The Dead Student Read Online Free PDF Page B

wouldn’t come meet me,” he whispered to himself above the sound of the bus engine’s slowing for his stop. He rose and pushed himself into the bright early afternoon sun.
    He stuck to a wide path that paralleled the entrance drive into the park. More than one jogger cruised past him beneath the cypress trees that shaded the route. He ignored the coral rock building, where a young woman sold tickets and maps and which had a large “Florida’s Disappearing Habitat” sign out front, with pictures of how squeezed for territory all the native animals were. He paused near a stand of palm trees that edged up against Biscayne Bay, where a young Latin American couple were going through a wedding rehearsal. The priest was smiling, trying to relax everyone by making jokes, which neither mother seemed to find even remotely funny.
    Moth waited at the end of the parking lot on a bench that had a single palm that shaded it. He could hear high-pitched laughter from the tip of the park, where a wide, shallow man-made lagoon created a special place for small children to play. The nearby beach seemed to glow silver in the strong sunlight.
    He was going to pull out his cell phone, check the time, but stopped himself. If Andy Candy was late, he didn’t want to know it. He thought, There’s always a risk in counting on someone else. Maybe they don’t come. Maybe they die.
    Closing his eyes for a moment against the glare, he counted heartbeats, as if he could take the pulse of his emotions. When he opened his eyes, he saw a small red sedan come into the lot and pull into a space near the back. Like many cars in Miami, it had tinted glass, but he caught a glimpse of blond hair and knew it was Andy Candy.
    Before she was out of the car, he was on his feet. He waved, and she waved back.
    Faded jeans on her long legs and a light pastel-blue T-shirt. Her hair was pulled back in an informal ponytail, the way she typically put it when going jogging or swimming. When she spotted Moth, she slipped off her dark sunglasses. Moth’s eyes took her in, trying to see similarities and changes all at once. With each step she took closing the distance between them, he could feel a surge of some runaway feeling gathering within him.
    Andy Candy almost stopped in her tracks. Moth seemed thin to her, as if his already-lithe body had somehow been shaved away by the years since high school. His tangled hair was longer than she remembered it and his clothes seemed to hang reluctantly from his body. She had not known what she would say; she was unsure whether she should kiss him, give him a small hug, maybe just shake his hand, or perhaps do nothing. She didn’t want to hesitate, nor did she want to seem eager.
    She steadily crossed the parking lot. Not fast. Not slow, she told herself.
    He stepped forward, out of the palm’s shade. Wave. Smile. Act normal, whatever that is, he told himself.
    They met halfway.
    He started to lift his arms to embrace her.
    She leaned forward, but held her hands out in front of her.
    The awkwardness resulted in a semi-touch. Their arms went to each other’s elbows. They kept a little distance between them.
    “Hello, Moth,” she said.
    “Hi, Andrea.”
    She smiled. “Long time.”
    He nodded. “I should have …” he started, but stopped.
    She shook her head. “You know, I didn’t think I’d ever see you again. I thought you’d just go your way and I’d go mine, and that was it.”
    “We had some memories together,” he said.
    She shrugged a little. “Teenage memories. And that’s all, I figured.”
    “More than teenage,” he said. “Some were pretty adult.” He smiled.
    “Yes. I remember those, too,” she said. She added a small, disarming grin.
    “And now here we are,” he said.
    “Yes. Here we are.”
    They were silent for a moment.
    “I bought a little food and something to drink,” Moth said. “How about we find one of the picnic tables and talk there.”
    “Okay,” she said.
    The first thing he