by Sarina Bowen
In spite of the water I’d been gulping, my throat went dry. “The next thing I remember is waking up on the wood floor.” The sensations clobbered me all over again. Freezing. Stiff. Confused. My missing sweater. Awful words written all over my skin.
Weirdly, there were tears dripping down my face, and I’d barely even noticed them. It was all too vivid. I was gripping the armrests of the wingback chair, terrified at the idea that I’d been so defenseless in that house.
They’d put me on the floor, and covered my body with taunts while I was unconscious.
Then they’d left me there, like garbage.
“Bella?”
I looked up to see the assistant offering me a box of tissues.
“Th…thanks,” I stammered, grabbing it.
“I’m sorry that happened to you,” she said, her voice soft.
“Yeah. It, um…” I was reaching the end of my ability to speak. I felt almost as wiped out as I had that morning, when my limbs wouldn’t do as I’d asked.
“You’re almost through it,” the dean said, her voice calm. “Tell us what happened when you left. How did you feel when you left? Physically, I mean.”
Now that I was allowed to leave the frat house behind, I started to feel a little better. “I… Weird, I guess. Heavy. Clumsy. I fell down on the sidewalk.”
She scribbled furiously on her notepad. “Did anyone witness this?”
Hoo boy. “Yes. One person walked me home.”
Her eyebrows lifted. “Who?”
A few minutes later, I was drinking another glass of ice water while the dean’s assistant tracked down one Rafael Santiago. And ten minutes after that, I heard my boyfriend’s voice in the lobby. “What is this about?”
“Can we please be done now?” I asked the dean.
“Yes — for now. But I may need you again for follow-up questions.”
“Any time,” I offered. I would have promised her my firstborn to get out of that room.
In the outer office, Rafe stood by a window, drumming a pencil against his leg. I’d never been so happy to see anyone in my life.
When he got a look at my face, he crossed the room in three paces. “What’s the matter?” He pulled me to his chest without giving me a chance to answer. “Did something happen?”
“Bella,” the dean said behind me. “Please don’t answer. His testimony has to be unbiased.”
“My testimony?” His voice rose dangerously. “Forget that. Tell me who made her cry. Bella never cries.”
This used to be true. “I’m fine,” I said from the comfort of his sweater. “They were just asking me—”
“Bella!” the dean interrupted.
I pushed back to look up into Rafe’s eyes. “Nothing happened to me today,” I tried. “This is old news.”
His shoulders relaxed. “Oh.”
“Mr. Santiago, if you would please step into my office.”
“I will do that as soon as my girlfriend does not look so freaked out.” He led me over to a chair.
“I’m okay,” I promised, blinking away my latest batch of tears. “I promise. The sooner you talk to her, the sooner we can go home.”
He was still frowning, and I loved that frown. I didn’t think I was the sort of girl who wanted a knight in shining armor. But apparently the occasional display of chivalry was pretty fucking sexy. Who knew?
“Don’t go anywhere,” he ordered me in his bossiest tone.
I gave him a salute. He kissed me on the top of my head and went into the dean’s office.
Thirty-Three
Bella
After my painful interview with Whomping Wilma, things calmed down again.
For the second time in ten days, Beta Rho made the front page of the Harkness newspaper. According to the latest article, an unnamed football player had made allegations against his own fraternity, and the college had launched an investigation. No further details were given due to the ongoing investigation.
My name was nowhere in the article, either. I read it three times to make sure.
And anyway, there were other things to worry about. Our Urban Studies project was finally due the next day.
So, on a Wednesday night during the first week of December, Rafe and I were putting the finishing touches on our half of the presentation. He sat in my desk chair, and I lay on the bed.
I got the distinct impression he was keeping his distance on purpose, and it made me want to test his will power. I said something really subtle to test the waters. “So, baby, if you just turned that chair a few degrees, I could blow you while you check that spreadsheet.”
He dropped his face into one hand. “Bella. Maybe we should go to the library. Because this is due tomorrow.”
“We can go to the library if you want. I can blow you there, instead. All I’d have to do is crawl underneath one of those study carrels…”
“Nooooo,” he groaned. “The library is where I used to go to keep my mind on the books. There goes that.”
“Not my problem.” I stood and put my hands over his strong shoulder muscles, squeezing firmly. “How much more time do you think it needs, anyway? I could leave you alone if you give me some parameters.”
He dropped his head back against my belly and looked up. “You know I don’t really want you to leave me alone.”
I kissed his forehead. “I get that. But after we win this thing, we are going to celebrate. We’ll have champagne and do it on every piece of furniture in this room.”
His forehead crinkled. “There are only two pieces of furniture. Or three, if you count the desk.”
I dropped down to put my mouth beside his ear. “I want you to bend me over the desk.”
Rafe gave a little grunt of longing.
“And don’t forget to count the floor, all the walls and perhaps the ceiling.”
He began to shake with laughter.
There was a knock on my door. “Bella?” It was Graham’s voice.
This was a surprise. I crossed to the door and opened it. “Hey! What’s up?”
He stepped into the room, giving Rafe a wave. “Hey, man.” He leaned in and kissed my cheek. “Bella, I’ve come to take you to Capri’s, and I won’t take no for an answer.”
Rafe looked up from his spreadsheet, and I knew I couldn’t bail on our project. For once I felt an honest-to-God twinge of disappointment. A few beers with the hockey team sounded awesome right now. Which either meant I was finally feeling better, or just really sick of studying. Or both.
“I’m so sorry,” I said. “We have a presentation due tomorrow.”
“I’ll finish up,” Rafe volunteered. “You go.”
But that wouldn’t be right. “Not fair.” I sighed. “I haven’t been, um, easy to work with this week.”
I saw him bite his lip and lock his eyes on the screen. He was charmingly discreet.
Graham cleared his throat. “Look, Bells. Even if it’s for only half an hour. It’s time to stop ducking us.”
Aw. I threw myself at Graham’s chest and hugged him. “I love you, and I love what you’re trying to do. And I promise I’ll come out soon. But it’s not a good time.”
“Just come for thirty minutes,” he pressed.
“No.” I gave him a little shove toward the door. “Soon.”
Graham gave me an odd smile. “Soon.” He walked out.
“You could go, you know,” Rafe said.
“Let’s just finish up,” I said. “No funny business. Scout’s honor.”
“You were a girl scout?”
“Nope!”
He laughed.
There was another knock on the door.
“Oh, for God’s sake,” I said. “Graham…” I opened the door. But it wasn’t Graham standing there, it was his boyfriend Rikker. “Hi. Fancy meeting you here.”
Rikker grinned. “Bella, please come to Capri’s.”
“Okay, you are both adorable. And if you want, I’ll get out my calendar and we’ll choose a date to go out. But ton
ight isn’t good.”
“I think it is,” Rikker said, grinning like a maniac.
“Um, that’s nice. But no. Soon, okay?”
“Okay!” Chuckling, he walked out.
When the door closed, Rafe and I looked at each other. “Was that just a little weird?”
The bathroom door opened. “Who keeps knocking?” Lianne wanted to know.
“You know,” Rafe said, snapping the laptop shut. “I think Dios is trying to say that we’ll finish this tomorrow morning.”
Someone knocked on the door. Again.
“Don’t…” I said.
But Lianne opened it. And Trevi stood smiling on the other side. “Evening Bella. And friends. I came to invite you to Capri’s.”
Rafe started laughing. “Bella, I think they’re trying to tell you something.”
“Bella!” another voice echoed in the stairwell. Then several voices began to chant my name. “Bella! Bella! Bella!”
“Oh my God,” Lianne said. She went to the door, peeking around Trevi. I didn’t have to follow her to know what she saw. Because I knew those voices.
The entire hockey team was in the stairwell, calling my name.
“Oh, crap,” I said. I had to press my fingertips against my tear ducts because they suddenly threatened to leak.
“Come on,” Trevi pressed. “Where’s your jacket? We’re not going to take no for an answer.”
“It’s right here,” Rafe said, standing up to grab my hockey jacket out of the closet. He draped it over my shoulders. “Go already. It’s only eight o’clock.”
Getting ahold of myself, I grabbed Rafe’s elbow. “You’re coming, too.”
“I am?”
“Yep. And so is Lianne.”
“I really don’t think so,” my neighbor argued, breaking for the bathroom door.
I caught her by the tiny waist. “You are getting out of here for an hour, okay? If it’s good for me, it’s good for you.”
“Bella! Bella! Bella!” was still coming from the stairwell.
I went out onto the landing, where more than a dozen of my friends, in matching jackets, smiled up at me. Tears threatened again. “I’m coming! Jeez! Sixty seconds!”
Swallowing hard, I went back into my room and clicked off the lamp. “Let’s go, guys. Now.”
Lianne shook her head, even as I went past her to get her coat from her room. Returning, I pushed it into her arms. “I’m not trying to drag you to a frat party, okay? It’s a pizza joint. For an hour. You’ll live.”
“Can I at least get my hat?”
“You have fifteen seconds,” I said.
Not ten minutes later, I was standing in Capri’s, where the scent of stale beer and pizza grease was as welcoming as anything I’d ever smelled. It was Monday night, which meant the place was uncrowded. The hockey team occupied the middle room, and I ended up at the head of the big, central table, with Lianne and Rafe to my right and Graham, Rikker and Pepe to my left.
“Have we met before?” Pepe asked Rafe, offering him a hand to shake.
“Maybe not,” I said. “Rafe is my neighbor and…” My throat tightened as I realized what I was about to say. The team was never going to believe this. “My boyfriend,” I eked out, my voice cracking a little on the word.
Rafe’s face lit with amusement at my delivery. I was surely catching hell for this later.
Or now, maybe, because Lianne drained her beer glass and set it down with a thunk. “CUT!” she yelled. “Bella, you blew the line! Say it again. You can do better. Once more, with feeling.”
Oh, hell. Rafe was laughing now, while Graham and Pepe exchanged a startled look.
“Fine,” I said through gritted teeth. “Rafe is my boyfriend,” I articulated. “Did everyone hear? Should I repeat it for the back row?”
“Wow,” Trevi said from the next table.
“What le fuck?” Pepe echoed.
“Really?” Rikker grinned.
Someone poured Lianne another glass of beer, and she took a big gulp. “That’s better.” She sniffed.
“Just for that, I’m going to make you eat a slice of pizza,” I threatened. I’d never seen Lianne drink anything before. She would need something in her stomach if she was going to discover beer tonight. Sometimes I forgot she was just a freshman.
“I’ll go order a pie,” Rikker said, standing up. Before he walked away, he leaned down and whispered in my ear. “Your boyfriend is hot.”
I pinched his ass. “Don’t even think about stealing this one, asshole.”
Laughing, he pecked my cheek and walked away.
After pizza, we began playing quarters. Lianne didn’t join in. Instead, she was leaning against the old-fashioned jukebox, chatting up Trevi’s younger brother. We’d taken to calling Trevi-the-younger “DJ,” because that was his job — choosing all the music played during face-offs at our hockey games. I’d never spent any time trying to guess what Lianne’s type of guy would look like, but I could see that DJ might suit her. I could only hear snippets of their conversation, but the two of them seemed to be trying to out-nerd each other with obscure song titles.
Unfortunately, Lianne seemed to be drinking an awful lot of Capri’s beer. Weak as the stuff was, it was working its magic. Lianne looked flushed and glassy-eyed.
“Excuse me, guys,” I said. “My little frosh neighbor is looking unsteady. I might have to send her home.”
“Bells, you didn’t tell us you had Princess Vindi as your floormate,” Trevi said. “Don’t you worry that she’ll disappear you in your sleep?”
I slapped him on the back. “I’ll bet she’s never heard that one before.”
“Can you imagine?” Rikker asked, lining up the quarters on the table. “Little kids probably ask to see her wand.”
“So? Girls ask to see my wand all the time,” Trevi boasted. He was rewarded with several groans.
Making my way over to Lianne, I tried to assess the damage. “How are we doing over here?”
“Awesome!” Lianne yelled. “We are playing makelists,” she slurred. “I mean, making playlists.”
I gave DJ a glance. He just grinned.
“Maybe you should head home?” I suggested to Lianne.
“Maybe,” she conceded, clutching the jukebox for support.
“DJ, could you do the honors?” I would’ve been happy to take her home myself, but since the entire team had dragged me out, I had planned to stay a little longer. Also, DJ was a good guy, and Lianne deserved to make a new friend, or ten.
But his face shut down when I made the suggestion, and he shook his head. “Can’t do that. Sorry. Should I ask Graham?”
“I got it,” Rafe said, appearing at my shoulder. “I’ll walk Lianne home. You stay a while longer.”
“Are you sure?”
He kissed me on the neck. “Perfectly. I’ll look over our spreadsheet one more time, and wait for you in your room. Besides, I wouldn’t be too shocked if Lianne spent some quality time in your bathroom tonight. If I’m upstairs, I’ll be able to make sure she’s okay.”
I put my arms around his neck. “You really are the best one, you know that?”
“Been trying to tell you that, belleza.” He grinned down at me. “Glad you’re listening now.” He kissed me, which elicited whoops and catcalls from the hockey team.
My whole life, I’ve never been one to blush. But I think my face turned bright red right then.
Rafe released me, then took Lianne by the hand. “Let’s go home, okay?” he prodded her. “I think the cold air will do you some good.”
“Kay,” she said, swaying.
Rafe tucked an arm around her shoulders and steered Lianne toward the door. I watched them go. Maybe some girls would be reluctant to ask their boyfriends to walk a beautiful movie star home, but it didn’t faze me. Rafe was solid gold, all the way to the center.
Why had it taken me so long to figure out?
“Belluh!” Pepe called out. “One more game?”
“
Sure,” I agreed. “Just let me hit the girls’ room.” I maneuvered toward the dark hallway at the back of Capri’s. It wasn’t the nicest john in the world, that was for damned sure. The men’s room door opened up in front of me, and I was suddenly face to face with one of the guys I’d just spent weeks avoiding.
Dash McGibb.
Shit! My stomach dove, and I took a big step backward, crashing into a chair.
“Easy,” he said, reaching out to steady the chair.
But I wasn’t taking anything easy. I spun around to get away from him.
“Bella.” There was something in his voice that slowed me down. I turned to check his face.
“Wait,” he said quietly. “There’s something I need to say to you.”
I waited. But I could hear blood rushing in my ears, and the urge to flee was strong. If the urge to avoid looking afraid wasn’t also strong, I would have probably pinballed from one piece of furniture to another, making tracks out of there.
“I’m so sorry. I’m sorry for what happened to you.” Dash cleared his throat. “Wait, that’s not good enough. I’m sorry I let it happen.”
“You mixed my drink,” I hissed.
Slowly, he nodded. “I told the dean everything. Whittaker told me to make the ‘special.’ So I did it. But then I regretted it immediately. And when he decided to recruit some help for his—” Dash took a deep breath “—Artwork, I said no way.”
“You did?”
He ran a hand through his short hair. “Yeah. I stayed, though, because the whole thing was really freaky. And I knew that since I was stupid enough to mix that drink, whatever happened afterward was on me. So I watched to make sure they wouldn’t do anything dangerous.”
My urge to flee had morphed into something hotter and angrier. Now I wanted to pick up one of the chairs and brain him with it. “They didn’t rape me, right? So you didn’t feel the need to stop them. Carry on, guys. It’s only marker.”
Dash pushed the heels of both hands against his temples. “I know you hate me, Bella. But I didn’t think I could stop them, short of calling the police. And since I’d just committed a crime, I didn’t do that. That’s how Whittaker sets up all his shit — he always makes sure that someone else is more culpable than he is. I didn’t understand until then. And I never went back.”