Admission

by Travis Thrasher

  “I’m just—I’m afraid. I’m afraid of—of something—of building something that will eventually disappear.”

  “I just got here.”

  “Jake—I don’t get you. I mean—why haven’t you ever—”

  “What? Given up on you?”

  “I didn’t say that,” Alyssa said.

  “You fight for something you want. For something that you know is good for you. Even if it is a dream. A fairy tale.”

  “This isn’t a dream.”

  “I know. But the other night sure felt like one. And you want to know something else? The only thing that could have made it better would have been to have kissed you.”

  Alyssa was silent for a moment, allowing me to pull the car by the curb and get out.

  “I didn’t say you couldn’t,” Alyssa said.

  The sun was fading away, and the evening had a warm glow about it.

  “If I had a chance to do it again—”

  “I don’t know,” she said.

  “What if I were at your doorstep now, looking at you, asking you that same question? What would you do?”

  “I don’t know. We’ll never know.” She paused for a minute. “Jake—can you hold on? I’m sorry. Someone’s ringing the doorbell.”

  I could hear the rustle of the phone against her shirt. She opened the door and then stood for a moment, half-surprised, half-amused. She brought the cordless phone back to her ear.

  “I’m sorry, Jake. There’s some dark and mysterious man at my door who looks like he wants to take advantage of me.”

  I couldn’t help smiling. The orange haze of dusk made her radiant. “Does he look desperate?” I asked into my cell phone.

  “Completely. I need to call 911.”

  I snapped my phone shut and moved closer to her. “I’m not going to disappear anytime soon, okay?”

  My arms slipped around her as she looked down for a moment, unsure, shy. Then the dark eyes glanced at me with a look that said It’s okay. A look, and a welcoming smile.

  And I kissed sweet and gentle lips that I had kissed many times in my dreams since college, since 1994, since hearing her final good-bye and never knowing if I’d ever see this woman again.

  THIRTY-ONE

  March 1994

  “NO WAY.”

  Jake took a bite of the deep-dish pizza and nodded at a disbelieving Bruce. Four of them sat in a booth eating dinner at Gino’s Pizza ten minutes from their apartment.

  “There’s got to be someone we can go to,” Bruce said.

  “Who? The president? Oh, wait, that’s who I just saw.”

  “Unbelievable.”

  “Why unbelievable?” Alec said. “What’d you think the president was going to say?”

  “Not that,” Bruce said.

  “Of course that,” Alec said, talking through a mouth full of pizza. “Of course the president was going to side with his golden student. Did I not predict pretty much everything?”

  “The bit about Laila—you didn’t predict that.”

  “That girl is psycho. I told you that after the first party where you left with her,” Bruce said.

  “Girls like that are dangerous when they get rejected.” Carnie, quiet all night, finally spoke.

  They all looked at him, waiting to see if he would say more.

  “That’s your fault,” Jake said to Alec.

  “No way. I didn’t do anything.”

  “You sure helped.”

  Carnie and Bruce looked puzzled; they didn’t know about the Chicago excursion a couple months ago. Jake wished he’d never said yes to going downtown with Alec, to staying downtown at Laila’s friend’s apartment, to giving in to Laila.

  The only thing Jake really wanted to do was get drunk. Not just sorta drunk, but really, die-hard drunk. He wanted to escape this insanity, and there was only one way to do it. He drained his cup and filled it up again.

  “Only two more months of this hole,” he said, pounding beer.

  “Thank God,” Bruce said.

  “No need to thank Him,” Alec said. “He allowed this to happen.”

  No one responded.

  “Have another piece,” Jake urged Carnie.

  “I’m feeling sick,” Carnie said. His round, bearded face was downcast and serious.

  “Are you guys around spring break?” Alec asked. “’Cause I think we need to do something.”

  “Something like?” Bruce asked.

  “Something big.”

  “On campus?” Jake asked.

  “On Brian.”

  Jake looked at Alec and saw a sinister grin spread over his friend’s face. “What’s that mean?”

  “I don’t know. Wouldn’t it be nice to just … freak him out a bit?”

  “How?” Bruce asked, his voice muffled with pepperoni pizza.

  “I don’t know. Shane will have some ideas.”

  “We can’t get in any more trouble,” Carnie said.

  “Oh, come on, Carn. Live a little.”

  “I don’t want to get Jake kicked out.”

  “He won’t even be involved,” Alec said.

  “Says who?” Jake asked.

  “Says me,” Alec said. “You took one for the team when we stole the mascot.”

  “I didn’t realize we were a team.”

  “You bet we are.”

  “You the captain?” Jake smiled.

  “I’m the goalie,” Alec said.

  “That’s a first,” Bruce said.

  “There’s a first for everything. We need to show that to Brian.”

  Shane and Franklin showed up ten minutes later. Shane dived into the pizza while Franklin ordered a soda and listened to Jake recount his meeting with Bramson.

  Carnie cursed and shook his head.

  “For once I agree with you there,” Franklin said.

  Jake drained another beer and was feeling it now. “Whatever.”

  “No. It’s not whatever,” Franklin replied, his slicked-back hair stuck together by some unknown force.

  “Huh?”

  “You pay the same twenty grand to go to Providence that Brian pays,” Franklin continued. “The school has no right to treat you any differently.”

  “President Bramson implied that I was friends with the devil.”

  “Serious?” Shane asked, laughing.

  “Sure. Doing what I can to undermine the school.”

  “Of course you are,” Alec said.

  “The president is a weasel,” Franklin said.

  Alec told Shane and Franklin his idea of doing something to Brian during spring break.

  “The baseball team sticks around, don’t they? So we know he’ll be here.”

  “What are you going to do?” Carnie asked, his face red and empty.

  “What are we going to do?”

  “Oh, no. I’m not getting involved.”

  Alec nodded. “Our boy took one on his shoulders for all of us. We need to make things even.”

  “Things won’t be even unless we assault Brian,” Carnie said.

  “Assault means what?” Alec said, a sneer on his face.

  “Come on,” Jake said.

  “What? They’re saying he didn’t do anything to you. I’m looking at you and think differently. We should’ve found Brian that night and cracked his head with baseball bats. But we didn’t.”

  “Good thing,” Jake said.

  “No, it’s not good. That guy—if he goes off scot-free he’ll live his whole entire God-forsaken life knowing he can do whatever he wants and get away with it.”

  “That’s the way life works,” Franklin said without any emotion.

  “Yeah, but there’s also something about getting what you deserve.”

  “Reaping what you sow,” Jake said, remembering Alyssa’s words.

  Alec cursed in agreement. “That’s exactly what it is. If we don’t show Brian the way the world really works, he’ll never learn.”

  “So we’re like, educating him, huh?” Shane asked.


  “Exactly.”

  Jake chuckled and shook his head. “Look, guys—”

  “Come on, Jake. Nothing bad will happen.”

  “Then what will happen?”

  “That’s what we can decide here and now. Nothing big. No broken bones. No bloody face.”

  “Then what are you suggesting?” Carnie asked.

  They all looked at Alec and his dark eyes that held a hundred secrets. He lit up in a devilish grin and glanced at all of them.

  “I just want to scare the life out of Brian Erwin and make him regret the day he ever laid eyes on any of us.”

  THIRTY-TWO

  June 2005

  THE NIGHT FELT, simply put, normal. Alyssa had told me to stay if I wasn’t busy. If I wasn’t busy. I wasn’t going anywhere. Bruce had gone to see a concert with Mike downtown, and all I had in my grand plan was going back to the hotel room and watching TV—the same thing I was doing in Alyssa’s house.

  Well, maybe I would have watched something different. We ordered in a pizza and watched an episode of a reality television show.

  “So what’d you think?” she asked me as the end credits appeared.

  “I can’t believe stuff like this is so popular.”

  “It’s a study in human dynamics.”

  “Those people aren’t normal, are they?”

  Alyssa laughed. “No. But they’re fun to watch.”

  “I’d use the term ‘fun’ lightly. Interesting, maybe.”

  “Kyle used to say I was a reality TV junkie.” Alyssa’s smile quickly faded, and she looked at the glass in her hand. “Maybe it’s just better to watch other people’s misery than wallow in your own.”

  I slid closer to her on the plush couch and offered her a smile. “I was on a reality television show,” I admitted.

  “What? When?”

  “A couple years ago. You ever hear of the Eco Challenge?”

  She shook her head and I looked at her lips, ones I had kissed several hours ago. I wondered if I would kiss them again before the night was over.

  “It’s an outdoor race—sorta like Survivor meets a triathlon. It’s always in a remote place.”

  “Did you win?”

  I laughed. “There are teams of four. Some of my climbing buddies wanted to do it. One of them wasn’t in the best shape. He can climb, but this tests endurance. And sanity. We came in twenty-first.”

  “Out of how many teams?”

  “Over a hundred.”

  “That’s not bad.”

  “My parents taped the shows and everything.”

  “Wait—you were on TV?”

  I couldn’t help being amused. “I’m suddenly a different person to you, huh?”

  “Shut up.”

  “They showed it on USA channel. It’s more gritty than Survivor and The Apprentice.”

  “I would like to see those tapes.”

  “Sorry. I have the only remaining copy. I burned the rest.”

  “You’ve had such an exciting postcollege life.”

  “Not necessarily,” I said.

  “Compared to a lot of us. Exhibit A.” She pointed at herself.

  “This is a strange side of you.”

  “What side?”

  “The woe-is-me side.”

  Alyssa swatted at my arm. “That’s not nice.”

  “That’s not you.”

  “Sometimes I stand in front of the classroom and feel frightened. Isn’t that odd? After all this time, I sometimes question if I have any clue what I’m doing.”

  “We all do that at times,” I said.

  “What’s the most scared you’ve ever been?”

  I paused for a moment. A quick piercing snapshot blasted through my mind. the wet, white body—trying to drag it out—calling out his name

  “Jake? During your climbing expeditions. Have you ever been scared to death?”

  Another image came to mind. I thought of telling her about Ray but then realized now wasn’t the time. Getting into the details of the climbing partner I had left on the side of a mountain a year ago wouldn’t be good for the mood.

  “Honestly?” I tried to focus. “It wasn’t when I was climbing. I was rappelling in Georgia.”

  “Rappelling—like when you lower yourself down a mountain?”

  “Yeah. I was going down the place called the Fantastic Pit—the deepest free fall in the U.S. It’s like a giant train tunnel pointed at the center of the earth. You just keep dropping.”

  “Is it all dark?”

  “They have lights on it. But you just feel like you’re being swallowed by this huge hole. I was heading down and for a moment—just a split second—I thought my harness was about to snap. It just got caught up in a loop and jerked, but it scared the snot out of me. Funny thing is—I wouldn’t have even dropped that far, all things considered. Still, I would’ve probably broken my neck or worse.”

  “What about climbing some of those tall mountains?”

  “Sure. But it’s a rush too. There’s a reason I keep doing it. The same reason that people like you probably decide to go back and face a room full of kids every day. Even if deep down you’re slightly freaked out.”

  We looked at one another, our faces close together.

  “Do you want anything—?” Alyssa began.

  “Yeah.”

  “What?” she asked. She looked down, nervous.

  I took her hand and held it. “I want you not to be unhappy.”

  “You’re a little late for that.”

  “I know I am. And I’m sorry.”

  “It’s nothing you did,” Alyssa said. “Nothing you could have done.”

  “I’m sorry for being gone so long—for not even—I don’t know. For not even bothering to try to contact you.”

  “I’m sorry for making that so easy.”

  The sitcom on television was a little too loud, so I grabbed the remote and turned the television off.

  “We should stop apologizing so much to each other,” I said.

  “I know. It’s probably not very healthy.”

  “It’s not very fun either.”

  My cell phone rang, and I looked at the caller ID. “It’s a Chicago number.”

  “It might be Mike,” Alyssa said. She was right.

  “Jake—man, you gotta come downtown.”

  He sounded out of breath and frazzled. More than frazzled, in fact. He sounded frightened.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Bruce got shot.”

  “What?” I shouted out.

  “Bruce got shot tonight.”

  “Where? How—”

  “We saw Blue Merle at the Riviera—and we were coming out and walking to our car and someone came out of nowhere—like seriously out of the dark. They hit him over the head and then fired a shot in his gut while he was lying on the ground.”

  “Is he—”

  “He’s in intensive care. Cops are here and I was questioned and—” Mike cursed. “It’s major, man.”

  “Where are you?”

  “We’re at Loyola Hospital downtown. Know where that is?”

  “I’ll find out.”

  “I don’t even know how to go about contacting his parents.”

  “You might not want to,” I said.

  “The hospital is trying to get hold of them.”

  “Did you see the guy?”

  “Not really. It happened so fast. We were talking about cars or something stupid and laughing and I walked ahead and then heard a muffled sound and looked back and Bruce was on the ground.”

  I stood up. “Look—I’ll come on down now. Just—just let me know if you get any news, okay? Call me.”

  “Jake. There’s something else.”

  “What?”

  “The guy. The one who shot Bruce. He said to tell you to back off. To go back home.”

  “What?”

  “Yeah. He said, ‘Tell your buddy Jake to back off and go home or things will get worse.’ What’d he mean? What
’s this all about? Are you in trouble?”

  “No—look, just stay there, Mike. I’ll head out soon. We can talk when I get there.”

  I looked at Alyssa, who had been standing, listening to my side of the conversation, ready to take action.

  “When we get there,” she said.

  THIRTY-THREE

  March 1994

  THE COLD AND GRAY of the last week had evaporated into a beautiful blue spring day with temperatures in the high 60s. Unfortunately, good weather couldn’t compensate for an intense hangover. Jake had gotten bored with beer so he had tried wine, which seemed fine last night. But there was something different about wine. You didn’t want to overdo on the vino. Jake knew that now.

  After an easy hour of business marketing discussion with other seniors, Jake carried his backpack over his shoulder as he walked across campus. He felt as he always had while walking around school—like an imposter. While the president’s words had been harsh and cruel, they also were half true. Why was he here? Simply because his parents were paying his way? What a lame reason. But there was still no excuse for the president putting him in his place, making him feel guilty for doing nothing.

  As Jake walked toward the parking lot where his car waited, he saw a figure emerging from the dorm. A dark-haired girl in jeans and a yellow top. Even from far away, Jake could tell it was Alyssa. He quickened his pace. The jerking of his body made his head hurt, but that was okay. She was headed toward the cafeteria building, which was crowded now that it was lunchtime. Jake managed to get on the same sidewalk and walked up to her.

  “Hey,” he said to her in a casual greeting.

  “You’re not supposed to be here,” Alyssa told him.

  “News spreads fast.”

  “You forget where I work.”

  “You gonna turn me in?”

  “Only if I have to,” she said in a distant tone.

  “Going to lunch?”

  “It’s lunchtime.”

  “Any chance you’d want to go somewhere off campus?”

  “I pay to eat lunch on campus.”

  “Alyssa?”

  She looked at him and waited.

  “Can I talk with you?”

  “About what?”

  “About everything,” he said.

  “I don’t have much to say that I haven’t already said.” Her eyes refused to look into his, her lips tightened.