Wrecked(86)

He hears voices down the hall. People returning from the party. The house had been silent up to now. He briefly considers asking if they passed her, saw her, but decides against it. Decides against announcing that whatever girl he brought back to his room tonight has slipped out without telling him.

Jordan tosses the bottles on the floor, strips off his clothes, and climbs into bed. He’s asleep within minutes. A deep sleep, untroubled by the loud laughter and door--slamming of still--staggering housemates.

Dreamless sleep.

. . .





40





Richard


Against his better judgment, Richard agrees to meet her. He has trouble saying no to Haley.

“What’s the politically correct therapy--speak term? Oh, I know: ‘I don’t feel safe.’ But in this case, I mean literally,” he’d said. “Mona and the rest of her coven will be waiting for me right outside the door with a hanging noose.”

Haley didn’t laugh, which wasn’t reassuring. Made him think this had occurred to her as well.

“Just tell her what you told me,” she pleaded. “I think it would be good for her to hear.”

“Why would she ever want to speak with me?” he continued. “I’m the enemy.”

“Once she hears what you did, she’ll know you’re not.”

“Why can’t you tell her?”

“Because I think it would be good for you, too,” she said. “It’ll give you some closure.”

Closure. More therapy--speak. He feels like the entire campus is engulfed in it following the assembly. Not that it’s a bad thing, but with his tendency to accidentally stamp through the carefully laid minefields of politically correct language, it’s nerve--racking. He keeps expecting something to blow.

He’s nervous now, sitting in the Hard Math Café, waiting for Haley and Jenny. Gail told them this would be a good time, and she was right; the place is deserted. Partly because half the campus has already cleared out for Thanksgiving, partly because at two o’clock people are still running off fumes from the lunchtime caffeine.

As he waits, he gets a text. It’s a guy from the house, Colin. Wants to know how many, if any, people are staying through the break.

“Damned if I know,” Richard mutters to himself as he shoots Colin a response. But maybe, he thinks, given his new role, he’s supposed to know.

Exley had scarcely left campus before guys from Taylor approached Richard. They wanted him to take Exley’s spot as the house social chair.

He couldn’t have been more surprised.

“I’m not really the person to fill the Doctor’s shoes,” he said. “I can’t remember the last time I was at Wednesday night pool shots.”

“We’re thinking a new direction might be good,” Colin said. “Like maybe some coed events that aren’t ragers? Might be your thing. Now that you’ve gotten all domesticated, with a girlfriend and everything.”

“Right, we’ll do chick flick night and serve chardonnay and brie. I’m not that guy, either,” he said, laughing. But he said yes. What the hell. Maybe the college would lift the sanction on Taylor House if they could prove ten or more of them could congregate without getting hammered.

He sees Haley and Jenny enter. The first thing that goes through his mind is: mouse. She is little and brown--haired, like Haley described. Her thin frame seems almost childlike next to Haley’s athlete’s body.

She’s the girl guys tend to overlook. Who dresses in forgettable clothes. Listens instead of inserting herself. The chorus, the wallpaper, the background--music girl.

He can’t help it: in this moment, Jordan comes to mind. Their conversation over those pilfered Blue Moons. And Exley. Telling Jenny to bring friends to the party. This girl? Seriously? It makes him angry.

As they draw close, though, he notices her eyes. Pale gray and clear. Metallic. They meet his, unblinking. Richard stands.

“Hope you haven’t been waiting long,” Haley begins.

Richard leans toward her and brushes her cheek with his lips. “Not long,” he murmurs. He extends his hand toward Jenny. “Hi. I’m Richard.”

Her grip is firm. She holds on just long enough. “Jenny,” she answers.

They sit.

Haley begins to speak; she obviously feels responsible for this conversation. But Richard puts one hand over hers, stopping her. He knows how this needs to start.

“I want you to know,” he says to Jenny, “how sorry I am about everything that’s happened to you.” He doesn’t elaborate. He doesn’t want to, and he’s not sure he can. “I don’t pretend to fully know what that is. But Haley says it’s been awful for you, and I’m sorry about that.”

Jenny looks at him for what feels like a long time, but is probably only a few seconds.

“I didn’t really want to do this,” she finally says. “Sit here, across a table from one of Jordan’s friends. I’m not sure I get your motivation.”

Her directness startles him.

“Me neither,” he flash--answers. “Meet with you, that is. I’m here because Haley asked me to. No motivation beyond that.”

Jenny raises one eyebrow. Her mouth forms a closed, slight smile. “Really? Not trying to relieve a guilty conscience? Because if that’s what you’re after, I’m going to have to disappoint you.”