You Can't Catch Me(43)
“Hey.”
“Where are you?”
“In Philly.”
“You met JJ?”
“Yeah.”
“And?”
Liam’s voice in my ear is both soothing and, to be frank, stimulating. I turn on my side and press my hand between my legs.
“Jessica Two stole her money.”
“How?”
I tell him what JJ said as I press my palm into myself. My breathing is slightly accelerated. This is wrong, to be using Liam this way, but God it feels good.
“What are you doing?” Liam asks.
“Nothing.” I pull my hand away and rest it on the outside of the covers. The blanket is old and torn in the corner, and God knows what’s occurred under it. “Talking to you.”
“You sound out of breath.”
“Must be the connection.”
“Mmm.”
I’m blushing, happy Liam can’t see me. “So, what do you think? What should we do next?”
“I think you should come home.”
“Just give up?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Have you checked Facebook or Twitter today?”
“No, I’ve been busy.”
“You should.”
“Why? And how do you know what’s happening on Facebook or Twitter?”
He coughs. “Miller told me.”
“Miller told you what?”
“There’s another story out. About you.”
I’m fully awake now, all thoughts of fantasy cast off.
“What about me?”
“Did you . . .” Liam’s hesitation does not make me feel better.
“Out with it.”
“Did you plagiarize your thesis?”
I sit up. “What? No.”
“Are you sure?”
“Of course I’m sure.”
I slaved over that final paper for months, barely getting it in on time. I was proud of it.
“Well, then, how do you explain it?”
“What is it, exactly?”
My phone buzzes in my hand.
“I sent you a link. Take a look.”
I pull the phone away from my ear and put it on speaker while I check out the link. It’s to a piece written by my old nemesis at FeedNews, James, who seems to be back, and in my job.
FeedNews can exclusively reveal that our former reporter, Jessica Williams, has a long history of plagiarism. We’ve obtained a copy of her senior thesis from Columbia. As you can see from the comparisons below, large passages of the document are copied from various other sources without attribution . . .
“Jess?”
“Yeah?”
“You okay?”
“Not sure.”
“Take me off speaker,” Liam says.
I comply and put the phone back up to my ear. My heart is skipping.
“You didn’t plagiarize?” Liam asks.
“No. I swear to you.”
“Is this just James getting back at you?”
“No, it’s . . . She did the same thing to JJ.”
I tell him about the tweet, the aftermath, and Jessica Two’s warnings to JJ.
“You should come home,” Liam says again firmly when I finish.
“I will soon.”
“Tomorrow.”
“Jeez, yes, Dad.”
He clears his throat in a way that lets me know I’ve gone too far.
“She hasn’t reached out to you, has she?” he asks after a moment.
“No,” I lie. If I tell Liam I’ve been communicating with her, he’ll be on the next plane to Philly, and I need to do this part on my own.
I can hear Liam fretting through the line. Pacing back and forth in his loft in the Meatpacking District that he bought a zillion years ago when the early-morning streets were stained with blood, not booze.
“Jess.”
“What?”
“I’m worried about you.”
“I know. But I’ll be okay.”
“Will you?”
“I’ve made it this far, haven’t I?”
“That’s true.”
“So, give me some credit.”
“I give you a lot.”
I close my eyes. I wish it could always be like this. That there didn’t need to be crises and lies to bring us together.
“Tell me more.”
He laughs gently. “Good night, Jessica.”
“Good night, Liam.”
“I’ll see you soon?”
“Yes.”
“Good,” he says, then hangs up.
I rest the phone on my chest and think about all the things that Jessica Two has done. She doesn’t fuck around. But that’s okay.
I don’t either.
Chapter 19
Planning Committee
After Todd’s funeral, the sun came out, like God approved of what we’d done. Kiki and I left the woods and the others behind and sat on the dock and caught up on what we’d missed in each other’s lives. I had more to tell, as I’d been out in the world, getting an education, living on my own. She’d been trapped in the Land of Todd, where nothing changed, but everything had, I learned, after I escaped.