Where You Can Find Me by Fiona Cole
1
“Missing nineteen-year-old, Angela Clemmons, a student at the University of Cincinnati, was last seen leaving the Langsam Library on Tuesday night. Police are requesting that anyone with information come forward.
“University officials have urged students to walk in pairs and, if necessary, to use the emergency ROTC to walk them to their locations at night if they are alone. They are pleading with students to please use caution.
“While the school is patrolled by the campus police and all efforts are being put forth to make it a secure place, it is located just down the road from Vine Street, an area known for its high crime rate.
“Clemmons is the sixth student to have gone missing from the University of Cincinnati in the last seven months. The bodies of five students were recovered days after being reported missing, showing signs of multiple traumas, and in some cases, strangulation. The Cincinnati Police Department has not disclosed whether or not these murders are linked, but there is much speculation.”
“Ugh!”I placed my coffee cup and journal article down on the coffee table and sat on the couch. The news was beginning to depress me, not the attitude I wanted to start my Saturday morning out with. My head dropped to the back of the couch with a thud, and with closed eyes, my hand blindly searched for the remote, turning the television off.
I leaned forward, grabbing my paper and coffee, and took a long drink. It was my hug in a mug. Who needed a good morning cuddle when God made coffee? Not me. Caffeine and science got me through my day. Life was good. Lame, but good! Okay … mostly lame.
Sighing, I pulled my legs up on the couch and curled them underneath each other. I was beginning a new technique in my research lab that week and needed to read the article to get a better understanding of the process. Looking at the ridiculously long title of the paper, I decided to procrastinate a little bit longer. Bringing the coffee cup to my lips, my eyes moved from left to right, looking for something to distract me.
Laundry? Blech … No, thank you!
Grocery shopping? Again, no.
Organizing my clothes by the color of the rainbow? Desperate, but a possibility.
My musings to come up with another pathetic excuse ended when my phone rang. Thank you, sweet baby Jesus! I grabbed my phone from the coffee table and saw Evie’s name flash across the screen.
“What’s up, chica?”
“Not the number of guys I’ve slept with this month. And you know what? That shit needs to change starting tonight! You. Me. Dancing. I’m a woman on a mission, and I need my one and only BFF, Luella King, to be my wingwoman! You in?”
“Well, hello to you too. And when you ask so nicely, how could a girl say no? But what are you doing up so early?”
“What can I say? I have a way with words. The ladies can’t resist me. Neither can the guys, but it’s not usually words that get them to agree so easily.” She spoke the truth. “And I’m up this early because I had a design haunting my dreams. I needed to get it down on paper immediately. Inspiration strikes at the most random times. Not that ten-thirty is early.” A pause hung between us as she came to the conclusion I considered ten-thirty early. “What? Did you just get up?”
“No, I’ve been up.” For about thirty minutes. I wasn’t a morning person and loved sleeping in. I loved sleeping, period. I didn’t get much during the week, so I took what I could get on the weekends. Evie’s erratic sleep schedule gave me a headache just thinking about it. She could go on very little sleep as long as she had lots of “inspiration.” She was a freelance fashion designer but worked like a crazy artist. She would go months with nothing, and then all of a sudden, she’d be hit with the next big thing. During those times, I rarely saw her, and when I did, she had a pencil and pad next to her at all times. We had been friends for years—since college, and it never bothered me once I got used to it.
“Whatever you say, girl. I know you just got up and are probably enjoying your ‘hug in a mug,’” Evie replied sarcastically.
“Hey, don’t knock it.” I heard a dramatic sigh at the other end of the phone, and I knew she was waiting for me to get back to the point of her phone call. There would be no putting Evie off. “Sigh. All right. So when and where and what should I wear tonight?”
“Yes!” Her voice rang with victory. “Wear something sexy, and I will meet you at your place at nine tonight. We can take a cab to that new club your brother mentioned last week. See you then, chica. My vagina thanks you!”
And with those sweet parting words, she hung up, and I began mentally going through my closet for something sexy to wear. I guessed I should at least try to get some work done since I would most likely be hungover tomorrow. I leaned back over to grab my journal article and began to read.