Seeing Black

by Sidney Halston

  “Hon’, I’m sorry, but that just can’t be. You must be mistaken. That boy adores you. It’s kind of sickening. Chocolate-cake sickening, remember?”

  “No. I saw her, Heather, with my own two eyes.” Jill slammed the door to her room shut.

  Without knocking, Heather walked in, right behind her. “What did you see, exactly?”

  Jill recanted what happened the previous week when he rushed out and what had just transpired with Miriam. “And I saw it in the club a few weeks ago. Vision, remember.”

  “Okay, fine. It looks bad, but there must be an explanation.”

  “Heather, I appreciate your concern, but I obviously have a terrible track record with men. Look at Paul and now Alexander. I’m so stupid. Why can’t I see these things coming? This psychic shit sucks. I see what I don’t want to see, but what I do want to see—nothing. Nada. I wish I had already learned whatever my father says he can teach me. Maybe I would have seen this coming.” Jill threw herself on the bed.

  “I know this is a bad time, but I wanted to talk to you about Oliver. He asked me out next weekend before he took off on his trip. I wanted to see if it was okay with you. The only reason I’m bringing this up now is because I can ask him about this Miriam chick.”

  Jill sat up. “No. Absolutely not.”

  “Oh. Okay.” Heather looked down. The disappointment was written all over her face. She turned and slowly started making her way out of the room, shoulders slumped forward.

  “No, sweetie, wait! I didn’t mean that it isn’t okay with me for you to date Oliver. That’s great. I kind of already thought you were. I mean you guys are together a lot.”

  “Not really. It’s only when you and Alexander are with us.”

  Jill hadn’t really noticed, but it was true. Oliver tended to tag along with Alexander to their apartment but never came by on his own. Well, not since they had returned from the island. “Oh, well, it’s fine with me. I’m happy for you, Heather. He’s such a great guy. Hell, I think he’s a great guy, but I don’t know the difference between a great guy and a crappy cheating bastard, apparently.”

  “That’s not true. I’m telling you, there’s something you’re missing. You need to speak with Alex. He wouldn’t do that to you.”

  “Well, he has my number. He can call and explain whenever he so wishes. What I meant was absolutely no to you speaking to Oliver about my issues with his brother. Please, don’t mention anything. One of the things he and I promised each other was that if Xander and I pursued a relationship and it didn’t work out, he didn’t want to be caught in the middle. I made a promise to him that I wouldn’t involve him, so please promise me you won’t mention it to him.”

  “Sure thing, hon’.” Heather sat next to Jill on her bed. “You going to be okay?”

  Jill shook her head side to side and shrugged. Her voice broke when she said, “I don’t think so.” She had tried to be strong and controlled, but it just wasn’t possible any longer. She covered her face with her hands, bent forward, and began to sob.

  Heather lay down next to Jill and hugged her, letting her cry until her breathing evened out and she fell asleep.

  Chapter 6

  It is better to be feared than loved, if you cannot be both.

  -Niccolo Machiavelli

  The following day, Sunday, Alexander called Jillian again. She didn’t answer again. When she’d awoken, she’d seen four missed calls from his number.

  He left her a voicemail asking—no, begging—for her to call him back. “Jill, love, please, please call me. Have you heard any of my messages? I want to explain. I wanted to explain earlier but couldn’t. In class, we never had a chance alone to talk. God, listen to me? When did I turn into a whining little pussy? The phone call was an emergency. A girl I used to party with, Miriam, was in trouble. She was the person who helped me sober up after I overdosed. She was using again and needed my help. It was real bad for a few days. She was detoxing and refused to go to the hospital. That’s why I didn’t go to class and why it was hard to answer the phone. Anyway, she’s better now. I called her sister, and she’s coming to get her tomorrow morning. Please call me. I miss you.”

  Then he sent a text.

  ALEXANDER: Please call me. I want to explain. Have you heard my voicemails?

  An hour later. . .

  ALEXANDER: I’ll see you tomorrow at the mock trial clinics. You can’t avoid me forever. I love you too much. Listen to your voicemails or call me! Can I drive you to class tomorrow?

  JILL: No. See you in class.

  Jill heard all the messages and read all the texts right before she went to bed. Although still upset and not completely convinced, she did go to sleep a little bit more at ease than she had the last week. For some reason, naïve or not, his excuse sounded more plausible than him cheating on her. He just wouldn’t do that to her. Or would he?

  ***

  Monday morning, Alexander stormed into the large auditorium with two minutes to spare. He’d wanted to get there early so that he could talk with Jill, but, of course, he was running late. He scanned the crowded room and immediately spotted her. She was like a beacon. She wore a gray pantsuit, her red hair perfectly picked up in a bun. All the students looked professional; they were required to dress as if they were conducting a real trial. She, however, oozed a sexuality that couldn’t be hidden beneath a lawyerly pantsuit. There were no chairs available by her. He made his way across the aisle of students and squatted down in front of her. Jill’s head was down; she was writing into a legal pad. He placed his hand on her knee, and her head jolted up.

  “Jillian?” He whispered.

  Her eyes widened to the size of green plates. “Right now is not the time or place, okay?” she whispered back. “I heard your voicemail.”

  “So you understand?” He stopped breathing for the second it took her to reply.

  “Not really. You have a lot of explaining to do, but not now. I need to prepare. So do you. Just go,” she said, looking back down at her notebook.

  Disheartened, Alexander stood and made his way to an available seat at the front of the courtroom. The side door to the auditorium opened, and in walked a very familiar figure with tall, pitch black hair. Professor Paul Black. It amazed Jillian, after all he had done to her, that he still took her breath away with his mysterious persona and his overall demeanor. The man was intense and sexy, and she was just a woman, after all.

  Without missing a single beat, Paul and Alexander’s eyes locked. Jill could see from where she sat that Alexander’s nose flared, his cheeks reddened, and his knuckles were white from being fisted closed. He looked as if he were going to stand up and confront him. They had not seen each other since Paul and Jill had broken up, and she had never confronted him about the text Heather found. Jill could see it took every single ounce of Alexander’s self-control not to rush over and punch Paul right in the nose. She hadn’t expected to see Black. He was supposed to be organizing the seminar, but not teaching it.

  Awkwardly, Paul cleared his throat. “Good morning, ladies and gentlemen. I hope you are all ready and understand the ins and outs of this case. You don’t know which role you will be assigned, but you are expected to rally behind your client whether you are his attorney or opposing counsel. Remember the facts of the case. Since this is only the first week, the case is relatively simple. The victim was allegedly sexually assaulted by the defendant at a party. You can make up some of the facts yourself. In this bag, you will find the words: victim, witness, plaintiff, judge, defense counsel, and state attorney. Since we have an odd number of students in the class, I will be playing the victim in one of the groups. While a trial is in session, the groups that are not actively participating must quietly watch from the audience section of the courtroom. I hope you all understand. You will be graded on a point system. The graders will be sitting back there.” Paul pointed to the back of the class at a panel of three judges. “They are judges and lawyers from our community. The stakes are high. This is a
very prestigious competition, and most winners in the past have been immediately hired by top firms upon graduation.”

  There were some oohs and aahs from the classroom as the each of the students stood up and grabbed a piece of paper from the bag Paul held. When Jill was almost in front of Black, Alexander magically appeared at her side. He placed his hand on the small of her back, leading her the rest of the steps. Jill tried to step away from Alexander’s reach, but his hand snaked around her waist and pulled her close to him. She glared at him, but his eyes didn’t falter from staring at Black. “Stop manhandling me,” Jill whispered.

  “Jillian.” Black whispered, sounding almost pained. His eyes moved back and forth between Jill and Alexander. Alexander’s arm tightened. Jill didn’t meet Paul’s gaze. She just reached into the bag.

  Alexander gently pushed Jill aside and stepped in front of her and whispered, “I know what you fucking did, Black. Do not fucking speak to her. You’ve hurt her enough.” The two towering men were inches from each other. Two lions squaring off. It looked as if Alexander were going to hit Paul, but instead, he reached into the bag and pulled out a paper. “You and I have things to talk about, Black.” He stepped away and towards Jill. Jill just stared at the two men, speechless, as Alexander led her back to her seat.

  “What did you get?” Alexander asked her.

  “Huh?” She was too astounded to speak. Alexander pointed to the paper she held in her hand. “Oh. Uh . . .” She opened it and read it. “State attorney. You?”

  “Judge.”

  “Pfft! Figures.”

  “What does that mean?” Alexander asked.

  “That’s the easiest role.”

  “We’ll see about that. I wonder whose group I’m in?”

  “It’s on the back. It says either one, two, or three. I’m in group one. You?”

  “Well, look at that. So am I. You can’t seem to get rid of me, Red.” He kissed her cheek and Jill pulled away. “I’m sorry I stormed out on Saturday night. I should have called and explained, but Miriam was in crisis, and I had to help her. She helped me get sober. I had to do the same for her. I owed her that.”

  Jill shook her head side to side. “I don’t know what to believe. I want to trust you, but seeing her in nothing but a towel in your house, while you slept, coupled with the fact that she said she was,” Jill looked around before poking him with her index finger, “your fucking girlfriend . . . Well, you can see where it may be just a teensy bit difficult to fucking believe you.” She whispered-yelled at him.

  “You were in my house? When?”

  “Last week. I was worried. And that person said she was your girlfriend!”

  “Miriam? No way. You must have misunderstood. She would never say that. She’s just a friend I was helping. You heard the voicemail. I had to help her. She’s not a liar. You misunderstood her, Jill. And now you’re being overly dramatic about the whole thing.”

  Before Jill had a chance to answer, Black was calling the class to order. Thank God for the interruption because Jill had a sudden urge to slap Alexander right across the face. How dare he accuse her of lying! “Okay class. Settle down. You all now know which group you’re in and what role you are to play. You have half hour to prepare and speak with your clients and witness. Group one, be back in the court room by 10:30. I will play the victim for group one. Who is the state attorney? We should talk since I am your number-one witness.”

  Jill whimpered and under her breath mumbled, “God, can I ever get a break?” She walked towards Paul, Professor Black. “It’s me. I’m the state attorney.”

  In a nanosecond, Alexander was by her side again. He was shooting daggers at Paul. His hand held Jill’s forearm.

  Jill turned to Alexander, pulling her arm away from him. “You need to leave. This is important. You’re the judge, and you can’t be here while I prep my witness. I am so pissed at you that I can’t even think straight.”

  “This asshole,” he pointed to Paul who was standing right in front Jill, “hurt you and Heather.”

  “Heather? What are you talking about? Jillian, we need to talk about this. You don’t understand. I didn’t mean to hurt—”

  “Both of you. Stop it! Just stop it!” She whisper-shouted, again. “I’m a big girl. I can take it. I should really be thanking you, both of you, actually. You both taught me a big lesson. I’ve been too trusting, too naive. That’s over. Right now, we’re in a room full of students and professors. This isn’t the time or place. Get out, Alexander, and do whatever you need to do to prepare. Paul, sit.” She pointed to the chair. “I have questions to ask you.” She pulled out her legal pad, all business.

  Alexander sighed, loudly, and walked away, but not too far.

  For the first time since they met, Jillian had never seen Paul so out of sorts “Okay. Why don’t you sit and we can discuss this. Just pretend I’m the victim. Prep me as you would a victim in a real trial.” He seemed softer, less intimidating. His eyes reflected something akin to an apology, but Jill just ignored it. It was all a ruse. She had read the text exchange between him and Brian/Ben. He was a fraud, and she wouldn’t be played again, not by Black and not by Alexander.

  For the next few minutes, they sat in a corner and discussed the case. She explained what she would ask and told him to just make sure he played up the victim-in-distress role so that she could win the case and the pretend-defendant would be found guilty.

  “Um, Jillian, are you okay with this? You seem uncomfortable? I suppose I could recuse myself.”

  “No, that’s fine. I’m fine. I mean you’re a lying deceitful asshole, but I’m fine.” He recoiled, and she stood up straighter, chin up. He would not see her self-doubt or the hurt he left in the wake of his deceit.

  “Jillian,” he reached forward for her hand, but she pulled back. His hand fell by his side, and he whispered something that sounded like an apology. “Why did Jacobs say I hurt Heather?”

  “Don’t pretend anymore. I know you were using me. I know all about Brian or Ben or whatever the hell his name is. I don’t know what hurts more: the fact that I actually fell for it or your lie. This mock trial is very important to me, and I need to focus on it. I don’t want to deal with your drama right now.”

  “Fuck,” Black whispered. His face seemed full of emotions she couldn’t decipher. “You have to let me explain. It’s not what you think.”

  “Jill, may I speak with you for a second.” Alexander was standing behind her.

  “It’s inappropriate for the judge to speak with one of the counselors, Mr. Jacobs.” Paul stood close to Alexander as he spoke.

  “We haven’t begun yet. Either way, I don’t think you have any say so on what is appropriate or not, Black. Everything about this is inappropriate!” He hissed out the word Black instead of calling him Professor. Alexander grabbed Jill’s elbow and led her out of hearing distance.

  “You okay?” Alexander asked.

  “Yes, I’m fine. Just a little surprised to see him here.” She pulled her hand away. “And you,” she pointed at Alexander, “are on my shit list too, so stop manhandling me and pretending we’re okay.”

  “Fine. We’ll talk about us, but not now. Right now, we have to do something about that creep.” He glanced over at Paul, who was speaking with another student. “We can’t just pretend we don’t know about his plan and about what he did to you.”

  “Not now. Later. We are in a room full of professors and other classmates. Just . . .” She sighed. “Just trust me, Alexander. Just trust me. You think you can do that? I’m not a helpless little girl. I know a thing or two. Just let it go for now, okay?”

  “You are such an exasperating woman.” He placed his big palms on her cheeks and stared intently into her eyes. “But I love you. I’m here, so there isn’t much he can do to hurt you.” He pulled her face closer to his and lightly brushed his lips against hers.

  “I’m still mad at you, you know.”

  “I know. But you still love me.” He smiled
and walked away.

  “I do,” she mumbled.

  “I was an asshole earlier. I was just trying to say that it was no big deal. The Miriam thing, it’s no big deal. But it came out all wrong. You know nothing happened between her and me. I know that, deep down, you believe me.”

  She sighed and repeated. “I do.”

  Court was in session.

  Just like a real trial, Jill made her opening statement, followed by another member of her class, Jeffery McGinnis, who was playing the role of defense counsel.

  The first witness was called up, played by another member of the class. She had supposedly witnessed the defendant and the victim interacting at the party before the alleged sexual assault. Jill questioned the witness relentlessly until she felt it was obvious to the jurors/judges that the witness was helping prove her case against the defendant/alleged rapist.

  Next, Jill called the victim to the stand. It was a little strange to have the victim played by a male, her ex-boyfriend, the professor, the lying deceitful jerk, especially since the victim was a female in the sample scenario and the student who was playing the defendant was also male. Jill would have to pretend. She made adjustments and proceeded accordingly.

  Jill began. “Please state your name for the record.”

  “Paulina Black.” There was some snickering from some of the other members of the class who sat in the courtroom.

  First, Jill asked some qualifying questions such as address, date of birth, etc. “Do you recognize the man who is sitting over there?” She pointed to the defendant.

  “Yes. His name is William Robins.”

  “Yes or no, Ms. Black.” Jill looked straight at Paul without a shimmer of amusement. She was correcting her own witness without even an objection from opposing counsel. There were a few sighs from the back of the class, and she saw Judge Alexander’s eyes open wide and slight amusement form around his lips. Even Jill didn’t know where she was going with this, but suddenly, seeing Paul on the witness stand, playing the role of a helpless victim, made her furious. The facts of the case felt a little similar to her own situation. She took a deep calming breath. She had to keep composed. He was not a hostile witness. He was on her side—Paulina, not Paul. Paul was the enemy.