by Lea Coll
I heard murmuring in the background and then Dr. Howe said, “I’m sorry. I have to go. I’ll talk to her and let you know if she wants to get in touch.”
“Thank you so much Dr. Howe. I really appreciate it.”
She hung up and I pulled up the story I’d started last night. I wondered if Cindy would be willing to talk to me and give me her story. She seemed fairly confident and popular. Was there a reason Owen chose her? If what Dr. Howe said was true Owen chose vulnerable women he could manipulate.
“Stella.”
I jumped, I was so lost in thought. “Oh, Bob. Didn’t know you’d walked in.” A hand on my chest to slow my racing heart, I wondered how much he heard.
“How’s that college bet story coming?”
I needed to verify what Dr. Howe told me before I gave him too many details. “Oh, great. I have a few more people to interview today.”
“I want the draft on my desk today.”
This is what I’d been afraid of. “Oh, I’m not ready yet.” I still wanted to talk to Cindy who would probably be reluctant to talk. Then I was waiting to hear back from Dr. Howe. “I need a few more days.”
“What do you have so far?”
He leaned his shoulder against the wall of my cubicle.
“Well, speaking with students on campus it seems that this woman had a relationship with a professor and now she wants revenge.”
“That’s not new information. Is she sleeping with more than one professor? Now that would be interesting.”
That was the exact angle I wanted to avoid. “I have no evidence of that.”
“Speculation is everything in a story. I thought you knew that.”
I did, but not when the object of speculation was your boyfriend. “I do.”
“I want that story on my desk by the end of the day.”
“Okay.” That was not happening but I’d deal with it later. I waited until he’d walked back to his office and shut the door to panic. What was I going to do? I needed more time. Somehow I had to convince him of that. First, I needed to speak with Cindy. After our exchange the night before I had serious doubts she would.
I packed up my stuff, drove my car to campus and parked, so I could call around to other colleges Owen had worked at in privacy. After leaving messages on several voice mails, I looked up to find Sawyer striding toward me. I couldn’t stop the smile which spread over my face at the sight of him in suit pants and a blue button down shirt rolled up to expose his forearms. I opened the door and got out to greet him.
He stopped in front of me. “Good morning.” He held his hand out for me to grab as he pulled me up and into his arms. “You ran out last night. Is everything okay?”
“Oh yeah, work stress. You know how it is.” My breath caught as my eyes flew to his and I could feel my cheeks heat. Could he see right through me? “Is Cindy Young okay? I saw her stop by to see you last night.” I carefully searched his face for any sign of guilt or deception. The fact that I was the one keeping a secret was not lost on me. But I couldn’t stop myself from worrying.
“Yeah, the trainer thinks it’s a strained calf. A few days of rest are all she needs.”
I carefully studied his face but didn’t see anything akin to guilt or deception on his face. Just a coach talking about his player. “That’s good. Hopefully it won’t affect the team too much.” Should I tell him about the story now? If I wanted a mature trusting relationship with Sawyer, I needed to be honest with him. And if I could interview him about the bet and his interactions with students it would flesh out my story. “Listen, I wanted to—”
“Hey man.” Owen walked up to us then. “Are you ready for the meeting?”
“Yeah,” Sawyer answered. Then to me he said, “We have a departmental meeting this morning.”
“Good luck, if that’s what you say for these things.” There was my opportunity to tell him what was going on and I missed it. “Can we talk later?”
“Sure.” He leaned down to place a light kiss on my lips and then they were walking back toward the Gibson Center building. Touching my lips, I watched him walk away, hoping that wasn’t the last time his lips would be on mine.
There were only two sororities on campus, so I pulled up the map and headed for Cindy Young’s sorority, Zeta Tau Alpha. Its site indicated it was a national sorority which promoted friendship, leadership, learning and apparently, bets to sleep with professors. On the way over I scrolled through their social media feed seeing the positive messages from pledges who said they were initially scared to pledge but happy to be part of the sorority now. Finding their website, it was more of the same. Pictures of women dressed similarly, smiling, and happy, which belied the more sinister things I’d discovered about its members this week.
Hoping Cindy was home, I rang the doorbell. A young woman answered with dark hair pulled in a ponytail. “Oh, hi!” She said when she pulled open the heavy wooden door for me. “Can I help you?”
“I’m here to talk to Cindy Young.”
“Oh, let me get her.” She opened the door wider and gestured for me to take a seat in their living room. “Have a seat.”
Smiling I sat on the antique velvet chair facing a fireplace with a large photograph of the current Zeta members standing in similar pink dresses.
“What are you doing here?” Cindy asked, standing with her arms crossed over a black Zeta T-shirt.
Remembering how she’d reacted last night when I challenged her, I needed to talk to her from a place of friends not enemies. “I wanted to talk to you about the bet.”
“There’s no bet. I already told you.” Irritated, she turned as if to leave, already done with this conversation.
“Look, have a seat. I’m not really interested in the bet.” She paused with her back to me. “I’m interested in Owen Mason and how he treats his female students.”
Cautiously, she turned to face me, her arms lowered to her sides, her face softened. “What do you mean?”
I breathed a sigh of relief. Hopefully, she’d talk now. “Have a seat.”
She slowly lowered herself into a tall wingback chair by the doorway.
“I talked to a professor at his old school. Apparently, he picks vulnerable students to pursue, makes empty promises of a future, and then dumps them. All while keeping his playboy persona amongst the other professors. Eventually, the school finds out about it and fires him, but he’s always able to move to the next school and start over again.”
Her confused eyes met mine. “I’m not the only one?” she asked softly.
I felt for her. She was young and naïve. Not unlike me when my college boyfriends cheated on me. “No. I haven’t heard back from the other schools yet, but I suspect he’s done this at every school. I’d like to write an article focused on how he’s allowed to continue doing this at new schools.”
She rubbed her arms as if she was chilled. “He definitely pursued me. He made me feel special.” She shook her head laughing. “You know, my dad was never around. Is that why it was so easy for him? Did he seek me out?”
“It sounds like he does pick certain girls. I’m sorry he hurt you.” Cindy was a young woman acting out because she’d trusted someone and he’d hurt her. I shivered from the parallels between us. Both of us from messed-up families, trusting easily, and then getting burned. I wondered if she’d turn out like me—reluctant to trust anyone.
She nodded. “I was so stupid. And the bet was stupid. I was angry. I wanted him to hurt like I did. I wanted to get him fired. It sounds so stupid admitting it out loud.”
“No. You were angry and hurt. I get it.” She definitely went about it the wrong way, but this was why professors shouldn’t be sleeping with students. She’s an adult, but barely. She was no match for Owen.
“I won’t use your name in the article but can I print what happened?” When she didn’t answer, I continued. “I’m still trying to get the woman’s name he did this to at his last school. Maybe you could convince her to talk when I do? I w
ant to stop him from doing this to someone else.”
“If my name isn’t mentioned, I’d like to help.” She was quiet for a minute, her expression open and vulnerable. “This is so not me. I joined a sorority for friendship, a group, a family. Not to tear other people down.”
“It’s okay. I understand.” We talked more about how they met, what Owen said to her to win her over. He told me he was all about one night stands but it was clear from talking to Cindy, that he’d pursued her, made her think she was in a relationship, and then dropped her. “What I don’t understand is why he does this?”
“I don’t know. I thought we had a real relationship, but then he broke up with me so callously. Said he didn’t believe in relationships. It was so confusing, because everything he’d said and done up until that point made me think it was the real deal.”
I nodded. I hadn’t been in the exact situation but I knew what it was like to be blindsided by a guy. To think everything was fine and to have the rug pulled out from under you. “There will be other guys. You’ll recover from this and it will be a learning experience. The best thing to come out of this is to stop Owen Mason from taking advantage of other students.”
“Right.”
For the first time since I’d met Cindy she seemed hopeful. I’d given her a purpose—something better than a bet to sleep with the professors. I didn’t ask her if she had slept with Sawyer or anyone else. I wanted to think she was misguided. That she never intended to sleep with Sawyer, but as always, doubt circled my mind. Right then, I needed her trust. Asking her if she slept with another professor wouldn’t help.
Saying good-bye and promising to keep her advised of my investigation into Owen’s past, I left, checking my phone. There was a message from Dr. Howe, which I listened to walking down the steps of the sorority and across campus to my car. “Stella, the woman agreed to speak with you as long as her name is withheld or changed. If that’s acceptable, you can call me back for her information. Thank you for doing this. I really hope this will stop him from doing this at another school.”
I breathed a sigh of relief as I disconnected and immediately dialed her number to get this woman’s information. Bob wanted this article by the end of the day so I didn’t have any time to waste.
After thanking Dr. Howe for the student’s information, I slipped into my car and immediately called her. “Kendall?”
“Who is this?” she asked, sounding so young over the phone.
“This is Stella Lewis, the reporter from the Kent County Times and the advisor to the student paper at Washington College.” I figured it would be less intimating if I mentioned the student paper doing the article. “Dr. Howe gave me your number?”
She sighed. “Right. I didn’t expect you to call so soon.”
“I’m sure you’re reluctant to get involved, but another woman was affected here at Washington College. She wants to stop Dr. Mason from doing this at a different school.”
“I would too,” Kendall said quietly.
I felt my whole body relax. Everything was falling into place. “In order to do that I’m going to print an article describing what he did to you, the woman at Washington, and how these schools fire him but move him along to the next school to do this to someone else. There’s a reason schools have no-fraternization policies between professors and students. Professors are in a position of power. These kinds of relationships ruin the teacher-student dynamic and hurt women at a vulnerable time in their lives.” When they’re just starting out. I tried not to draw the same parallel to my life, but it was tough not to.
“I’d like to help.”
“Can you tell me what happened between you and Dr. Mason?”
She went on to tell a similar tale to Cindy Young’s, except in her case she was raised by her grandparents. Her mom couldn’t care for her. Essentially, Owen sought out women who’d been abandoned by parents and were easily won over. But why? “Do you know why Dr. Mason does this? Did he tell you anything about his history?”
She laughed. “No. I have no idea. It’s one thing to be upfront and say you’re just in it for a good time, but he makes it seem like it’s a relationship, that he wants to get married. He’s an asshole? I don’t know. Look, I want to help but I also want to move on.”
“I get it.” My window for getting information from her had closed. She only wanted to help so much but I was still grateful for the information she gave me. “Before we get off the phone let me give you the woman’s information here so you can talk if you want. No pressure.”
“Sure, I’d like that.”
After I’d recited Cindy’s information, I thanked her, and got off the phone. I wanted to find a third case from the first school Owen had worked at to show a pattern of behavior, but no one returned my calls.
All of a sudden, my phone started buzzing with online notifications. Pulling up the app, I saw that it was in response to the Kent County News page, but it wasn’t my most recent post. Someone had posted a poll: Would you sleep with your professor because a) it’s forbidden, b) it’s fun to keep a relationship a secret, or c) in exchange for better grades. My stomach dropped and my heart was racing. Who’d done this? It certainly wasn’t me. I’d only drafted notes on a possible post and I hadn’t framed it as a poll like this one was. Normally, I was the only one who used this account but technically the password was available to anyone. So who would have done this? It had to be Bob. He was the one pressuring me.
Hurrying back to the office and parking my car, I burst through the front door, and headed straight for his office. I was so angry I was shaking and I had no idea what I was going to say to him. When I reached his doorway, he was on the phone. I crossed my arms over my chest and bit my lip as I waited. I couldn’t go off on him because he was still my boss. I needed this job.
When he got off the phone, he raised his eyebrows at me. “Do you need something?”
“Did you post on the paper’s social media page?” I asked, trying to rein in my anger.
“Yeah, aren’t you always saying that we need to be more active? I saw that you had drafted something and I liked it so I posted it. It goes well with the accompanying article too.”
My stomach dropped. Had he read my notes which were on the network? “What accompanying article?”
“You know, the one on the bet. I took the liberty of interviewing students to see which professors were targeted. Looks like it was the history department.”
I took a step into his office unable to keep my panic out of my voice, “You’re not printing names, are you? Because we have no proof.” If he did, Sawyer’s job was on the line, not to mention our relationship.
“No, but I don’t see why we can’t name the department. I don’t know why you’re so upset about it. I used your name, so you’ll get the credit.”
That was the last thing I wanted. I tried to take a few breaths to calm myself. “I don’t think that’s the big story here. I’m working on something bigger than that.”
“What could be bigger than girls betting to sleep with their professors? I told you these kind of stories generate interest and it’s like the opposite of the Me Too movement. It’s perfect.”
“No it’s not. It was a bunch of stupid kids talking. We have no evidence that anything happened.” I still held out hope that was true. “The bigger story is that the professor who’s involved sleeps with his students at every university, is fired, and then re-hired with a clean slate to do it all over again.”
“Stella, no one cares about that. I’m sure professors sleep with their students all the time. The fact that its young women targeting the teachers is the angle that will get picked up. You should be happy. Your name is on the article. You wrote it.”
My heart sank because he was referring to the notes I’d dictated on the original bet idea. I saved it to the network like I always do. He had access to it. “That wasn’t my story. That was just my notes.”
“It was great, Stella. You should be proud. It’s ex
actly what I was looking for. Don’t waste your time investigating the professor. You should be checking into the background of these sorority girls. Have they made other false claims in their past, do they sleep around? Have they targeted the football team? The baseball team?”
There was no way in hell I was doing that. I would not attack the women who I saw as victims in this case. But that’s what the media did—it attacked the victims. It made for a better story. I didn’t agree with him but he was my boss. It was his decision what to print, not mine. “When is it being published?” Maybe there was still time to get it pulled or at least get my name off the byline.
“It will be in the morning paper. Want to see it?” He waved the printed article at me and I grabbed it.
“Can you change the byline to your name? It’s your article, after all.”
“I don’t know why you’d want to do that. It’s your investigation and work.”
I skimmed his article quickly and when I’d finished, I said, “These are not my words. Please take my name off of it.” Then I ran out of his office, the article clutched in my hand. I had to talk to Sawyer before someone else did. Even if my name was removed, the damage had already been done.
When I reached the sidewalk I almost ran into Ashley. “Hey!”
“Did you post that poll online?” she asked.
If Ashley had already seen it, had our other friends seen it? Had Sawyer? “No. Bob did.”
“There’s a link to the post which takes you to an article about the bet.”
I was so intent on getting to Sawyer what she said almost didn’t register. “Wait, what?” I hadn’t seen that.
“Yeah, look.” She scrolled through her feed until she found it and held it up for me.
“Oh, shit.” Even if Bob took my name off the printed article, my name was on this one. The one that would get re-posted and shared.
“Have you talked to Sawyer yet?”
“No.”
“Then why did you write it?”