Wrecked(50)

“Now, finally, now, are they going to do something?” she demanded.

Haley knew exactly the “they” Jenny was talking about. “They’re trying. Carole called the college’s IT office as soon as we told her, and they blocked The Board from the server, but anyone with a data plan can still access it.”

“They’re also asking the company that runs The Board to put a virtual fence around MacCallum,” Gail added. “But that might take a couple days.”

Jenny turned to Carrie. “He’ll go now, won’t he? Jordan? They’ll have to throw him out after this, right?”

Carrie looked grim. “Carole’s supposedly interrogating his sorry ass right now. We’ll see what happens.”

Jenny didn’t respond, but collapsed on her bed again, knees pulled up to her chest.

“We should get her out of here,” Gail murmured. “It feels—and smells—like a cave.”

Carrie nodded.

Things moved quickly from there. Jenny needed little convincing to spend the night with Carrie at Out House. By the next morning, Carole had not only met with Jordan (and discovered he didn’t have the app on his phone, so . . . still no expulsion for him), but also had issued a campus--wide e--mail condemning The Board and threatening sanctions against anyone traced to the online attacks.

She also told them she was “looking into” a different room for Jenny. But it would take time, she said.

“Yeah. Time’s up,” Carrie declared when she heard that.

Hence the moving crew.

As they take stock of the messy room, Mona wastes no time telling Haley what she thinks of Carole. And her e--mail. Mona has brought a roll of faux--plastic garbage bags with her (“Bio-degradable, made from cornstarch,” she’d informed Haley, as if she needed reassurance), and while they stuff the items heaped on the bed into the environmentally correct bags, she vents.

“I mean, you’ve got to wonder: did she take how--to--be--stupid lessons? Because anyone who didn’t have The Board app before sure does now! Carrie says an hour after that e--mail went out, comments on the thread doubled. Doubled! A lot more of them were for our side, calling out the haters. But still.

“And this room thing? Bullshit. You know there’s space somewhere. If you ask me, Carole Patterson is good for nothing.”

Haley holds a many--jointed collapsible desk lamp in her hand. Will it rip through if she tries to bag it? “She’s good at lists.”

Mona looks puzzled. “Lists?”

“Yep. Bullet points. To--do lists. Every meeting I go to with her, she’s created a new one. It’s her superpower. She’s Action Item Woman.”

A short, sharp laugh escapes Mona. It punctuates the air like a bark. “Okay. You’re hilarious,” she says. No trace of irony.

Haley decides the lamp is not a faux--bag item and places it on top of Jenny’s desk. Carrie and Gail are due to arrive with a car, so maybe they’ll bring boxes?

“So, I don’t get something,” Haley says. “If Carole says there are no free rooms anywhere, how is it we’re moving Jenny permanently to Out House?”

Mona grins. “That’s thanks to yours truly,” she says. “I’m giving her my room. Action Item Woman has no clue.”

“But where will you go?”

“Just downstairs,” Mona says. “I have a friend who doesn’t mind making space for me.”

Haley gets the impression this is not much of a hardship.

“And you can thank me, too,” Mona adds. “I’m sure you don’t mind having a single, right?” She winks at Haley.

Mom will be thrilled. Haley hasn’t spoken to her family in days. They have no idea what’s been going on.

“I would have killed for a single my freshman year,” Mona continues. “Every weekend and most weeknights I was sexiled to the couch in the lounge. Sucked.”

“Not an issue with me and Jen,” Haley says quietly. Not for either of us, she doesn’t add.

Mona stands gazing at the growing collection of filled bags, hands on hips. She seems to be thinking. “When people ask where she’s gone, don’t say,” Mona tells her.

Haley’s shoulders drop. “Ugh. I mentioned it to Madison. Not good, huh?”

Mona looks severe. “Well, get hold of Madison and make sure it ends there. You know he’s still on campus, right? Her attacker--slash--online--harasser?”

“Yeah, Carrie’s pretty furious,” Haley says.

Mona rolls her eyes. She can tell from Mona’s reaction that she’s up to speed with what’s going on: no one has been able to link Jordan to the whiteboard or the online Board. Carole’s promise to “get to the bottom of this” has done nothing except reveal a bottomless pit of questions.

Mona opens a bag with an impatient snap. “Well, Carrie’s one of those no--red--tape types. She thinks all this stuff about hearings and evidence is bureaucratic nonsense and you need to protect victims regardless of little things like due process.”

“What do you think?”

“Me? I’m pre--law. I’m all about process. But here’s the thing: this is a private college. They can do whatever the hell they want. For example, that stuff on The Board? Out in the real world, that’s protected speech. Here in MacCallum Land, it’s a violation of community standards and they can have you gone in a heartbeat if they find out you did it. So I don’t know which of this rapist’s great grandfathers built the place, but they’re tiptoeing around the dude.”