Wrecked(20)

Like, why did she need to ask her something in front of Carole Patterson?

As if she can read her mind, Carole turns to Haley now. “Has Jenny discussed with you what your role will be if indeed this goes to the hearing phase?”

“I have a role?” Haley asks.

A flicker of irritation crosses Carole’s face. “Jenny?”

“We haven’t talked about it yet,” Jenny says. “I was hoping you could explain.”

Glancing down at the manila folder again, Carole purses her lips to a thin line, like a pale pink slash from cheek to cheek. She produces two handouts, each stapled neatly in the upper left--hand corner. She hands one to each of them.

“Both the complainant and the respondent in a sexual assault case have the right to an advisor throughout the entirety of the process,” she begins. “This is someone who may be present with them at every step along the way. Every step,” she repeats, looking at Haley. “They can offer advice and support outside hearings and meetings, but not during. The advisor can be an attorney. It can also be a dean or trusted faculty member. However, Jenny wants you to be her advisor.”

“Me?” Haley blurts.

“I want a friend in there with me,” Jenny says. “I’m already getting lots of advice.” She directs these words at Carole. As if this has already been discussed.

Carole turns to Haley. “This will be quite a commitment,” she says. “Of time and energy. Most importantly, you must be discreet. You must not discuss these proceedings with anyone. That’s harder than you think.”

“Jen.” Haley looks at her roommate. “I want to help. Really, I do. But wouldn’t you be better off with someone who has experience with this sort of thing?”

“I want a friend,” Jenny repeats. “I want someone I trust. Who gets what’s going on around here.” She stares pointedly at Carole.

“What about your chem prof?” Haley persists. “You like her. Or Carrie? Or—”

“I like my chem prof fine,” Jenny interrupts, “but I barely know her. And Carrie’s not allowed because she’s a SART person.”

Haley turns to Carole. “SART?”

“Sexual Assault Response Team,” Carole explains. Her eyes betray nothing.

No one speaks for a minute. Haley can’t say no. Only a total jerk would say no. And this annoys her. Because she’s being asked, but she doesn’t really have a choice.

“I think you should reconsider, but if not, then . . . okay,” Haley says.

Relief spreads across Jenny’s face.

Without another word, Carole produces one more sheet from the folder, handing it to Haley. She also glances at her wristwatch.

“This is a confidentiality agreement that you must sign in order to be Jenny’s advisor. Please read it thoroughly before you sign. Any discussion of this case outside the proceedings is a code of conduct violation.

“The sections of the handbook I’ve printed out for you detail every step of the sexual assault hearing process,” she continues. “Until the respondent answers the claim there’s no action pending, but in the interim please take a look at these pages and familiarize yourselves with what lies ahead in the event of a hearing. Haley, I’ve highlighted the sections in your packet defining the role of the advisor.” She looks at them expectantly. “Do you have any questions you’d like to ask me?”

Haley suppresses the urge to laugh. Is she kidding? Several zillion questions flood her brain, all elbowing each other out of the way so she can’t focus on a single one. “Can I call you if I think of something?”

“Certainly,” Carole answers.

“Actually, I have a question,” Jenny says. Carole turns to her. “About the confidentiality. I can talk to Haley, right?”

“Well, yes. Since she’s your advisor. But Jenny, we have excellent counseling services here at the college if you need someone to talk to.”

“What about the SART leaders? The ones who took my call? Do they count as counselors?”

Carole looks uncomfortable for the first time. “Think of the Sexual Assault Response Team as the ambulance. They are first responders. Now it’s time for the doctors to take over. Your best resources are trained counselors, Jenny. Not other students.”

Jenny doesn’t look happy with this answer.

Carole stands, so they do, too.

“I’ll be in touch as soon as we have the response.” She turns to Haley. “You may return the signed confidentiality form to my assistant. Thanks for coming in.”

In the hall outside Carole Patterson’s closed door, Jenny drops her pack and throws her arms around Haley.

“Thank you!” Jenny whispers fiercely in Haley’s ear. “Thank you so much!”

Haley’s head swims as they descend the stairs. The groaning wood is practically verbal. Stu--pid! Stu--pid! each step seems to say. What has she just agreed to? She’d been totally caught off guard.

And scaredy--mouse managed to get what she wanted.





. . .


Boxes, bottles, cases, hauled inside: he begins.

The lemonade hisses softly as he pours it into the plastic garbage can. A cloud of yellow dust rises: four containers. Then, water: six gallon jugs. The air in the room smells sweet.