Wrecked

Uncle Bruce sits forward in his chair. His knees practically touch Richard’s. “You’re not involved. Except you are one of only two people my nephew confided in about having sexual intercourse with someone that night.”

“Listen, Jordan and I talked. I get that you don’t want me to go around blabbing what he said. I didn’t, and I won’t. As far as I’m concerned, the less I say and the less I know, the better.”

“That’s good, Richard. I just want to make sure you understand why this is so important.”

“I understand.”

“Jordan seems to think you were concerned that he wanted you to lie for him. I’m here to assure you that no one wants you to lie.”

“Like I told Jordan last night: I don’t blab. But I don’t lie. I’ll keep my mouth shut, but if someone puts me on the witness stand and asks me what I know, I’ll repeat what Jordan told me.”

“Then we have to ensure that you never make it to the so--called witness stand,” Uncle Bruce says.

Something about this doesn’t sound comforting. “Excuse me?”

“We think we’ve figured out how to keep you off the list of witnesses. You’d never have to testify about anything.”

“Oh? What’s that?”

“Against my advice,” Uncle Bruce explains, “Jordan is going to challenge this charge. Which is going to be a real shitshow. I don’t want to tell you how poorly prepared colleges are to deal with this sort of thing. Plagiarism, dorm damage, public drunkenness—easy enough. But it’s ridiculous to expect a kangaroo court of deans and dining services staff to adjudicate violent crime.

“But Jordan wants to fight. And according to the college handbook, both he and his accuser are entitled to have an advisor with them throughout the process. Hearings, interviews, anything related to the investigation, the student can have his or her advisor right there, on hand. Now, this advisor can’t be a parent, but it can be a lawyer, faculty member, or dean. Or friend. So we thought of you.”

Uncle Bruce has been blathering for so long that when he suddenly stops speaking, the room is eerily quiet. Which makes what he’s said feel even more like a gut punch.

“Me . . . What?” Richard asks.

“You for Jordan’s advisor.”

“Yeah, right,” Richard says without hesitation. “Give me a break.”

“I’m not joking.”

“Sure you are.” Richard stands. “This whole conversation’s a joke. What part of ‘I wasn’t there, I’m not involved’ do you not get?”

“Richard, please sit and hear me out.”

“I think we’re done.”

“All you’d have to do is attend a few meetings with Jordan.”

“I don’t have time to go to meetings with Jordan.”

“You’d just sit there.”

“I don’t have time to sit. I’m a busy guy.”

“Richard, this is a good solution for you. If you’re Jordan’s advisor, the investigator would probably never question you.”

“Why would he question me? I wasn’t there!”

“You never know.”

“And for the record: you all seem super worried about what I might say.”

“You bet I am. I’m trying to make sure orange jumpsuits don’t become a permanent fixture in my nephew’s wardrobe.”

It takes a second for his meaning to sink in, but when it does . . . Richard sits. Uncle Bruce runs one hand over his face, rubbing his eyes. He suddenly looks very tired.

“You think Jordan’s guilty.” The words slip past Richard’s lips unintentionally.

“No. But I do think he stands a very good chance of being expelled. In a court of law, you have to find someone guilty ‘beyond a reasonable doubt.’ At a college hearing? You’re guilty if ‘the preponderance of the evidence’ suggests it’s more likely than not that you did it. That’s a low bar. Guys like Jordan are getting thrown out every day. I’m sure some are guilty as hell. I’m also sure some are not.”

“Is that why you told him to withdraw?” Richard asks.

“If he withdraws, he starts fresh, with nothing on his record. If he’s kicked out for sexual assault, I can’t think of another school that’d take him.”

“Jordan says he didn’t do it, and if he withdraws he looks guilty.”

Uncle Bruce makes an impatient noise. “Listen, Richard, I’m going to be brutally honest with you. If he were my son, his room would be packed up and we’d be halfway down the highway by now. He thinks he has a chance of winning this, and since nobody ever says no to him, his parents are letting him try. Jordan is unfamiliar with consequences. He has no clue what’s waiting for him.

“So at this point, I just want to keep him out of jail. You see, we don’t know if this woman plans to go to the police and pursue criminal charges. Maybe she’s already started that process, maybe not. But she could, at any time. Even months from now. And if she did, all the testimony from the college hearing could be used against him in a criminal court.”

Uncle Bruce looks at him meaningfully. But Richard is slow to understand why any of this has anything to do with him.

“Richard,” he finally says, “she needs physical evidence or a confession to prove rape. Let’s not hand her a confession.”

It’s as if a light flicks on and he finally gets why Jordan’s uncle is here.

“Listen, Mr. Bockus—”

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