Wrecked

“But what difference does it make who did it?” Jenny moaned, suddenly tearful again. “Just the fact that someone—”

“Of course it makes a difference! When we report this, we’ll tell them what Eric saw. Jordan’s not supposed to be anywhere near you, right? Not even in the same dining hall? If Eric saw him in our building, looking for our room, they will definitely make him leave. You’ll feel safer then.”

Jenny’s expression was anything but reassured. “Report this?”

“Right now. I’ll go with you to Carole.”

“I don’t want to report this.”

Haley was silent. Jenny’s words could have been a door slamming. Within an inch of her nose.

“If I make a big deal about this, it’ll just get worse,” Jenny said. “I can’t let him know he upset me. That’s what he wants! He’ll just do it again.”

“Jen,” Haley said. “You have to report this.”

“No! I don’t have to. I don’t have to do anything I don’t want to, Haley.”

“Well, yeah, you do. You reported somebody for rape, and so now you have to follow through. You can’t pick and choose what you tell them, Jen. If he’s still bothering you, you have to report it.”

“Don’t bully me!”

Where had Haley heard Jenny say that before?

Then she remembered: on the phone. With her parents. Her father, specifically. Who can’t decide whether he’s more furious with MacCallum for not expelling Jordan on the spot or with Jenny for choosing Haley as her advisor. He’d been insisting she needed a lawyer instead.

When she first heard about his objections to her, Haley had felt a little insulted. Did Mr. James think she was some jerk who wouldn’t look out for his daughter? But as this thing has gone on, she’d begun to suspect the man had a point.

Haley was in over her head. And Jenny was complicated.

“I’m not bullying you,” Haley replied. “I’m trying to help! You texted me, remember?”

“Then be a friend and please respect what I want. And I don’t want to report this!”

“Fine.” Haley stood. She was through. “Then I hope you’ll respect my need to get to class. I’ve already missed too many.” She grabbed her pack and marched out, slamming the door behind her for effect.

All this happened, what, five hours ago? But it feels like days. Her still--bruised brain, struggling simply to keep up with her reading assignments, feels overwhelmed by Jenny’s problems.

As Haley sits at the now--empty table, Richard’s still--full mug in front of her, she plucks a brown paper napkin from the dispenser between the salt and pepper shakers and blows her nose. Maybe it’s for the best. The two of them were doomed anyway. Not only is it a matter of time before Carrie sees them, but the coincidences here are too much. He’s Jenny’s rapist’s housemate. She’s Jordan’s accuser’s roommate. Just breathing together in the same room is probably some code of conduct violation.

Definitely for the best.

So why does she feel so bad?

She pushes back her chair with a loud scrape . . . and startles when someone slips into Richard’s just--vacated seat.

The someone wears a café apron. One of the work--study students who bakes and serves coffee.

“What’s your hurry?” Gail says to her.





. . .


Exley makes sure they all have drinks. Then he watches.

Tamra with the smudgy eyes and her friend Marliese. They drain their cups and elbow their way to the center of the room. Laughing, arms over their heads, hips in a slow, suggestive swivel, they dance together.

Marliese is pretty. A good dancer. She smiles as if she’s having so much fun.

Tamra knows he’s watching. She knows without looking his way. She dances and she laughs because he’s watching.

. . .





20





Richard


Anger is like caffeine. It fuels you.

And right now Richard rides a four--pack--of--Red--Bull buzz.

His mind flies over the possibilities, a heat--seeking drone on a quest. Library? Class? Dining hall? But, of course, he tracks Jordan down at the house. He’s in the Taylor common room.

He’s not alone. He sits on the couch next to Exley. The two of them, heads close together, laugh at something on Exley’s phone. They glance up quickly when he enters.

“Hey,” Jordan says, smile at the ready. “Just the man I was hoping to see.”

“That so?” Richard says. “And I thought I was looking for you.” Something in his tone melts the smile right off Jordan’s face. “We need to talk. Alone.” He aims the last word in Exley’s direction. The Doctor rises, slipping the phone into his back pocket.

“Great seeing you, too, man,” he says, slapping Richard on the arm as he passes out of the room. A little too hard. Richard chooses to ignore it. “Have fun,” Exley says. Is it his imagination, or does he wink at Jordan when he says that? Such an asshole. Richard waits to hear his retreating steps down the hall before he begins.

He doesn’t sit.

“Tell me,” Richard says quietly, “you did not go to that girl’s room this morning.”

To his credit, Jordan looks genuinely puzzled. “What girl?”

“Jenny.”

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