Testing Kate

by Whitney Gaskell

  “No. But it makes for a good story,” Armstrong said, collapsing on the sofa next to Elvis.

  I stood up, stretching. “I had no idea it was so late. I’d better get home.”

  “First tell me how your trip with the academic was. Wait—what’s that I see on your hand?” Armstrong demanded. His Southern accent got stronger when he drank. Right now he sounded like Foghorn Leghorn.

  I looked down shyly at my ring. It still felt foreign on my hand, like a piece of borrowed jewelry.

  “We got engaged,” I said.

  “So I see. To the academic, I take it?”

  “Of course,” I said. “And how can you disapprove of Graham when you’ve never even met him?”

  “Who said I disapprove?”

  “You keep telling me I should break up with him.”

  “That doesn’t mean I disapprove,” Armstrong said. I looked at him. He shrugged. “Okay, so I disapprove.”

  “At least meet him before you decide to hate him,” I said, as I gathered my keys and papers together.

  “Have a drink before you go,” Armstrong said.

  I hesitated. He looked like he’d already had more than enough to drink.

  “We have to celebrate your pending nuptials,” Armstrong said, waving two empty glasses at me.

  “Okay, one drink. And then I have to get home. I have class tomorrow,” I said.

  I sat back down while Armstrong poured a bourbon for him, a glass of wine for me.

  “If you’re going to live in the South, you’re going to have to learn how to drink bourbon one of these days,” Armstrong said, handing me my glass. “So tell me all about it.”

  I filled him in on the trip, and Graham’s proposal, and how we’d gone out to dinner afterward for lobster ravioli and champagne. Graham—still enthralled with photography—had taken about a hundred photos, ensuring that the whole magical evening would be captured on film.

  “It was perfect. Very romantic,” I said.

  And it was. I remembered my mother telling me a story about how the daughter of one of her friends was proposed to while she and her boyfriend were watching a football game on television. At the commercial break, the boyfriend had turned to her and said, “So…wanna get married?” And she actually accepted. Ever since I’ve lived in fear that I’d receive a similarly dismal proposal. I mean, really. How can you marry someone who proposes on a commercial break?

  “Ah, to be young and in love,” Armstrong said. The slur was becoming more pronounced, and his head lolled back on the sofa. “Have I ever told you about Hunter?”

  “A hunter? Like the kind that killed Bambi?”

  Armstrong gave me a dirty look. “No. That was his name: Hunter.”

  “Oh…no. You’ve never talked about him.”

  “He was the love of my life,” Armstrong mused. “And he broke my heart.”

  I could feel the weight of his words settle between us.

  “What happened?” I asked gently.

  He shrugged. “Whatever generally happens. I was neglectful, he was bored. He resented my success. I resented his…indiscretions.”

  “I’m so sorry,” I said.

  Armstrong set his empty glass on the coffee table. When he leaned back against the sofa, he shut his eyes. People usually look younger when they relax into sleep, but Armstrong seemed to age. Without the usual vivaciousness lighting his face, his skin grayed and the lines fanning out from his eyes and mouth became more pronounced.

  “Love is not so easy to come by, Katie,” he murmured. “Be careful with it.”

  His breath slacked off into a low rumbling snore. I took a throw blanket from the back of a chair and tucked it around him, and then let myself out.

  The next day I noticed that my engagement ring was starting to leave a rash on my finger. The skin under it was rising up in itchy red bumps.

  Great, I thought, scratching my finger. I was allergic to my engagement ring. I hoped it wasn’t a sign.

  I considered leaving the ring at home in my jewelry box, but it seemed disloyal. So I smeared some cortisone cream on the rash, slid the ring back on, and went to school.

  I got in early so I’d have time to read Hoffman’s assignment before class. Even though it was gray and muggy, and the air was so humid my skin felt clammy, I couldn’t bear sitting in the airless library. Instead, I claimed a bench outside on the student-union patio, sitting cross-legged with my Con Law book open on my lap.

  Just as I was finishing, two figures loomed in front of me. I looked up. It was Jen and Lexi, standing side by side and grinning down at me with knowing smiles.

  “Hi,” I said.

  “Is there something you want to tell us?” Jen asked.

  “How did you find out?” I asked. I knew what the gossip network was like at the law school, but the only other people who knew about my engagement were Graham and Armstrong, neither of whom knew anyone I went to school with.

  “I can’t believe you thought you could keep it a secret,” Lexi said.

  “I didn’t. I’m wearing my ring, after all,” I said, holding up my left hand to show off the diamond.

  “What?” Jen gasped.

  “You’re engaged?” Lexi chimed in.

  “To who?” Jen asked.

  “Graham. Who do you think? Wait…what were you guys talking about?”

  Lexi and Jen looked at each other.

  “Nick,” Jen said.

  I went cold. Nick told them we slept together? The idea that they’d all talked about me—that he had talked about me—made me queasy. I knew Nick’s reputation, of course, knew that he probably saw me as just another conquest, but still. I’d assumed he’d keep our interlude to himself for the sake of our friendship.

  “What did he tell you?” I asked quietly.

  “Nothing,” Jen said. My sick dread must have been reflected in my face, because she blanched and sat down next to me. “Oh, no, Kate. It wasn’t like that. He didn’t tell us anything. Nick was upset, so Addison took him out and got him drunk to cheer him up, and that’s when Nick told Addison what happened. Addison told me, and I told Lexi. We were just going to tease you about it.”

  “Why was Nick upset?” I asked.

  Jen and Lexi exchanged another meaningful look.

  “What?” I asked.

  “Kate, Nick really likes you. I think that he thought that after you two…well, you know. He thought you were going to get together. That you’d be a couple,” Jen said.

  “And then you went off to the Keys with Graham,” Lexi said.

  “No. You’re wrong,” I said, shaking my head. “Nick doesn’t like me. Not seriously. You know what he’s like. He’s a player.”

  “Actually,” Jen said thoughtfully, “I can’t remember the last time Nick hooked up with someone. Well. Someone other than you, I mean. Lexi, can you?”

  “Last semester, maybe?” Lexi said, furrowing her brow as she thought it over. “Addison was teasing him about it one night when we were all out. Nick said he was a changed man.”

  “Oh, my God!” Jen exclaimed, so suddenly that I started.

  “What?” I asked.

  “What if you’re the reason why? What if he’s fallen so madly and deeply in love with you he’s given up all other women?”

  I had to admit, it was a flattering thought. Flattering—but unlikely.

  “I seriously doubt that,” I said.

  “I’d ask you how your trip was, but I’m guessing it went well,” Lexi said. “Are you going to tell us what happened?”

  “Yes, tell us everything! How did he propose? What did he say? What did you say? I can’t believe you’re engaged!” Jen chirped.

  And just as the words were leaving her mouth, Nick appeared. I hadn’t seen him approach, because all of a sudden he was just there, standing in front of us. When my eyes met his, my stomach dipped and dropped. I knew he’d overheard Jen, but I couldn’t tell what he was feeling. Hurt? Surprise? Indifference?

  “Nick,” I said.
“Um…hi.”

  “Hey. I’ve got to get inside, class is starting,” Nick said. He turned and strode off toward the law school.

  “Damn. Shit,” I said. I pressed the heels of my hands to my forehead. “I didn’t want him to find out like this.”

  “Oh, Kate. God, I’m sorry,” Jen said. She looked stricken.

  “It’s not your fault. It’s just my bad luck again. And it’s getting worse. Do you see this?” I took out the lucky rabbit’s foot Armstrong had given me and waved it at them. “This doesn’t work. In fact, if anything, my luck has gotten even worse since I started carrying it. It’s probably cursed. I have the only cursed rabbit’s foot in existence.”

  “You think it’s bad luck to have two great guys in love with you?” Lexi asked curtly.

  I looked up at her, surprised by her biting tone. But then I remembered: Jacob. I’d been so caught up in my own drama, I’d forgotten all about hers.

  “Oh, Lex, I’m sorry. I can’t believe I’m being so self-centered,” I said, grabbing one of her hands and squeezing it. “I heard about you and Jacob. Are you okay?”

  Lexi paused, and then she slipped her hand from mine. She tossed her hair back, gathered it in a ponytail and secured it with a black elastic.

  “Oh, him,” she said disdainfully. “He’s an asshole. I’m so over that.”

  “You’re not upset?” I asked.

  She laughed without humor. “Of course not. It’s not like I was ever that into him. Come on, we’d better go in. We don’t want to be late for Hoffman.”

  I looked at Jen, and she shrugged and briefly shook her head, silently warning me not to push Lexi. However Lexi had really felt about him and the sudden demise of their relationship, the subject of Jacob Reid was closed for discussion.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Nick didn’t look at me when I sat down next to him in class. He bent over his notes, his head resting on one hand.

  “Good morning, ladies and gentlemen.” Hoffman’s nasal voice filled the room. “When we last left off, we were discussing the Commerce Clause, limping along at an excruciatingly slow pace, thanks to Mr. Chesney’s feeble analysis.”

  I glanced at Brian Chesney, who had endured a scathing interrogation during the last class before spring break. He now looked down at his book, his puggish face red and his shoulders sagging.

  “Today we’ll be covering the civil-rights cases. I hope you’re prepared, because we’re going to be moving through the material quickly to catch up to where we should be,” Hoffman continued. “First up will be Heart of Atlanta Motel. Let’s see…who haven’t we heard from in a while,” Hoffman mused aloud while he consulted his seating chart. I saw his eyes flicker toward me, and I immediately raised my hand.

  “Ms…. Mallick,” Hoffman said, his flat eyes sliding pastme and onto Dana.

  Dana inhaled sharply, and she began paging through her textbook with shaking hands. I glanced at her, not sure what was wrong. It wasn’t like she hadn’t done the reading. Dana was always prepared. Always. She’d even come to class when she had the flu.

  “Ms. Mallick, we’re waiting,” Hoffman said, his voice louder and more peevish.

  I looked back to Dana. She’d turned a sickly shade of white and looked on the verge of tears.

  Oh, my God, she doesn’t know the answer, I realized. Dana—the academic Girl Wonder—had actually shown up unprepared. And now it looked like she was going to be sick right then and there.

  I closed my eyes, gritted my teeth, and then thrust my hand back up in the air.

  “Ms. Bennett, put your hand down,” Hoffman said. He didn’t raise his voice, but his tone was dangerously cold. “Ms. Mallick. Heart of Atlanta Motel.”

  “I didn’t read the case,” Dana said, so softly I could barely hear her.

  “We can’t hear you, Ms. Mallick. Please stand up,” Hoffman said.

  Dana looked at him fearfully but didn’t move. I could see tears shimmering in her wide brown eyes, and her lips were pressed so tightly together, they were ringed with white.

  “Ms. Mallick, are you deaf or merely dumb?” Hoffman said.

  “Leave her alone!” I said, my voice cracking across the silent room.

  “Kate,” Nick breathed, the word a warning. But it was too late. Everyone’s eyes were on me, just as they’d been on that first day of Criminal Law class. But this was worse, I knew. Then I’d only been yet another timid law student for him to bully. The transgression of openly confronting him in class was far more serious.

  “I beg your pardon?” Hoffman’s voice was more incredulous than angry.

  “I said, leave her alone,” I replied, trying to keep the quaver out of my voice.

  Hoffman and I stared at each other, and for a moment it was as though we were alone in the room. Nick’s presence, Dana’s sniffling—they were both pushed to the periphery of my consciousness as I waited.

  “Ms. Mallick. Stand. Up. Now.”

  Dana pushed her chair back and, bracing her hands against the edge of the table, she pulled herself up.

  “Thanks to your friend Ms. Bennett, you will be in the hot seat for the remainder of class, Ms. Mallick,” Hoffman said. “Now. The Court’s holding in Heart of Atlanta.”

  “I…I didn’t read it,” Dana said again, this time a little louder.

  She held on to the edge of the table. Her eyes were wide with fear and her mouth gaped open, giving her a vaguely fishy appearance. Hoffman stared back at her, his face cold and foreboding. I closed my eyes for a moment, took a deep breath, and then stood up.

  “In Heart of Atlanta, a hotel owner sought to have the Civil Rights Act of 1964 held unconstitutional,” I said loudly. “The Court rejected this claim, and—”

  “Ms. Bennett, get out of my class,” Hoffman snapped.

  Hoffman glared at me, and as I looked into his cold, pale eyes, I wavered. What the hell was I doing? Was I crazy? Had I finally snapped under the pressure? I wondered.

  “The Court held that Congress had the power to pass the act, because the motel’s business had an effect on interstate commerce,” Nick suddenly said. He stood up too, so that we were shoulder to shoulder.

  “Mr. Crosby. How nice of you to join us,” Hoffman said. “You’ve also bought yourself a ticket out of my class.”

  But Nick’s help bolstered my courage.

  “The Court struggled with the fact that their holding was a pretext but concluded that the ends justified the means,” I said, projecting up from my diaphragm so that my voice rang across the room.

  “I want the two of you out of here now. Get out of my fucking class!” Hoffman shouted. He banged his fist against the lectern, and his notes flew up into the air and scattered on the ground. Wisps of Hoffman’s hair floated up over his face, which was turning a violent shade of purple.

  The silence that had been holding the class broke in a swell of gasps and murmurs. The noise seemed to snap Hoffman out of his rage, and he visibly struggled to gain control of himself. He smoothed his hair back down with one hand, gripped the edge of the lectern with the other.

  “Before your continued presence disrupts us any further,” Hoffman continued, his voice cold and tight.

  “Fine,” I said, and I leaned over and grabbed my notepad off the table and shoved it into my knapsack. Dana looked at me fearfully, and I shook my head at her. Walking out of the room right now pretty much guaranteed not being able to return, and there was no reason for Nick and me to drag Dana down with us. “Just sit back down,” I whispered to her, and she sank into her seat.

  The class went silent again as I walked down the aisle and up the staircase, Nick following behind me. The room was thick with scandal, and it seemed to take forever to reach the exit. When we finally got there, I held the door open for Nick and then followed him out into the corridor. The hallway was empty, except for a group of Two-Ls who were sitting in the student lounge, so when the door shut behind us, the loud clatter echoed ominously.

  I paused just outsi
de the door, pressing my hands against my cheeks to cool them. What the hell had I just done? I was doomed. Doomed. Nick too. What had he been thinking jumping in like that?

  Nick hadn’t waited for me. He kept walking down the short hall toward the front door of the law school. His shoulders were squared, and his step was determined. He seemed intent on getting away.

  “Nick!” I called out. When he didn’t turn back or even break his stride, I hurried after him and grabbed his arm.

  “Hey,” I said. “You didn’t have to do that.”

  Nick just looked at me as though I were a stranger. As though we hadn’t spent nearly every day together for seven months. As though he hadn’t just seen me naked less than a week ago.

  “Neither did you,” he said.

  “What do you think Hoffman’s going to do?” I asked.

  He shrugged. “I don’t know. But I can’t think about it now. I have too much work to do.”

  “Yeah, me too.” I tried to think of something to say, something that would dispel the strangeness between us. I wanted my friend back.

  “I hear congratulations are in order,” Nick said casually.

  “What? Oh. Thanks,” I said. I touched my engagement ring self-consciously. “Look, Nick—”

  “I’ve really got to get going. I’ll catch you later,” Nick said. He turned and strode off down the hall, rounding the corner out of sight.

  The reprisals came almost immediately. When I got to school the next morning, there was an official-looking missive on school letterhead waiting for me in my mail folder. It notified me politely, but tersely, that I was to report to Teresa Sullivan. Immediately.

  I remembered the last time I’d been summoned to a dean’s office.

  It had been back in my undergrad days at Cornell. A phone call from the Dean for Student Affairs had woken me up so early on a Saturday morning, I’d incorporated the ring of the telephone into my dream at first before it shook me awake. When I finally did answer, I fumbled with the receiver before finally hitting the on button.

  “Hello…is this Kate Bennett?”

  I hadn’t recognized the voice. It was male and sounded older, official.