Seanday Lunch: The Notebook. Pt3

Read part 1 here

Read part 2 here

I sat back and chugged another beer, the rest of the guys were rough housing and bitching about Dakota Tec: the team we were playing tomorrow.

I shared the dorm with two others; we had our own bedrooms, but shared a common living area and a kitchen. We'd been joined by Tony Norberg and Ryan Schmitz from next door for a guy’s night.

"Those pussies don't have a chance in hell, not with our number of wins. Isn't that right Bechtel?" Norberg yelled high fiving Schmitz; the room was thick with testosterone.

Finishing my beer I looked over at Bechtel--one of my roommates--who was grinning inanely in the #53 team shirt. "Throw me another beer Tony, this fucker’s empty," I yelled. Norberg grabbed one from the chiller and threw it across the room. I caught it and cracked the cap off on the edge of the table. "Thanks," I grunted sinking lower into the chair taking another chug.

Bechtel looked over. "You're dragging us all down bro' what's up?" He muttered.

"Like I need to tell you," I snorted.

His eyes narrowed. "Look just don't be a jerk," he muttered prodding my chest. He looked over at the rest of the jocks starting a game of beer pong. "Guys! Set me up," he yelled.

I needed a break and headed for the door. "Hey Luke, where you going?" Tony called out. "Leave him, he'll be back," Bechtel groaned.

I made my way to one of the large communal areas in the apartment block. I picked one of the large multi-coloured chairs; its vinyl sticky surface was barely comfortable. I sighed and sipped at the beer. I was trapped; inside I was kicking myself as I went over the past week again.

---

I'd returned to the apartment complex in the skin of Luke Baulk. Back at the professors house it had been a tough choice choosing between Luke and the nerdy Marshall Gloaming. The professor had quickly chosen another identity: I'd figured he'd chosen someone close to Luke, with a bit of luck he'd make contact.

Thankfully when I got to the dorm it was empty. I spent some time searching the bedrooms of Luke's two roommates, and then the remainder of the apartment. There was nothing to suggest anything unusual. Greg Bechtel's room--the team's quarterback--had a pile of football gear stacked up in the corner of the room, dirty clothes that insulted my sense of smell discarded in another pile waiting for laundry day. The other bedroom belonged to Sean Mitchell--a wrestler and lineman--his football kit stacked neatly in a corner, his wrestling singlet’s hung up, by the door a sack of dirty laundry.

It was late evening, and I settled down with a beer to watch some sport, easing myself into Luke's routine. Remembering the notebook I pulled it from my pocket, more text had written itself; "You need to hurry, time is running out. Be careful, the professor is not to be trusted." There were no other clues to the new identity. I dropped the notebook to the table and gulped some beer.

It was the third quarter of the game when the door opened; I looked over as Mitchell walked in. He paused doing a double take; a confused look etched his face. "What the fuck are you doing here? I thought you were out of town seeing your parents?" He asked cautiously dropping his rucksack next to the couch. I watched him as he disappeared into his bedroom to make a call on his iPhone. He returned grabbing a beer from the chiller and dropped into a chair, from his rucksack he pulled his laptop and started working.

"You seen Marshall Gloaming or Professor Jackson recently? I need some help with my studies," I casually asked sipping on my beer watching him carefully.

He looked over thoughtfully. "Not for a while, kinda weird them disappearing," he paused for a moment and then wrote some notes before returning to his laptop. If this was the professor, he was hiding it well.

The door opened again, and Greg Bechtel walked in pulling off his shirt and dropping his kit bag. Mitchell looked over. "Clear up your shit Greg, and keep it in your own room I don't want to live in a pigsty."

Bechtel grunted something under his breath and picked up his gear and threw it through his bedroom door. He grabbed a beer and looked at me; his cool grey eyes studied me slowly. I stared back, unblinking. "What?" I snorted.

"Wasn't expecting you back, that's all," he retorted.

"Yeah, nice welcome back bro'," I muttered returning to the game.

Bechtel pulled at Mitchell's laptop screen trying to read it. "That the Lit class homework?"

Mitchell frowned pulling the screen back. "No, just working on a story for the blog," he replied through gritted teeth.

"Oh that shit. Lemmie have a look at the Lit homework when you finished it right?"

From Luke's memories, everything seemed normal; neither of his roommates was appearing out of character. Mitchell closed his laptop. "You guys going to the New Year party at Delta Pi?"

"Shit yeah!" Bechtel yelled. I shrugged and nodded, it was in character with Luke's laid back attitude and I didn't want to give myself away. With luck, I'd bump into the professor's new identity there: I'd thought.

The next couple of days blurred, and the party stretched over two days. I still hadn't made contact with anyone I suspected might be the professor.

I stumbled out of my room and collapsed in the couch holding my head. My eyes fell to the table and the notebook; fuck I forgotten about that. I snatched it up and flipped through the pages: damn, there were a lot of scribbled notes. Scanning through, it appeared that time had run out. It indicated that after the stroke of midnight on December 31st the professor would be locked into his new identity.

I sunk back into the couch, I'd failed. "What's up Baulk?" Bechtel chuckled launching himself over the couch and landing next to me. He saw the notebook in my hand. "Oh right, you figured it all out now? Only just a little bit late huh?" He drawled, with a smug look on his face.

It figured; he had to be in someone close to Luke. "So you’re the professor huh?"

"Damn you got me," he sneered. "Little you can do about it now buddy, I'm all sealed in nice and tight. I knew I just had to sit it out for a couple of days. When you appeared looking like Luke, all I had to do was just be Greg." It was then I realised I never had a chance of finding the professor myself.

He grinned at me. "You still haven't realised have you?"

"What?" I answered.

He laughed. "This is priceless; you've only got a set period when you can take off these skins. You've been wearing that for what, five days?" I nodded slowly. "Then congratulations, you're the new Luke Baulk now."

It was then reality caught up, the notebook wasn't just talking about time running out to find the professor it was trying to warn me about the time limit. Desperately I picked at where the mask had joined the skin, but it was totally smooth. I sighed resting my head in my hands.

---

A voice brought me back to the large communal room. "You OK bro'?" Mitchell asked sitting next to me.

"Yeah, I guess."

"Bechtel can be a real dick sometimes, come back to the party man. Besides I need a partner for beer pong," he smiled. I sighed and followed the wrestler back to the apartment. There was nothing I could do but be Luke Baulk, keep tabs on the Greg Bechtel and wait.