Wrecked(55)

“I know,” Joe says earnestly. “But I’m asking as a friend. It’ll stay between you and me.”

Richard stands. “Anything you want to know, go to Jordan.”

“I did,” Joe says. “He won’t talk. But somebody said you’re, like, his student rep who goes to all the meetings with him.”

“Not anymore,” Richard says shortly.

Fired. That’s how he described to Haley the pyrotechnics that erupted when Jordan and Uncle Bruce finally caught up with him. She hadn’t asked for details, and he was happy to not relive them.

“That’s it?” Jordan had exclaimed after he’d described his conversation with Dean Hunt. “You were in there for an hour discussing your love life?”

“I think he was trying to figure out who said what to who,” Richard explained. “Especially when he realized I know Haley.”

Jordan threw himself back in his chair. “Freakin’ math girl is Jenny’s roommate! You never mentioned this why?”

“You never asked,” Richard said, leveling his gaze at him. “And I only answer direct questions.”

Jordan fired a can--you--believe--this look at his uncle. Who ignored him.

“How did it come up?” Uncle Bruce asked quietly.

“I mentioned that Jenny hadn’t called the hotline until a few days after the party. He wanted to know how I knew that, and . . . it was Haley. She told me.”

“How many days after the party?” Uncle Bruce asked.

“I have no idea.”

“Think, Richard. Is there anything Haley said, any little offhand comment, that gives you a sense of how much time might have passed?” Richard didn’t like how the conversation veered from what he had discussed with the investigator to what he had discussed with Haley.

“I don’t know.”

Uncle Bruce began pacing around the room. Like he was thinking. Then, he stopped.

“There’s no rape kit,” he finally declared. To no one in particular, or to both of them, Richard couldn’t tell. “Evidence disappears after seventy--two hours, and she delayed. Jordan wasn’t notified for more than a week. There’s no rape kit. They’ve got nothing!” The guy looked like he was going to break out in a dance.

Uncle Bruce returned to his seat in front of Richard. He pulled his chair close. “What did he ask you about the night of the party?”

“Nothing. I told him I was with Carrie and he moved on.”

“Did he ask you about Jordan and Jenny?”

“It never came up.”

“Did you tell him Jordan told you that he’d had sex with Jenny?”

“No. He never asked. He was more interested in the online bullying stuff. Which, by the way, I never heard of until I was sitting there. Thanks for that heads--up.” He directed the last comment at Jordan.

Uncle Bruce nodded a couple of times, got up, started pacing again. “This is good. This is really, really good,” he said. “And you haven’t repeated it to anyone else.” Not a question, really. More like a statement.

But Richard decided to treat it like a question. “I, uh, did say it to Haley.”

The pacing stopped. Uncle Bruce and Jordan stared at him.

“Yeah,” Richard said nervously. “That same day, when she told me Jenny hadn’t called right away? I told her Jordan described the whole thing as a hookup.”

Stunned silence. Then, Jordan.

“You *,” he breathed. “You stupid *!” He looked like he was going to strangle Richard.

Uncle Bruce put up a hand. “When was this?” he asked calmly. The more intense his question, the quieter his voice seemed to get.

“The day we picked apples.”

“When was that?”

“What the hell difference does it make?” Jordan demanded. “He told Jenny’s roommate that I said we hooked up! I’m freakin’ toast!”

Uncle Bruce, his expression placid, held up one hand toward Jordan. “Not necessarily. It’s only a problem if Haley tells the investigator Richard repeated it coming from you.” It took Richard a second to sort out what that meant. “In a real trial, it’s hearsay and wouldn’t be considered. But a hearing like this? Anything goes. We have to hope she doesn’t say that. If asked.”

Silence in the room.

“Do you think you could suggest to Haley that she not repeat your private conversation to the investigator?” Uncle Bruce asked. Matter--of--factly. Like it was no big deal.

Richard stood. “You people are unbelievable,” he said. “You know what? No. Go to hell. I’m done.” He grabbed his backpack from the floor and began his march to the door.

Jordan looked wildly at his uncle. “You can’t just walk out! He can’t do that!”

Uncle Bruce shrugged. “Sure he can,” he said. “The question is why. Before you leave, Richard.” Hand on knob, Richard turned. “What’s the problem?”

The range of answers was so vast, he didn’t know where to begin. He decided to go with the biggest thing that was bothering him.

“The problem,” Richard said, “is that you think I’m the sort of guy who would even ask her to do that. Not that she would. Makes me wonder: how far have I sunk?” He felt disgusted. Mostly with himself. He should never have agreed to get involved with these people.