Better Deeds Than Words (Words#2)

by Georgina Guthrie

  Dean Grant spoke softly, “I don’t know what’s happened to your moral compass. I don’t think I’ve ever been this disappointed in you, son.”

  “David.” Gwen’s voice was firmer this time, but he held up a hand to her.

  “After everything we went through in England to clear your name. The money we spent, the heartache of it all. You asked us to believe you unequivocally, and we did because we’re your parents and we love you unconditionally. But for you to do something like this? It makes me think twice about—”

  “David, that’s enough.” Gwen dropped her hand from her husband’s shoulder and looked at her son, concern etched in her face. “Daniel?”

  Daniel was rubbing his shoulder. His face was ashen and contorted in pain. He seemed to be having trouble breathing. Oh my God—was he having a heart attack or something? He bowed forward in his chair as Gwen rounded the desk.

  “I can’t…I can’t,” he gasped.

  I jumped out of my seat, but Gwen knelt in front of Daniel, effectively blocking my access to him.

  “I know, breathe, darling, just breathe slowly, that’s it.” She took his hand and rubbed it vigorously. “David, has this happened recently that you know of?” she asked, turning to her husband.

  Has what happened recently? What the hell was going on? What was wrong with him? I was rooted to the spot, helplessly wringing my hands.

  David moved to stand behind his wife. “No, I don’t think so, at least not that he’s confided in me. Which I’m becoming aware means nothing…”

  I felt invisible all of a sudden. No one seemed to remember that I was standing there. They were so nonchalant. What the hell?

  “What’s going on? Daniel? Are you all right?” I said, trying to control the panic in my voice. Daniel didn’t respond. He was bent forward, wheezing. “Is he okay?” I asked Dean Grant, my eyes darting back and forth between them.

  Daniel was oblivious to my presence, one hand in his mother’s clasped fingers, the other on his chest as he panted helplessly.

  “Shouldn’t we call an ambulance or something?” I suggested, my voice verging on hysterical.

  Why were we all just watching Daniel as he fought to fill his lungs? A serious asthma attack—that’s what this looked like to me. Standing around while he struggled to breathe was absurd and cruel. I leaned over the desk and picked up the phone receiver. Dean Grant took it gently from my hand and hung up.

  “Aubrey, no. It’s all right. That won’t be necessary. Gwen, I’m going to get Aubrey out of here. You deal with Daniel.”

  “No! I’m not leaving—I can’t leave! Not now!” I wanted to be the one holding his hand. I had to stay to make sure he was okay. How could I possibly leave him when he needed me?

  But then Daniel motioned with his hand for me to go. He was rocking back and forth and waving me off, not looking at me, but dismissing me with a gesture that said, Get out. I took a few stunned steps backward, terribly hurt.

  Dean Grant placed his hand under my elbow. “I’ll close the office for the morning and put a sign up. Perhaps I’ll see if Gisele can come in early. You can go home. Don’t worry. Gwen and I will take good care of Daniel.”

  I walked woodenly toward the door. I didn’t want to go home, but how could I possibly stay? It wasn’t just his parents that wanted me out. Daniel didn’t want me there, either. I glanced over my shoulder at him. His mother was rubbing his back and whispering to him. How could he dismiss me like that, knowing how I felt about him?

  “Is he okay? Is he going to be okay?” I asked as we walked out of the office. I could barely formulate words. Dean Grant had taken my jacket off the coat rack and was helping me put it on.

  “He’s going to be fine. His mother and I have dealt with this many times,” he said dismissively.

  This what? What is this?

  He was speaking cautiously and ambiguously, purposefully drawing a line around his family, stacking up the fence posts. I stood on the other side. The message was clear: This is our business, not yours. You’re an outsider. I was crushed, but I knew I didn’t have a leg to stand on. He’d asked me to stay away from his son, and I’d flagrantly ignored his request.

  I grabbed my knapsack, and he led me out of the office. Actually, dragged might have been a more appropriate term. After locking the outer doors behind him, he helped me down the steps and held the front door for me. I stood on the pavement, squinting as the sun glinted off the snow. Dean Grant’s eyes bored into me, and I shrank under his gaze, averting my eyes and staring blankly at the southern face of Old Vic.

  “To say I’m disappointed would hardly do justice to my feelings at this moment, Aubrey,” he said. As I looked back at him, his expression softened slightly. “I’ve come to think very highly of you. I’ve always admired your level-headedness and maturity. It’s hard for me to believe you’d allow this to happen.”

  It took everything in me to contain my emotions as I was suddenly transported back in time—I was sixteen years old, and my mother was lecturing me about how foolish it was to experiment with smoking.

  “I’m sorry, Dean Grant. I don’t know how this happened. Daniel and I—we gradually became closer and closer. Your son is a wonderful man. We enjoy each other’s company. I suppose we allowed ourselves to believe we weren’t hurting anyone.”

  “That’s a very dangerous misconception. If anyone were to find out how close you are, Daniel could end up getting very hurt. It’s crucial for him to maintain his distance. You must know what happened to him last year? I gather he’s confided in you?”

  “Yes, sir. I know all about Oxford.”

  “Then surely you understand? You realize I’m not being unreasonable?”

  I nodded. I’d never felt so ashamed.

  “I need your word. You have to promise me here and now that you won’t do anything that could hurt him.”

  I looked into his eyes levelly. “I promise.”

  “Are you telling me the truth this time, Aubrey?”

  This time.

  “I’d rather die than hurt Daniel. I guess I got caught up in my feelings for him. I really do care about your son, sir.”

  He looked at me soberly. “If you mean that, you’ll need to cease all personal contact. I have no idea what the extent of this relationship is. Frankly, I’m afraid to think what’s going on between you two. But I need you to cut everything off now—preferably until graduation, but at the very least for the next six weeks. That means no phone calls, no emails, and absolutely no visiting outside of the confines of the course. You might even consider taking your office hours with Professor Brown and not with Daniel. No point in making things more difficult for yourself.”

  I gestured back to the office. “Wait, Daniel—is he—”

  “He’ll be fine. We’ll take care of him, don’t worry. I know it looks bad, but in about fifteen minutes he’ll be fine.” He rubbed his face in exasperation. “As much of a mess as this is, Aubrey, I’m glad I’m the one who found out and not someone else. If one of your classmates or Professor Brown had discovered…I can’t even entertain the idea. Look, I should get back inside.”

  “Okay,” I said, my voice small and hollow.

  What else could I say? He was right. I’d screwed up. Well, we’d screwed up. I certainly wasn’t accepting full responsibility for the situation.

  “You go on home. I’ll see you on Monday. We’ll talk more about how to proceed after the weekend.”

  So, that was it? I was supposed to go home as if nothing untoward had happened? He opened the door and left me standing there. Yep. I was dismissed. I watched him climb the steps and disappear into the far reaches of the office.

  I turned slowly. People passed me, going about their routines—rushing off to class, meeting friends for coffee, running errands. There was no way I could join them or carry on with my day without knowing Daniel was okay.

  I cut across the wide path between Northrop Frye Hall and Old Vic and jogged lightly up the south steps. I wo
uld wait. I would stand inside the door’s archway and wait for them to come out.

  And so I stood. I watched. I waited. Fifteen minutes went by, and no one emerged. My feet were getting cold, and my ears started to ache. I ducked inside the large wooden doors of Old Vic, peering out the window beside the door. I nibbled my nails impatiently, checked my phone for texts, even read a few random emails and Facebook comments. Another fifteen minutes, and still nothing. What the hell?

  By ten forty-five, I started to get exasperated. I couldn’t stand there all day. I would, just to know that Daniel was all right, but I did have a class to go to and a test to write. How would I be able to concentrate on a stupid midterm while I was worrying about Daniel?

  I tapped my foot and continued to watch people walking between the two buildings. Screw it. I had to know. Without stopping to consider the consequences, I dashed across to the opposite building, running up the main stairs. The office lights had been turned off. There was a sign on the glass door that read, “Closed until 12:00.” Peering through the glass, I considered letting myself in to make sure they were gone, but I didn’t need to. I could tell they were no longer inside. How could they have left without me seeing them? Regardless of which exit they’d used, I would have seen them make their way to Dean Grant’s car.

  Then I remembered the underground passageway. Of course! That’s the way they must have left, literally walking beneath me and most likely exiting through the west doors of Old Vic which led to the administrative parking area.

  I ran outside, jogging to Old Vic’s west exit. There were tracks in the snow, three clear sets of footprints coming down the steps and veering around to the north side of the building. Daniel had made it out of the building in one piece and presumably under his own steam. The asthma attack, or whatever it had been, had passed. I followed the footprints to where they stopped. Sure enough, all three sets of prints led to Dean Grant’s parking spot. His car was gone.

  I stood there for a few moments, then turned and started to go back to residence. What else could I do? Daniel was with his parents. Perhaps they were going to stay with him for a while to make sure he recovered. Maybe they’d take him home so he could get the things he’d need for the afternoon and return him to campus in time for class, which was a little over an hour away.

  Regardless of the fact that he didn’t have his phone—and certainly contrary to his father’s wishes—I had to at least let Daniel know how concerned I was. As I crossed the quad, I typed a long text message.

  I’m so sorry about what happened this morning.

  I hope you’re okay.

  You freaked me out with the crazy breathing thing.

  What the hell was that?

  It kind of hurt my feelings knowing you didn’t want me to stay.

  Has your dad calmed down? He’s not happy with me.

  We need to talk about all of this.

  Maybe a quick chat after tutorial? -A

  I read the message over a couple of times and then sent it. Now I’d have to wait. I let myself into the apartment. Matt was home. Music blared from his room. I kicked off my boots and dropped my coat and bag on the floor beside them, escaping to my room and closing the door behind me. I needed to be alone.

  I surveyed my room, and there, silently mocking me, was my packed suitcase. I stood for a moment, sadly looking at it before unzipping the top flap. My beautiful new dress lay carefully folded on top. I lifted it out and sat on the edge of the bed, touching the soft fabric to my face, finally allowing myself the luxury of tears.

  Chapter 10

  Alone

  Let me confess that we two must be twain,

  Although our undivided loves are one:

  So shall those blots that do with me remain

  Without thy help by me be borne alone.

  (Sonnet 36)

  AN HOUR LATER, I dragged my ass through the doors of the classroom, spurred on by the hope that, even though he hadn’t responded to my text, Daniel would be sitting at the front of the room, relaxed and casual as always.

  He wasn’t.

  Thanks to my meltdown at the apartment and the subsequent half hour it had taken me to get my shit back together, I was one of the last to arrive in the room. Test papers were arranged face down on every other desk, and Professor Brown was writing instructions on the chalkboard. Julie waved me over and moved her bag off the seat two away from hers. I quickly sat down, and she looked at me, frowning.

  “You scared the shit out of me. I thought you weren’t gonna make it,” she hissed.

  “Yeah. Crazy morning,” I whispered back.

  She questioned me with her eyes, but there wasn’t time to explain. Professor Brown was standing behind the podium, rubbing the chalk dust off his hands.

  “Well, then, ladies and gentlemen. I suppose we’ll get started. Friday’s seminar group, you’ll need to pick up an extra assignment sheet from me at the end of class. I received a phone call from Dean Grant over at Vic. Daniel’s a little under the weather and won’t be able to conduct tutorial today.”

  Julie raised her eyebrow at me while Professor Brown sat in Daniel’s usual spot. “Keep in mind, Daniel will be assessing these tests,” he told us. “I certainly hope none of you have gotten on his bad side,” he said with a playful smile.

  Daniel doesn’t have a bad side, I thought wistfully.

  Forty-odd test papers rustled as everyone picked up their question sheets and answer booklets, flipping the pages open. I read over the whole test before starting. I recognized all of the quotations and had a firm handle on the context, meaning, and significance of each one. The hardest part would be deciding which five of the seven quotations to analyze. I brought my thoughts into focus, trying to put Daniel out of my mind. It wasn’t easy, but in a way, I was actually writing to Daniel. I wanted him to be proud of me. I wanted him to read my work and be blown away by my answers.

  I got lost in the test. To be honest, it was a relief to escape from the burden of my mortification over having so thoroughly disappointed Dean Grant. I wrote steadily, comforted by the knowledge that I was kicking the test’s ass.

  At quarter to one, Professor Brown gave us the fifteen minute warning. I glanced over at Julie. She was re-reading her test, gnawing on the end of her pen.

  I was almost at that point, finishing up my analysis of the Antony and Cleopatra quotation. A few moments later, I was reviewing my answers, inserting missed words where my brain had moved more quickly than my pen. People around me began gathering belongings.

  I waited for Julie to finish, and soon we were both handing in our tests and picking up the seminar assignment sheet before exiting quietly.

  “That was a piece of cake,” Julie whispered as she pulled on her coat.

  “I know, eh?” I followed her down the hall.

  She grabbed my arm, hooking her hand into the crook of my elbow and speeding down the stairs.

  “Whoa, where’s the frickin’ fire?” I asked.

  “Sorry, I’m just super glad this seminar got canceled. Not that I’m happy Daniel’s sick, but I have so much to do before Jer picks me up.”

  “What’s going on, anyway?” I asked her. “Where are you guys going?”

  “Windsor—we’re going to Windsor. Jeremy wants to meet my parents! I’m so excited I could puke!”

  “Holy crap! This is serious! You’ve only been going out for a few weeks.”

  “I told him it seemed too soon, and he told me not to be dramatic. He wants to see where I grew up and meet my parents because that’ll help him understand me better.”

  “Holy swoon!”

  “I know!” She hopped from one foot to the other.

  It was adorable and aggravating all at the same time. I wanted my relationship with Daniel to be this exciting—this normal.

  “Is he staying at your parents’ place with you?”

  “Yeah, in the guestroom.”

  “You be careful, missy. First it’s a smidge here and a smidge there,
and the next thing you know…”

  She laughed. “I know. Things are getting intense, but he’s so cool with it, Aubrey. Jesus, I’m so lucky.”

  Are you ever. I swallowed my bitterness and smiled, doing my best to feel happy for her.

  “What’s up with you, though?” she asked. “How come you were almost late for class?”

  I hesitated. I didn’t want to spew my misery all over her. She was so damned happy, and it’s not like there was anything she could do. Plus, she didn’t even have time to hang around listening to my tale of woe.

  “You know what, sweets? It was just a chaotic morning. No worries. You go do your thing.”

  “Okay, if you’re sure…”

  “I’m sure. Get out of here.”

  She hugged me and looked at me warily before taking a couple of steps away.

  “Hey, tell Daniel I said I hope he’s okay?”

  “I will.”

  If he ever speaks to me again.

  Even though I’d resolutely refused to unpack my suitcase, by nine o’clock that night it was clear that my trip with Daniel was not meant to be. I’d heard nothing from him.

  It had also become obvious that Matt had been entertaining company the night before. I wished he would come home so I could ask him about the blond hairs I’d found on the vanity in the bathroom and the lipstick-smudged tissues in the wastebasket.

  Sarah had long blond hair. Was it possible they’d gotten back together? Wouldn’t that be ironic? Things between Daniel and me were falling apart, and Matt was back on track with Sarah. I’d have laughed if I hadn’t been so incredibly miserable.

  Matt had left a note on top of my suitcase telling me to have a great time up north and to be careful. I wasn’t sure if he was counseling me to avoid a broken leg or a broken heart. Of course, he had no idea I wasn’t going up north now. I hadn’t seen him after this morning’s disaster. He’d been holed up in his room during the hour I’d been home, music blasting the entire time, presumably entertaining his lady friend. And now he was out, perhaps with her again.