Janie Face to Face Read Online Free Page B

Janie. “How much walking there is, and how much of it is uphill.”
    “Want to walk over to Riverside Park with me?” he asked.
    Riverside Park was a thin green strip that ran down the Hudson River for miles, dotted with softball fields and tennis courts, a marina and children’s playgrounds, dog parks and hundreds of benches. It was patrolled constantly. Today the park would be packed with nannies pushing strollers, people of all ages and types sipping coffee, and high school ball teams practicing on dusty fields.
    The man was smiling at her, a tender smile. A charmingsmile. “I’d enjoy the company,” he said in a careful sort of voice; a voice that said,
No risk. It’s public. Plenty of people around
. “We have an hour of daylight left,” he added.
    This campus, thought Janie, has thousands of young women, and he saw me across the quad and wants my company. She felt the tiny weight of her cell phone in her hand. She wanted to text Sarah-Charlotte: Maybe I’ve met him!
    Him
. The elusive future boyfriend she and Sarah-Charlotte both dreamed of—perfect, of course, and madly in love.
    No. She would not tell Sarah-Charlotte anything until she was sure. “That sounds nice,” she said, although it sounded way better than nice—it sounded romantic and exciting and wonderful.
    They did not exchange names. He adjusted his stride to hers. He was a talker, which was perfect. She could listen and gather her thoughts.
    “I want to write,” he told her. “I’m studying creative writing. It’s harder than I thought it would be. But I have wonderful professors.”
    The only thing Janie had ever written easily was her college entrance essay. She was still amazed that she had written it at all, never mind sent it in. She was even more amazed that whoever was on that acceptance committee had given her exactly what she asked for: anonymity. Nobody had a clue that she was the face on the milk carton.
    When they reached the park, they chose the paved path closest to the river and walked slowly. Janie usually watched the river traffic, and the passersby, the children and dogs and skyline. This time, she saw none of it. She took up her shareof the conversation. She talked about college and classes and the dorm.
    The sun was sliding out of sight. They had walked many blocks. They cut across the park to Riverside Drive and caught a number 5 bus going north. It was full. They jostled against each other. He caught her arm to steady her. “My name is Michael,” he told her. “Michael Hastings.”
    “Michael,” she repeated. She had always loved the name Michael.
    But now it was her turn. He was waiting to hear her name.
    What
was
her name?
    If this was her future husband (she hoped the poor man did not know that she was way past their first date and planning their wedding), he ought to be told her real name. But the wonderful thing about him (aside from good looks, great body, and good conversation) was that he knew nothing. Michael did not want to bask on the edges of some ancient crime. He wanted the company of a girl he had seen across the campus.
    “I’m Jane,” she said at last, as if he had asked for information that would stump a
Jeopardy!
champion.
    He chuckled. “It’s good to know you, Jane.”
    He was tall and looked down at her, while she was medium and had to look up at him. She couldn’t keep her gaze on him. He was giving her the shivers. Shivers she hadn’t felt in a long time.
    She thought of Reeve.
    Her entire life since seeing her face on that milk carton had been about loyalty.
    Did she need to be loyal to Reeve?
    Reeve, her rock and her friend, had been the most disloyal of all. He had sold intimate details of her story on the radio to get himself a slot on a talk show. She had hated him for a while and needed him again for a while, and could not quite completely get past what he had done. I love him, she thought. But I don’t have to be loyal. He’s a former boyfriend.
    A stab of pain shot