home wrecker, a stupid little boy trapped in the middle of something spinning out of his control. If there was one thing Randall was still sure of it was that he had a gift for seeing himself through other people’s eyes. Before, that had helped him survive; now it was a curse, and of absolutely zero use amid murder.

“You want another?” Tim asked, shutting his book with one hand.

Randall handed Tim the empty bottle.

“You

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