I frowned and snorted softly, causing everyone in the van to peer at me for a moment. I ignored them as I bitterly recalled that the jerk had dared to admit over the phone that he had called me names in front of his family, but he hadn’t the nerve to even write an e-mail telling me he refused to allow me to “burden” him anymore. Blocking me from his MSN messenger, our only form of communication between Speech years, took less effort.

Finding out from a vindictive ex-boyfriend had hurt worse. Jet had come online and duly announced that Amadeo was online, but I had argued that Tim actually wasn’t. “Here, Duchess,” he used my nickname in an effort to annoy me, “sign into my screen name.” I had typed in Jet’s password and seen Tim’s online name. Instantly, I had signed back into my e-mail, wrote a letter brimming with accusation, and hoped that anger could lessen the disappointment of what I perceived as betrayal. I had intentionally recalled every moment that Tim had acted like a jerk. Then, I’d vowed solemnly to never speak to him again before I blocked him from my list.

A burst of laughter startled me from my reverie like a flock of pheasant from the cover of brush. Russ, Amanda, and Cole listened to a Bill Cosby comedy routine, but their laughter quieted to occasional snorts of mirth. My hazel eyes searched for a distraction from my thoughts before I gave up and glanced back out the driver’s side window.

A mere month prior to that moment, my life had turned 180 degrees from the events the year before: My depression had waned until it only returned for short periods of time; Justin, a handsome guy from Tim’s Speech team, began “talking” to me; and, speech camp approached quickly.  One night, Justin had came online and warned, “I have some bad news. Tim will be at camp.” That day, I had shrugged. To riddance with Timothy Howard; he couldn’t hurt me worse than he already had.

Surprisingly, I truly believed that for a full three days.  Amadeo had appeared on my MSN for the first time since March late that third night.  At that point, two weeks remained until Speech camp; I became instantly suspicious. What did he plan to do? Did he want to break Justin and me up? A week passed before my suspicious curiosity demanded I unblock him.

Less than twenty-four hours later, a message had popped up from him with a single word in the sent line; “Hi.”  Anger, and maybe disappointment, welled up.  I sent, “Block me back.”  The note must have shocked him, because the notice revealed that typed for five full minutes before sending, “Why?” Since I had no desire to acknowledge any probable reasons, I signed out.

Once again, I looked around the roomy vehicle.  I relaxed in the seat to listen to Amanda’s remarks that guys are only trouble.  I couldn’t condemn her for it, because I heartily agreed. My hope remained that Tim would avoid me.  During the ride, I reassured myself repeatedly that the only reason the prospect of seeing Tim bothered me was because my anger made me unpredictable.  No, it couldn’t be that I didn’t trust myself not to forgive him.

We pulled onto Western Kentucky University’s enormous campus, right next to the only other vehicle in that parking lot.  In her normal chipper mood, Amanda jumped out and moved the seat to release me from my spacious prison.  I nodded to the man who had driven the van that parked beside us; then, I almost collapsed when Tim opened up the blazer’s back door.  My eyes instinctually averted as I walked to the back of our minivan to grab my duffle bags.  Luckily, Justin waved in an effort to ease the tension while Tim seemed to look through me.

Amanda and I helped unpack each other’s possessions, and I went to meet up with Justin in his dorm.  While Justin and I talked, Tim entered the room three times.  By the time we left for lunch, I realized that-- everywhere I turned-- Tim was near.  He even tried to lean against me while I stood in the back corner of the elevator!

I managed to avoid him Sunday night after opening ceremonies by walking with long strides back to the dorms.  Since I was the first to arrive, I could be ready to reenter the dorm’s lounge when he just made it to his room.  Monday night, though, I felt the heavy weight of depression descending upon me, so I sat outside on the blackened porch of the dorm, in the corner where I was virtually invisible.  No one looked toward me as the people passed, yet Tim stopped and began to slowly search the shadows until he located me before continuing on inside.

[i]He is one of the jerks of male kind. You don’t want him down here.[/i] I repeated that over and over for seven minutes ... and then that jerk sat down beside me.  Although our shoulders touched, I refused to acknowledge his presence.  We sat in silence, side by side, for over an hour before the counselors came out and told us it was lights out.  We stood and walked without a word.  The next night, after he sat down, I asked, “Why did you block me?”

As he explained the pressure he had been under and the problems between his girlfriend and himself... how he couldn't handle my problems on top of it all, my shoulders slumped.  I nodded to him when he apologized, and we began to lean against one another while catching up on each other’s lives.  I told him about how Justin had admitted to kissing another girl while dating me, and he advised me to forget about it.  Wednesday night, we met up in the same place again.

On Thursday, I saw Tim all day.  We switched backpacks since mine weighed a ton and walked the campus.  By lunch, I couldn’t wait to see him that night in my corner.  He ate supper with me, and, after dismissal from my Extemporaneous Speaking lecture, I sat outside the class alone.  Oddly enough, the first person I saw walk out was Tim.  He sauntered up to me with his hands in his pockets and a question upon his lips.  “What are you doing?”

I shrugged.  “Waiting for a group of people to come out to walk over with.”

He grabbed my hand and pulled me up.  “Walk with me.”

I nodded compliance and strode along beside his towering form with my hands stuffed into my back pockets.  He walked toward the huge fountain in the center of campus.  I noticed idly that a group of people had already gathered around the fountain.  The crazy students were even running through.  I sat on the wall beside a guy my age and watched as Tim joined the foolish crowd.  When the campus police pulled up, we all ran away from the area.  Or, at least into the shadows of the amphitheatre’s arches to give him a chance to wring out his dripping T-shirt.  To my surprise, he hugged me until I dripped water as well.

On the leisurely walk toward the dorm, we discussed the problems Justin and I had encountered in our so-called relationship, and we decided that I should probably tell Justin I couldn’t handle such a “relationship.”  At dorms, we took the stairs to our rooms.  I left him at the seventh floor and continued up to the eighth.  After dropping off my backpack, I returned to my corner.  Moments later, I closed my eyes and fell into semi-consciousness.

Tim’s hand on my shoulder, moments later, startled me into a standing position. Tim smiled and took my seat before motioning me to sit back against him.  Instead, I lay down with my head resting upon his thigh.  Instantly my eyes began to close.  I felt his hands resting on my arms and smiled through the fog surrounding me.  “I still trust you, you know,” I whispered.

Though my eyes were closed, I could hear his smile.  “Once a champion, always a champion.”  I made what I hoped was an affirmative noise.  And, that was the last words that I recalled speaking.