Pippa’s version of events was incredible.  I had forgotten some things and had questions about others.  Finding out I was a lost puppy she wanted to avoid after our first meeting was disturbing.  I thought I had made a great impression on her the first time.  I imagined being dubbed ‘Pink’ had been like a rite of passage into her inner circle.  Still, she hadn’t sent me away and her comments about my eyes were flattering.

Her description of our first break-up was about what I had expected.  I had been sure she was only with Bastien to spite me but hearing the truth didn’t make me feel better about it.  The details of her return and the lovemaking were accurate if skimpy on details.  I honestly thought she had told me the truth about the box of condoms.  That was about the only part that made me laugh.

I remembered vividly our botched wedding attempt but I had no idea how she had felt about it.  Her story of being physically sick on the way to the ceremony offered more insight into the torture she had been experiencing.  She had told me very little of that when we had last met at Rod and Rhonda’s.  That information coupled with my recollection of our last conversation reminded me how hard it had been for her to tell me she was leaving and how difficult it had been for me to let her go.

“So, that’s it, Pippa?  You have nothing to say about the past year?”

“I told you, Pink, don’t ask me about Quebec City because I’m not prepared to talk about it.”

“Can I ask if you were with Bastien?”  I had to know.  She said she wasn’t going to Quebec to be with him but I also had been worried he’d seize the opportunity of Pippa being there just to make another play for her.

“I wasn’t alone but I wasn’t with Bastien either.  You’ll have to let it go at that.”

That was an admission I hadn’t expected.  She hadn’t been alone.  That was a bigger shock than thinking she’d been with Bastien.  I asked for it.  She had told me she would never forget me but she never said she’d come back to me.  I hadn’t let her go to Quebec City.  That wasn’t within my control.  I had agreed to her plans but I had harboured hope.

“Will you tell me, at least, how you came to be here at Trent?”

“I’ll tell you most of it.  Before I left for Quebec City, I told my mother the truth about what my father did to me.  It was the most difficult thing I’ve ever done.  She was still dealing with Roger’s death and she’d been seeing my father again.  My revelation was the end of that.  She wanted us to go to the police and press charges but I couldn’t do that.  Maybe my father was drunk and didn’t know his own actions but then again maybe he knew exactly what he was doing.  I didn’t want to face all of that.  I needed to get past it.”

Pippa took a deep breath before she continued.

“My mother agreed not to pursue it legally but she stopped seeing him, cut off contact, and filed for divorce.  All of that became finalized while I was away.”

“You didn’t tell me how your mother reacted after you told her you were going to Quebec City.”  It couldn’t have been any worse probably than I had felt after she had announced her plans to me.

“She was devastated and we argued and cried and we got through it.  I convinced her like I convinced you.  I was going regardless so she had to eventually agree to the way of things.  She gave up the avocado house and moved into a two-bedroom apartment.  She always had hopes I’d come back to her.”

“What about Trent?  How’d you end up here?”

“I applied to three schools with Business programs.  Trent was the only one to accept me.  I hadn’t completed Grade 13 when I went to Quebec and the other Universities didn’t even look at me.  I had to write a letter and an essay explaining why I wanted to go here.  I guess I got lucky or maybe my writing was convincing.”

“And where are you living?” I asked.  I had traced her movements as the running girl and it didn’t seem she was living in a University residence.
“I came back from Quebec at the beginning of August.  I was with my mother for week and then she helped me find a room up here.  I live with a wonderful single mom named Beth.  She has a 3-year-old son and there’s a girl who’s not yet one.  I rent a room and I share in child care duties for a discount on my rent.  I think I’ve found my calling.  I love children.  That’s part of my business plan I’m developing.  I want to eventually open a children’s clothing shop.”

“That’s a pretty big step.”

“Part of the program helps you develop a business proposal and they have links to agencies and banks for grants and loans.  I thought of calling my store ‘Little Carlotta’s because you know I’ve always loved the name.  I think though that it’s a little long so I’m thinking of ‘Little Lotta’s’.”

“Like the comic book character?” I asked.

“What comic book character?”

“Little Lotta.  You seriously haven’t heard of Little Lotta?

“Not until this moment,” she replied.  “I don’t want to get in trouble.  I guess I’ll have to come up with another name.”

“How about Li’l Lotta’s or just simply Carlotta’s?”

“Just plain Carlotta’s?”  She thought about it a moment before replying.  “Carlotta’s,” she repeated.  “I like it.  It’s unique enough.”

“It might be a good way to finally get Carlotta out of your system.  My friend Bags says if you tell other people your story, it’s like giving it away.”

“That Carlotta’s under control.  I took care of that in Quebec City.  Sorry, I said I wasn’t going to mention Quebec City.”

“It’s okay.  You’re here now,” I replied.  “What happens next?”

“Well, you go back to your friend Bags and tell him you met the running girl and you told her your story.  Tell him she told you hers as well and now you’re even.”

“Are we Pippa?  It’s sappy but I’m still carrying a torch for you.”

“I’m still carrying something for you too, Pink, but you’ve got your plans and I’ve got mine.”

“And never the twain shall meet?”

“I’m not sure what that means Pink.”

“It’s from Rudyard Kipling.  He was a British author.  I studied him in the last year of High School.  It’s a line in The Ballad of East and West.  ‘East is East, and West is West, and never the twain shall meet’.  It means the two exist separately and never meet.  I’m wondering if that’s what you’re telling me.”

“You always were smarter when it came to literature.  Browning and ‘Pippa Passes’ and now Kipling and ‘Never The Twain Shall Meet’.  I’m not that same Pippa anymore who tries to make everyone else happy.  I’m focussed on me and my responsibilities.  

“And the twain?”  I thought I was being clever but I did notice she had neglected to address it.

“I don’t know Pink.  You’re probably getting tired of hearing that but I haven’t got it all figured out.  I’ve got plans and that’s where my head is these days.  When I’m not working on school then I’m busy with the children.  That’s why I run at nights.  After everything has quieted down, I go for a run sometimes.  It helps to clear my head.  But I think you know how that works.”

I did know that.  I was always running when it came to her and I had started to run a little more around campus ever since my two sightings of the girl who turned out to be Pippa.  It looked like there would be more running in store when it came to our relationship.  Or was it just a friendship now?

“I guess I’ll see you around then, running girl.”  What else could I say?  She had cut the ties when she went to Quebec.  After meeting her again I realized they were still severed.  

“Nice to have met you, Mr. Carter.  The running girl thanks you for the coffee.”

“Goodbye, Pippa.”

“How about we just say ‘until next time.’  I’d like that.”

We had gotten good at saying goodbye.  It would have been nice to have said hello and let it go at that.  We’d both walked away from each other enough times that I wasn’t sure each time might not be the last time.  I was counting on seeing her again but it wasn’t up to me.

We hugged goodbye and we both lingered a little longer on the hug thinking the other would release first.  I could never forget her touch or the feel of her.  There are some things that stay with you always.

Later I would relay to Bags what happened.

“That’s it Jeff?  You both went your separate ways?”  Bags was more than perplexed.  I think he also might have been a little frustrated with me.

“Bags, have you ever tried to put a puzzle together with pieces missing and you didn’t have the box lid to show you the scene you were trying to assemble? That’s what it’s like for me.  She’s always had secrets and either she’s piled on more or she’s replaced some of the old ones with newer mysteries.”

“So now you know,” Bags replied.

“Now I know what?  I’m no further ahead than before we placed the ad.”

“Sure you are, Jeff.  You seem to forget we only placed that notice so you could see if the running girl was Pippa.  But remember, at the start of this I said you needed to find out if your affair was over.  I think you have your answer.”

“What answer is that?  She said ‘until next time’.  Am I supposed to take that as I’ll see you around or we’ll be together again someday?”

Bags and I had been sitting around in my room and I was stretched out on my bed staring at the ceiling as if I’d find solutions in the cracks in the tiles.  Bags suddenly leaned over and punched me in the stomach.  It wasn’t very hard but it was enough to throw me off guard.

“What the hell was that for?” I yelled.

“I thought of striking lower but I didn’t think you’d appreciate that.  Have I got your attention now?”

“Damn right you do!  Just don’t do that again!”  

“Well, that’s what relationships are like.  Sometimes it feels like you get hit in the gut.  The pain eventually goes away but you’re wary of the next time.  This girl has done that to you too often and you keep lining up for seconds.  I think that’s the answer.”

“Again, what answer?”  I covered my stomach and also watched his hands in case he took a shot at my head.

“That you’re stupid, Jeff,” Bags replied.  “If someone sucker punches you and you keep lining up expecting something different each time but the punches keep coming, then you’re either into pain or you’re just plain stupid.  I think you’re a little bit of both.”

“I must be stupid because you’re starting to make sense to me.  I’m tired of that punch but that warm sensation afterwards when the pain’s easing keeps me wanting to come back for more.”

“Do you want me to sock you one again and see how much you like it?”  
I grabbed my pillow and covered my tender parts.  It wasn’t unlike Bags to hit me again just to drive his point home.

“No, I’ll pass thank you.  I think I’ll just lick my wounds for a while, Bags.  She’s always come back to me before and it was better each time.  I guess I really am into pain.”

“Dr. Bags has spoken!  I think it’s time you paid my fee.  Beers on you.”

Bags and I celebrated by getting good and drunk in my room.  We thought about going out but I didn’t want to go downtown and possibly see Pippa running again so soon.  

“Want to see a souvenir?” I asked Bags.  We were feeling pretty good late in the evening and I wanted to show Bags a depressing memento of my relationship with Pippa.  “Pull out the bottom drawer of my desk and look at the back.”

Bags reached in and extracted the SHIELDS pack.  He opened it and a single wrapped condom landed on the desktop.

“What’s this?” he asked.

“Remember that warm sensation I was talking about earlier?  That reminded me of another warm sensation she kept hitting me with.  That condom is the remaining token of a beautiful affair.  I almost married the girl because of sex.  She plied me with her wares and I gave her my heart in exchange.”

“You’re quite the romantic buddy.  Why do you keep it if it’s a sad reminder?”

“I live in hope.”

In the days following my meeting with Pippa, I tried to think less and less of her.  It wasn’t easy.  I studied, I ran, and I kept on letting Bags wear me down with his free psychology.  

I didn’t see her for a few weeks and our paths didn’t pass.  Either she was being overly cautious or I was.  Weeks became months and I became distracted by school and Bags.

Occasionally I would put an ad in the student newspaper asking if the running girl wanted to meet the ogre for coffee.  I’d suggest The Old Grind and a date and time but each time she failed to show.  I started to realize I was being sent a message by her absence.  I had told Bags I lived in hope but there should have been a sign over the coffee shop door that read ‘abandon hope, all ye who enter here’.

I eventually gave up on seeing Pippa again and decided to spend some time with Libby from the floor above.  We shared some classes and an interest in English literature.  She wrote poetry she shared with me and it was good.  Some of it was more than good.  There was none of the existential verse similar to the poetry I’d heard that time at the pub or the sappy romantic trifle girls from my high school used to write for homework assignments.  Libby had written a series of poems that talked about a limit between youth and adulthood and how you transition by just passing time.  The analogy was like a speed limit you try to accelerate past but you never actually get to the other side unless you slow down to the speed of life.  Maybe it was a little existential after all but I liked it.

Libby was not like Pippa at all.  She was dark-haired and fair and didn’t seem to have baggage.  She was the oldest of five and spoke well of her parents and siblings.  I liked not having to worry about hazards around her.  Bags called her ‘treacle’ because she was too sweet for his tastes; this coming from a guy who hardly kept anything but sweets on his person.  I didn’t mind Libby because she wasn’t Pippa and I needed a little bit of someone who wasn’t Pippa to take my mind off the one who was.

There was nothing physical or romantic in my relationship with Libby.  She was good company and a good distraction.  She sensed I wasn’t ready to commit to anything beyond our friendship so she never hinted she wanted anything more but I often wondered.  She’d stop by to see me and talk about lectures or studies and I began to look forward to her impromptu visits.  I’d never had that kind of relationship with Pippa.  Yes, when we were together I lived in those moments but when Pippa was gone I felt like I couldn’t breathe until the next time.  That reminded me of those sappy love poems I’d heard but I personally wouldn’t write elegies about it.

When Libby was around, I didn’t think about Pippa.  She knew nothing about that part of my life and I didn’t think I needed to share.  I wouldn’t ask her if she had previous boyfriends and she never ventured toward a discussion about that portion of my past.  I seriously began to think of Libby as more than a friend and when we broke for Christmas vacation I couldn’t wait until it was over so I could see her again.  

I hadn’t ever experienced that variety of normal feelings.  With Pippa, it had been win or lose sometimes and I often found myself on the losing end.  My emotions ran the gamut when it came to Pippa and none of them had come close to being normal.  This new experience with Libby was not as intense as it had been with Pippa but I found myself enjoying just not having to think about what something meant or about what came next.  However, I also began to question whether I could be happy with anyone else.  Normal was simple.  Normal was good.  The problem was I couldn’t help feeling I didn’t deserve normal.

Early Spring rolled around and I was happy.  I’d stopped placing ads for Pippa to read and I got back into a groove of not fixating on her.  I had done this before when she first left me and then again when she went off to Quebec.  I knew how to be apart from her even if I didn’t like it.  This time was different.  I had friends like Bags and Libby to keep me grounded.  It hadn’t been like that in high school.  When Pippa and I had parted back then, I worked hard on my class load and kept pretty much to myself.  I couldn’t even associate with Ben because his ties with Sandra were too close to Pippa.

It was 1980 and I was twenty.  I felt twenty.  If I’d been asked a few years earlier what it would be like to be twenty, I would have described it exactly as I was experiencing it that spring.  I was independent and I had friends and I was content.  Each time Pippa and I had separated I had learned to deal with the scars.  I’d developed an extra layer of skin and toughened up or wizened up to the way of things.  She may have been in the same city but she might have been a million miles away or back in Quebec City.  I didn’t see her and she had passed on my lame attempts at friendly reconciliation in the form of ads to the running girl.

“Did you see this week’s student newspaper?” Bags asked me one afternoon after I had made my way back from a late class.  He thrust the paper at me and waited until I grabbed it.  “Check out the ‘personal’ section.  You can’t miss it.”

I flipped through the paper and found the part to which Bags had alluded.  It was a two-word message ‘Think Pink’ and a date and time at The Old Grind.

“So what, that could mean anything.”  Of course, I knew that the wording had been intended for me.  

“Oh come on, Jeffy-boy, it clearly calls out your name.  It’s like the bat-signal.  You have to answer it.”

“It says ‘Think Pink.’  That’s not me.  My name’s Jeff or Jeffy-boy as you like to call me.”  I was also pal, buddy, chum, and a few other choice names like sucker or Mr. Stupid when Bags was trying to make a point to me.

“Okay pally,” Bags started but this label also wasn’t something he hadn’t called me before, “you can’t tell me you’re not the least bit curious?”

“Dr. Bags, there’s nothing to analyze here.  You’ve taught me well.  I’ve lost count of the number of stomach punches you’ve laid on me in the past few months.  Whenever I got nostalgic for Pippa, you’d catch me unaware with your fist.  It’s been a while though since you’ve tried it so I must be doing something right.”

“Suit yourself.  If you’re happy with treacle then who am I to interfere?”
“Libby’s not treacle!  She’s nice.  I’m happy.  We’re happy.

Bags had followed me into my room with his argument and had perched himself on the edge of my desk.  He leaned over and worked out my bottom drawer and plunged his hand inside.  He pulled out the near-empty box of condoms and tossed them on my bed.

“Treacle or not, does she give you that warm feeling?”  Bags turned and walked out.

I picked up the SHIELDS pack and tossed it in my wastepaper basket.  There were warm feelings and then there were warm feelings.  I could do without them.  Couldn’t I?  I retrieved the pack from the garbage and carefully slipped them behind some books on my shelf.  I didn’t want Bags finding it again and using it as ammunition against me.

What could Pippa’s notice of ‘Think Pink’ mean after all this time?  We weren’t together.  She’d been with me and then she’d been with Bastien and then there was a third person in Quebec City.  How had that turned out?  There might have been a fourth person since we’d last met.  What could ‘Think Pink’ mean?  There was only one way to find out.

I didn’t tell Bags I was going and I certainly didn’t share any of it with Libby.  It was late on a Saturday afternoon and Pippa was there before me.  God, it was good to see her.  I couldn’t deny it.  I had told myself Pippa was no Libby but then again there had never been anyone like Pippa.  All of that talk of warm feelings I had discussed with Bags paled to the warm feeling of seeing her again.  I knew a gut punch was coming but I was gladly walking into it.

“Hello, Pink, I didn’t think you’d come,” she said as I sat down.

“Well, no one else calls me Pink so I got the message.”

“Would you rather I call you Jeff?  It’s silly but I’ve called you Pink so often that Jeff just sounds strange to me.”

“You can call me Pink.  I think I said almost the exact same words when we first met even if you did think I was some kind of dolt.”

“I never called you a dolt, Pink.  I think I referred to you as nothing special.  Boy did I get that wrong. ”

“Last time we met, Pippa, you asked me what we were doing here.  I guess I have that same question now.”

She looked at me and something told me to get up and run.  She’d once posted a sign advising me to Run, Pink, Run and now everything inside me was screaming the same thing.  I stayed in my seat.  Bags said I must be into pain or I was just plain stupid.  All anyone had to do was tape a ‘kick me’ sign to my back and I’d be a complete prize chump.

“It’s been two years since my brother died, Pink.  It’s still difficult to think of him.  It hurts just to say his name.  Roger.  You understand don’t you Pink?”

So that was it.  I was a sounding board once again for her grief.  Or was this the first time she’d actually put me in that position?  As I recalled, our lovemaking had substituted for her mourning process in the weeks after his death.

“I’m sorry Pippa, I know how much that must still hurt.  I don’t mean to be rude but is that why you wanted to see me?”

“Do I have to have a reason, Pink?” she asked.

“Think Pink.  You mean to tell me there’s nothing behind that?”

She reached out across the table but I didn’t take her hand.  To me, any touch with Pippa at that moment would result in me getting burned.  I’d learned a little something from my experiences and Bags' tutelage. 

“You won’t even take my hand Pink?  From one friend to another?”

“I’m just inspecting for weapons,” I replied.  The comment had the effect on Pippa similar to a sting from a slap.  I knew how that felt but I also realized I had gone too far.  “I’m sorry Pippa that was uncalled for.  I guess I’m a little resentful of all the times I posted ads asking you to coffee and you didn’t respond.  I’ll put my knife away.”  I hoped she clued in to my reference to the time Rhonda had told Rod and I to leave our knives at home.

“Pink, let me be clear, I don’t want anything from you.  There’s no secret agenda or anything I’m hiding in the shadows.  I just wanted to see you.  Think Pink.  Think of all the times we’ve been good to each other…good with each other.  Believe it or not, even with everything going in my life, I still get lonely.  I may be nostalgic for a time we once had but I know that’s gone.”

Was this the windup to the knock-out punch I’d been expecting?  Why now after all these months, I thought.  No secrets?  Nothing hidden?  I was still suspicious.

“I wasn’t the one who called things off Pippa.  You were clear you had your plans and I didn’t factor into them.”

Pippa seemed to look past me.  She was hurting and I wasn’t making it easy on her.  How could I?  Every time I thought I had her out of my life she called to me in some way and I came running.  That was the story of my life.  I was always running when it came to Pippa.  It never stopped.
“Carlotta’s running me ragged,” she said quietly.  Her statement reminded me that the word running could have other meanings.  What was hers at that moment?  She was still looking off away from me.  

“Your business model or your personal demon?” I asked.  I hadn’t intended on being that blunt.  I still didn’t know what this meeting was all about.

“Would you believe me if I said both and neither?  I know you don’t want to be here Pink and I don’t blame you.  I was just looking for a little tea and sympathy.”

“Well, a coffee shop’s a good place for at least one of those.”  I decided to inject a little humour into our situation.  It was as much from being nervous and apprehensive than something out of wounded pride.  

“And the other?” she asked.

“I guess I can’t deny anything to a friend.”  I was starting to realize I should stop holding onto the past.  I wasn’t being a good friend at that point and maybe that’s all she wanted.

“Do you want to take a walk, Pink?  I think need some air.”

“Sure.”

I remembered back to when Roger had died two years earlier.  It had been unseasonably warm but walking with Pippa in the Peterborough streets that day was a little brisk.  There was a biting wind and I immediately regretted her suggestion.

“Where to?” I asked.  “Better make it quick because we won’t be out here for long in this weather.”

“I’ve never seen your residence,” she said.

“I’ve never seen yours either,” I replied.

“Would you mind if we went back to your place, Pink?  I need a little change of scenery.”

“What about the children?  Aren’t you helping out today?”  It occurred to me I knew little about her personal life in that city but there was something lonely and almost desperate in her request.

“Let’s just say I’m taking a personal day.”  It was cryptic but not out of character for her.

“I don’t think I made my bed this morning,” I offered.  I knew it wasn’t a deterrent and it wasn’t meant as one.  I was feeling that no argument would limit her determination.  Even my resistance was low at that point.  

“I’ve seen an unmade bed of yours before.  It never dissuaded me before.”

As we walked toward the bus stop, my insides were sending me out danger signals.  Something wasn’t right.  As if she could read my mind, she slipped her arm into mine.  Some things never changed.  I felt the old pull of what we had before and I was slowly giving in to it.  Where was Bags when I needed him?  If he was there I’d let him slug me and I’d stay down for the count.  It was difficult to say no to Pippa.

“It’s a long ride out,” I offered.  I was only half-heartedly putting up roadblocks.

“I don’t mind.  You know, Pink, I’ve been here for seven months and I’ve never even experienced a day in the life of a typical student.  Do you know, I’ve never even been to a pub?”

“You’re not missing much.  It’s mostly dark rooms and lousy poetry.  The beer’s not bad though.”

“Are you talking out of experience or was there an information brochure I missed?”

I hadn’t told her about my big pub experience of reciting my story about her in an effort to get her out of my system.  It obviously hadn’t worked.

“Just another average adventure with Bags.  Nothing to crow about.”

“Your friend Bags sounds like a strange character.  However, I’ve only met him the once so that’s not much to go on.”

“No, you’ve pegged him right.  He’s a strange character but I think he’s going to make a hell of a psychologist or psychiatrist or whatever he’s studying for.  Dr. Bags, watch out for his right hook.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” she asked.

“Skip it,” I replied.  “It’s an inside joke.”  What would Bags think when I showed up at our rooms with Pippa?  I considered stopping somewhere and buying some body armour.

The bus came and we rode out to the main campus and walked over to my residence.  Our conversation had been very superficial and neither of us offered new insights into our current lives.  She talked about her school program and assignments and I regaled her a little bit about Bags.

“Wow, about as I expected,” she said after seeing my room.  I had been right, I hadn’t made my bed.  I scurried quickly to make my room more presentable.

“Hey Jeff,” Bags said as he stuck his head in my door, “I thought I heard you come in.  Do you want to get a…?”  He left the question partially asked after seeing Pippa.

“Bags is it?” Pippa asked him.  “Bags to your friends and pretty girls?”
Bags was speechless for once.  I don’t think it had ever happened in the whole time I’d known him.

“Ugh Jeff, I found that thing you asked me about.  Why don’t you come to my room and get it?”

“What thing?”  I asked but quickly realized Bags’ intention.  “Oh, the thing.  I thought you lost that.  Excuse me, Pippa, I’ll be right back.”  I didn’t think we were fooling anyone.

Bags closed the door to his room when we got inside.  I was expecting a well-placed blow but he was holding back.

“What in the name of all that is holy is she doing here?”  I knew it was coming and Bags got right to the point.

“Think Pink.”  I decided that short and sweet was the best reply I could give him.

“You mean to tell me you showed up in response to that ad even after you told me you were going to ignore it?”  Bags was getting a little heated and I kept watching his hands to see if he was going to lash out at me.  “That makes no sense at all Jeff.”

I knew I was in trouble when I was Jeff and not one of the myriad nicknames he had for me.

“What else would you expect from me, Kevin?”  I thought I would use his real name as well to drive my point home.  “She wants something and I’m trying to find out what it is.  You better stay close and be ready to hit me if I need it.”

“You can count on that,” Bags replied.  “What about treacle?”

“Her name’s Libby, not treacle.  She doesn’t need to know anything.  She’s not part of this.  Pippa’s just here as a friend.  I’ve got it all covered.”

“Keep repeating that to yourself, buddy.  First sign of trouble, I’m letting you have it.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything less from you Bags.”

We went back to my room.  On entering, Bags gave me a hard slap on the back.  Libby was in there with Pippa.  I didn’t really need that warning shot from Bags because the bottom had already dropped out of my stomach.

“Hey Jeff, I was just getting acquainted with your friend here.  She tells me you two went to high school together.”  Libby was making it sound innocent enough but I had my doubts.

“Oh?  What else did she tell you?”  I braced myself for the impact from what was in front of me and possibly from Bags who stood behind.

“I just told her I knew you from before and only recently discovered you were here at Trent.”  Pippa was a good liar when she wanted to be or she was a minimalist when it came to the truth.

“Yeah, we ran into each other in a coffee shop downtown.  I invited her to see the residence.  Do you know she’s never even been to a pub?”  I was shortening my version of the truth as well and was hoping I was selling it well.

“Sounds like we’ve got some drinking to do,” Bags chimed in.  Dr. Bags to the rescue!

“I’m game if you’re all game,” Pippa replied.  “I wouldn’t mind a tour of the rest of the residence and other parts of the campus.  I’ve been here all year and I haven’t seen much outside of the section where the Business classes are held.”

What was her game?  I hadn’t seen her since the previous fall and now she was all sweet and friendly and wanting to be part of my new inner circle?  At least Libby seemed to think Pippa was sincere.  I decided I better tread carefully and watch for landmines.

The four of us made a late afternoon of it and we gave Pippa the grand tour before having dinner.  I kept close to Libby while Pippa linked her arm with Bags.  I wasn’t sure who I was more worried for, Bags or myself.  She certainly was enjoying herself and although I put on a brave face, I was more ill at ease than anything else.

It was around eleven when we decided to call it a night.  Neither Pippa nor I had imbibed that much but Bags had made up for it.  Libby was somewhere in the middle.  I kept myself close between the pair because I wanted to hear anything Pippa might disclose to Libby and I was still searching for clues to Pippa’s motivation for a day out with others her own age.  Maybe it was that she was tired of the young children and certainly her housemate was older than her.  I just couldn’t buy she was suddenly interested in my campus life after dead silence for six months.

“Well, I guess you’ll be wanting to get back downtown,” I said to Pippa as I steered us near a bus stop.

“Wow, I was having such a grand adventure that I lost track of the time.  Will you stay with me Jeff while I wait for the bus?”  She’d been calling me Jeff all night.  She had picked up on the fact that no one else addressed me as Pink.

“Little lady, we will all chaperone you to your carriage,” Bags declared.  His verbiage became a little more eloquent as he became I little more inebriated.

“Oh, that’s so nice of you to offer but I was hoping to have a few moments alone with Jeff if that’s okay,” Pippa replied in response to Bags’ offer.

Bags shot me a warning look and Libby just stared ahead.

“Is that okay with you two?”  I asked.  “I’ll catch up with you later.”

“Then I shall chaperone the other fair lass back to her domicile,” Bags replied.  “Shall we dance?” he added.  He may have been drunk but I trusted him with Libby.  I also knew Libby could take care of herself and probably would be escorting Bags more than the other way round.

“I think you better let me lead,” Libby said to Bags.  “Pippa, it was nice to meet you.  Jeff, I’ll see you tomorrow.”  I wasn’t sure if the last statement to me was meant to be a threat.

Pippa and I took refuge in the glass bus shelter.  It was chilly and there was still a slight wind.  The area was deserted and still except for the occasional distance musings of Bags as he made his way back to the residence with Libby.

“Libby seems nice.  Is there something between you two?”

“I don’t know how to answer that.  I think about it sometimes.  Maybe she’s a placeholder for now.”  It was the best description I could give my relationship with Libby.  It was somewhere between friendship and something else.  I was having a difficult time deciding what that something else should be.

“Like Bastien,” Pippa said quietly.

“Are you still in touch with him?”  Was mentioning him like offering me a crumb of information?

“We write each other and sometimes he calls.  He’s a good friend but I think he’s like your Libby.  I’m not sure what he is to me.  A fallback maybe?  No one wants to be alone.”

I decided it was time to be direct with her.

“Pippa, it was nice seeing you again and introducing you to my friends but I’m still confused what today was all about.”

“I honestly don’t know Pink.  I told you I was tired and warn and maybe I’ve been feeling a little nostalgic.  Or maybe it’s…”  She stopped mid-sentence and grabbed my face and kissed me.

Suddenly I was back in the infield at Collegiate after the Long Relay and strains of ‘Viva Las Vegas’ was still sounding in my ears.  There was that warm feeling again.  I hadn’t even seen the punch coming.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” I said pushing her away.  “No, no, no.  I can’t do this again.  I’m not going to be blindsided this time.”  The warm feeling was spreading and then I found myself doing what I always did.  I grabbed her and kissed her back.  I walked right into the punch and I didn’t care.

We stood there and kissed for what seemed like ages.  We were only interrupted by the sound of the arriving bus.  A couple of students disembarked and the driver waited a couple of minutes before addressing us.  It was the same driver who had cursed at me when I had asked him to stop the bus after my first sighting of the running girl.

“Are you getting on?” he asked impatiently.

“No!” we both barked in unison.

“Suit yourself,” he said closing the door.

“Now what?” we both asked each other.  We were getting good at talking together as one.

“You first,” I offered.

“I don’t know Pink.  I was caught up in the moment.  Will there be another bus?”

“In another hour, I think there’s one around midnight.”

“This shouldn’t have happened.  I have to get back.  I shouldn’t have kissed you.”  She was sounding nervous and apprehensive but not all that convincing.

“I believe I kissed you last,” I pointed out.

“Oh, then it must be my turn,” she replied and then kissed me again.  We kept on kissing until we both started feeling numb from the cold.

“I think we should be getting inside somewhere.  We could go back to my room.  Bags is probably passed out by now and I did make my bed just for you.”

“Pink, this was never my intention.  I was just feeling vulnerable and lost and I reached out to you.  I guess old habits die hard.”

“It’s okay, Pippa, I’ll wait here with you until the next bus comes.”

“Or we can go back and unmake your bed.”

What was that I had said to Bags when he had asked me why I kept the last condom, I live in hope?  There was another phrase about hope that seemed appropriate at that time.  Hope Springs Eternal.  

We went back to my room and Pippa spent the night.  I struggled for a few moments when I couldn’t find the SHIELDS pack in my desk drawer but then remembered its new hiding place away from Bags.

I could say that the sex was amazing and that she was a great partner.  That was all true.  What I should also say was I regretted it when it was over and she was lying in my arms.  I had just made love to the girl of my dreams and I was still no closer to knowing what was going on.  Had I been played?  Had I been used?  Part of me didn’t care but the other part worried about what had just happened.  What did this mean for my relationship with Pippa?  What did it mean for my relationship with Libby?  Bags would probably compliment me and caution me in the same breath about keeping with two women.

Pippa fell asleep long before I did.  I lay awake wondering about the events of the day.  It had gone from what I believed to be a simple coffee to Pippa and I ending up in bed together.  I wasn’t complaining but confusion kept sleep from me for a long time.

When I awoke it was morning and Pippa was getting dressed.  I hadn’t heard her get up.  

“Oh, Pink, I didn’t mean to wake you.  I have to get going.”  She said it so matter-of-factly.  Had she planned on slipping out while I slept?

“Wait.  When will I see you again?”  Was she seriously walking out on me again?

“Pink, it’s early for explanations but let me say this was what it was.  You recognize how I am and I trust you.  I needed this.  It’s important to me for so many reasons to still be connected to you.  I just can’t do the day-to-day stuff like you want but I think you understand that.”

Well, that was the punch that laid me out.  I’d led with my chin so I shouldn’t have expected a different result than the other times with her.  She had needed me, if only for one night, and maybe she’d need me again in the future.  I didn’t know how much punishment I could take.

“Do you want me to walk with you to the bus stop?”  That was the only question I could ask her.  I wasn’t running on my own track anymore, I was running on hers.

“No, that’s okay.  Remember, we agreed to just say until next time.  Until next time.”

I got up from my bed and wrapped my blanket about me.  I watched her as she walked away down the hall.  I didn’t hear Bags come up from behind me but I felt the blow to my midsection.  That time, he didn’t pull his punch.