Ripples Through Time

by Lincoln Cole

  “True,” I agree. “But I don’t think it was a favoritism thing. I loved them each differently. I think it was just harder to get along with Jason and Richard because they were too much like me.”

  “They got your traits?”

  I laugh. “Only the bad ones. Especially Jason. He was like looking into a mirror sometimes, and I knew he’d have a tough way of things. He was determined to learn everything the hard way.”

  Edward laughs. “Yeah. That describes me a little, too.”

  “Do you remember when Jason got arrested?”

  Edward chuckles. “Which time?”

  I smile. “When Adam…”

  “Oh yeah,” he says. “I remember.

  “A lot happened that day. I’m not sure how much of it you actually knew.”

  “I knew quite a bit,” Edward says. “But how about you go ahead and tell me about it anyway?”

  ***

  Beth leaned back in her hard-backed desk chair. She released a heavy sigh and rubbed her temples. Her back was tight from sitting too long, her eyes were sore, and her brain hurt; she was also well past the point of caring about what she was reading. If she didn’t know the material by now, she wasn’t going to know any of it with a few more hours of staring at her books. Right now all she cared about was taking her final exam in economics and forgetting everything she’d learned.

  The worst part about studying for this test was she knew it was a waste of time: more than likely the chapters she was studying wouldn’t actually show up on the test. Professor Melkin handed out a study guide with material he expected his students to know, but he rarely used it when designing his tests. On the midterm she’d discovered that, if anything, the guide dealt with topics not on the exam. She had left the testing room wanting to yank her hair out.

  She’d bombed that midterm. Low seventies was all she’d managed to scrape by with. After her studying and preparing for the test, only three questions actually came from the professor’s study guide.

  This time she was determined to prepare better. She’d set aside study time for both the material on the guide as well as the things the guide omitted. She knew how to defeat Professor Melkin’s test…

  Or, at least, that was her original theory. That was before she remembered just how many chapters they’d covered in the second half of the course. Thirteen from one textbook and six from another; each had forty to sixty terms to memorize. Even if she only focused on the important features of each chapter, there would be entirely too much to remember it all.

  It was a class on macroeconomics: big picture money problems. She loved economics; or at least she did before this class. Macroeconomics was focused on predictive studies, capable of mapping out changes in supply and demand for an extended network over an indeterminate period of time. It should have been a lot of fun.

  Quite the opposite, the class was both boring and underwhelming. The Professor was tedious and old, the material shoddy and untenable. She found herself swamped in bell curves, diagrams, and memorization. She was expected to know what each key term represented, its origins, and any modern usage it found in the U.S. markets.

  And it all felt like a waste of time. She massaged her brow with the tips of her fingers and closed her eyes. She had a tension headache and needed sleep, but she didn’t think she would get any tonight. Not with the final hovering over her. She was too anxious to relax. This was one of her major courses, and she had to get at least a ninety-four to keep her GPA up. Otherwise she would be forced to take remedial courses to lift it back up before graduating, and that was not a promising proposition.

  A sudden burst of laughter outside her window distracted her. Students were playing volleyball. Tension relief.

  Beth closed the window.

  No mistakes, no missteps. She couldn’t afford to lose her focus, even if she hated the process. If Professor Melkin curved the grade—he always did by at least ten points when everyone did poorly—she still had to do very well. There wasn’t a lot of room for error.

  The door opened. Her roommate, Sarah Nolen, came in. She was carrying a gym bag and looked tired. Sarah was a short red head, barely topping five feet, with grey eyes and a winning smile. She’d dated four different guys this semester alone—two at the same time who never met each other—and Beth hadn’t even bothered to count the number of times she’d stumbled home early in the morning with a sheepish grin on her face after nights spent with guys not worth adding to the count.

  Beth and Sarah weren’t really friends. Most of the time when they tried talking to each other they just ended up arguing. Sarah thought Beth was a stuck-up prude and Beth thought Sarah was a…

  Well…

  They were simply too different. She liked Sarah as a person and thought she was friendly, but they just didn’t get along; nothing in common. But even though they didn’t like each other personally, they were respectful as roommates. Both were determined to keep their living situation as comfortable as possible.

  They had fallen into a comfortable rhythm, careful not to step on the other’s toes. Sarah knew better than to bring her boy toys to the room, especially when Beth was studying, and Beth spent extra time making sure she didn’t leave her things lying out in Sarah’s way. She also—out of general courtesy—neglected to inform Sarah that many thought of her as the campus bicycle.

  “Studying?” Sarah asked.

  “Of course,” Beth replied.

  “Econ?”

  Beth nodded.

  “I’m so glad I don’t have to take that class.”

  “Did you take your sociology final?”

  “It went well,” Sarah answered with a smile. Beth could tell that Sarah was lying—she always smiled when she lied—but didn’t push the issue. Partly because she wanted to respect Sarah’s privacy, and partly because she just didn’t care.

  Sarah was studying to be a secretary. She’d come to campus to find a husband—her parents insisted that any man worthy of taking care of their daughter would be college educated—and she was not abashed about how she spent her time.

  For the most part, it sickened Beth, which was why she refused to talk about it. But she also had to admit that she envied Sarah’s self-confidence. She was a pretty little thing with a smile that could melt candles. And, more importantly, she knew how to seduce.

  Something Beth couldn’t do. She was usually too busy being clumsy and in-the-way to be seductive. It simply wasn’t in the cards for her to use her body like that. When men looked at her that way she found herself blushing and hurrying to drop their attention.

  To be honest, since arriving at college last year, the only man she’d spent a lot of time with was Adam White. And he didn’t really count. He was a friend before coming to college, and their casual relationship was one of mutual benefit. He liked her—she’d known that since they were in high school—and she hadn’t been able to think of a good reason to say ‘no’ when he asked her out. They both knew it would never be anything more. He was, basically, a good excuse for her to avoid the amorous advancements of less savory frat boys.

  Beth shook her head, realizing her mind was wandering. She let out another sigh. She couldn’t really focus on macroeconomics anymore. The last three pages of her textbook simply passed into and out of her memory.

  “Mine isn’t going well,” she said, sliding her chair back from the desk. The room was a mess, dirty clothes dotting the floor and tabletops, open books and papers scattered about. She was normally tidier than this, but she hadn’t cleaned up since finals week started. This was her second year into the business program, and she already had a fortune invested into completing it. She couldn’t afford to screw up now, so she simply didn’t have time to clean.

  And of course, Sarah never would either.

  “That’s too bad,” Sarah said. “But I’m sure you’ll do fine.”

  “I need to do better than fine.”

  “Oh,” Sarah replied. They’d already discussed how badly her midterm went.
“Want to take a break and get dinner? Or were you planning to eat with Adam?”

  Beth shook her head. “Adam isn’t coming by this week at all. He has his own finals and we set up a mutual plan to avoid each other. No distractions.”

  Sarah grinned, and the grin told Beth exactly what she thought of such a distraction. “We wouldn’t want that now, would we?”

  Beth ignored her. “We could go to the commons and have a bite.”

  “Good. Anything to get your mind off books for a while,” Sarah said. “And so I don’t have to eat alone. And don’t worry. I won’t be here tonight to bug you. I have a date.”

  Beth smiled politely, not the least surprised.

  ***

  The food smelled good. Beth hadn’t realized how hungry she was until they were waiting in line, and then her stomach started grumbling. Tonight was roast beef and mashed potatoes slathered in some sort of brown gravy.

  She opted—regretfully—for the salad bar instead. She didn’t need something heavy sitting in her stomach; not with a test in the morning.

  The James Caldwell cafeteria was nearly empty when they sat down to eat. It was before the dinner rush, which was pleasant. Beth didn’t like big crowds. She hadn’t since she was a little girl. Crowds made her feel claustrophobic and paranoid, and she took pains to avoid them.

  Sarah had a plate full of beef and potatoes, both smothered in gravy and coated in pepper. She always received extra helpings during dinner. She didn’t even have to bat her eyelashes anymore. Gently touch a man on the shoulder a few times, laugh pleasantly at his jokes, and he’ll give you free food for life. Men are simple like that.

  Beth couldn’t understand how her petite friend could eat so much and stay so thin. It defied logic. All Beth had to do was look at a dish heaped with that much food and she would gain three pounds.

  “Do you have big plans for the summer?” Sarah asked as they ate. A radio played soft music in the background. Classics.

  “Nothing major,” Beth replied, nibbling on a carrot. “What about you?”

  “I’m traveling to Germany,” Sarah replied. “And backpacking.”

  “Alone?”

  “No, with Brad.”

  Brad was either boyfriend number two or three. Beth couldn’t remember which.

  “Really? I thought you dumped him?”

  Sarah blushed. “He’s persistent.”

  “That’s where you’re going tonight?”

  Sarah nodded, her blush deepening. It was, for sure, something she could do on command. She was incredibly good at playing innocent, even though they both knew she was anything but. Demure and beautiful. Beth tried not to hate her.

  “Good for you,” Beth said. “Are you coming back in the fall?”

  Sarah shrugged. “Maybe. I might take a year off from school, though.”

  “You only have one more to go.”

  “I know, but it seems like a waste of time. I like to do things. I can’t stand sitting around being unproductive and just learning about the world. I want to experience it.”

  Beth was silent, trying to decide if she was being insulted. She thought to point out that Sarah hadn’t learned much of anything—apart from bedroom activities—in her time at college, but decided against it. As far as she could tell, Sarah was being sincere. The insult was purely accidental.

  And probably defensive. No one liked to be told they were dumb. Or even below average. Sarah just wanted to demean something she wasn’t good at to justify her lack of ability and hard work.

  Beth could understand and even sympathize with her roommate. But that didn’t make her statement any less of a copout. Sarah didn’t like to do things. She just didn’t like to work hard. Life had been easy for her growing up. Her parents spoiled her, men spoiled her, and the thought of having to buckle down and do something for herself was daunting.

  She was used to life being easy. When something wasn’t, she gave up.

  Beth said: “I know what you mean…”

  Her voice trailed off as she glanced to the cafeteria entrance. Adam stood there wearing a thick plaid shirt and jeans, scanning. He was a big guy, well-built and strong, with dark hair and friendly eyes. He hadn’t shaved in a few days—probably since finals started—so he also looked somewhat rugged.

  Mostly, though, he seemed out of sorts and exhausted.

  He spotted her and immediately headed toward the table. He looked worried.

  Beth dropped her fork and stood up. “What’s wrong?”

  “There you are,” he said.

  “Adam? What is it?”

  He glanced over at Sarah. “Hi, Sarah,” he said, his voice deliberate.

  She took the hint and stood up. “Hello, Adam. I was just leaving.”

  “We can just—”

  “No, it’s alright. I was done anyway,” she said. Sarah turned to Beth. “I’ll be back in the room for a bit,” she said. “But remember, I’m going out tonight. You have the room all to yourself.”

  She shot Adam a lascivious grin as she said the last. Beth nodded, trying not to look too disgusted.

  Adam waited until she was gone. “Sorry,” he said.

  “You look terrible,” she said. “When’s the last time you slept?”

  “You aren’t exactly the picture of health yourself,” Adam said, then shook his head. “I just finished my math exam. I think I might have slept sometime last year.”

  “Adam…”

  “Jason called.”

  Beth coughed. “He what? Jason what?”

  “He called about twenty minutes ago. I went to your dorm but you weren’t there and—“

  “Why did he call?” Beth interrupted. Her mind was buzzing.

  “He called the University,” Adam said, an uneasy expression on his face.

  “They could have found me,” Beth said, shaking her head. “No one came by. I’ve been in my room all day.”

  Adam was silent, staring at the wall behind her. “He asked for me…”

  Beth narrowed her eyes. “Why?”

  Adam hesitated. “He didn’t think you would accept.”

  She couldn’t help it. She winced. “He knows its finals week. He might be right. I might have had them tell him to call me back later.”

  “That’s the problem,” Adam said, grimacing. “He only gets the one.”

  ***

  “Prison?”

  Adam nodded. “Marijuana.”

  Beth groaned. Suddenly her headache was much worse. “That’s the second time,” she said. Her stomach sank. “Why didn’t he call mom?”

  “He begged me not to tell Emily,” Adam replied. “Or you. He said you would worry.”

  “Of course we would worry! He’s doing drugs!” Beth said angrily, her voice a white-hot whisper.

  “I know,” Adam said.

  “Did you tell her?”

  “Not yet.”

  “You should have called her first.”

  “I—”

  “Are you trying to defend him?”

  Adam cringed away from her, refusing to meet her eyes.

  “I came straight here,” he said, his voice low.

  She let out a deep breath. “Sorry.”

  “It’s okay.”

  “No,” she replied. “I shouldn’t be taking it out on you. I’ll call her.”

  “Okay,” he said. She started to stand up, then realized Adam wasn’t done talking. He was still staring at the table. “What?”

  “He begged me not to tell you,” he said, “but he also asked me to come bail him out.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know,” he lied.

  She sighed. “Adam…” she intoned with as much disapproval as she could muster.

  “Money,” Adam replied quickly, finally looking up at her. He hated this, she knew. “He knows you and your parents don’t have enough money to bail him out and he didn’t want to burden you.”

  Beth sunk back into her seat. “This can’t be happening,” she mumbled.
Jason had already been to prison once for drugs. He’d promised to quit a dozen times and that he would get help twice. Lies, half-truths, and deceits.

  He didn’t care what this would do to his family emotionally. All he cared about was that they couldn’t afford it.

  “What do you want me to do?” Adam asked, his voice quiet.

  Beth glared at him, reminding herself—without success—that he wasn’t the one she was mad at.

  Her anger flashed. “Let the weasel rot,” she said, picking up her fork. Adam stared at her for a second and then started to stand up. “Wait, no.”

  He stopped, hovering between sitting and standing. She let out a deep sigh. She felt lost and confused. She was angry—so angry—at her brother. Her selfish little bastard of a brother…

  But…

  He was still her brother. And he needed help. She wouldn’t, couldn’t, just ignore him. Not if she really loved him.

  Damn it.

  “He’s right,” she said. “Emily and Calvin don’t have any money. I don’t have much either. How much was the bail?”

  “Two-hundred,” Adam said.

  Beth groaned. “Two-hundred?”

  “He’s a repeat offender,” Adam explained.

  “I don’t have that kind of money,” she said. “I barely even have fifty!”

  “It’s okay,” he said. “I have enough.”

  “No, Adam, I can’t—”

  He reached out and gently took her hand. “Beth, he called me. I want to help him. I really do. But I came to you first because you’re his sister and I l—” he started to say something, then stopped himself and shook his head “—it’s the right thing to do. If you want to do this then money isn’t the problem. I just need to know, do you want me to go get him or not?”

  She chewed her lip. “Yes,” she admitted. She didn’t want to leave him there. Asshole or not, he was still her brother. Her family. “Yes. I would like that.”

  Adam nodded and squeezed her hand. “Alright then. You go finish studying for your test, and I’ll go get your brother out of jail.”

  She shook her head. “No, I’m going too. I won’t be able to study now. Not with this on my mind. I’ll just bring my books. We’ll need to be back by tomorrow at three.”