by Chana Keefer
“Sure not the way it looked!”
“That’s not fair!”
“Well, you tell me what people shoulda thought… ”
“So you don’t believe me! You don’t believe Sky?”
“I appreciate that he tried to fix his mistakes, but it was too late. You shoulda been more careful… aw, that’s not the point!”
Everything he said ripped me in two. Finally, following more pointless shouting, we rode in icy silence. Dad’s hands gripped the steering wheel, his jaw rippling as he ground his teeth. The trip to school had never taken so long.
How could I explain to my father what happened that night? I had finally discovered someone I truly wanted to open my heart to. But, could it have been casual flirtation on Sky’s part? And the obvious question; was I a star-struck fool? It hurt too much to dwell on that one.
At the dorm, we parted without a word.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
I entered the dorm feeling very different from the nervous girl who raced out Friday afternoon. So little time had passed, but everything had changed. I’d endured a boot camp on the range of emotions one body could survive in two days.
I rounded the corner to my hallway and collided with a laundry-laden Danielle, my neighbor from across the hall. Danielle was one of those popular girls who seem to fit in with everyone. She was in one of the most desired sororities and, with her shiny, shoulder length black hair and natural beauty, she moved through the college scene with the greatest of ease.
“Esther!” she yelled in surprise. “Just the girl I want to see! Step into my office.” She ushered me into her dorm room. Her “office” was the community hub of our wing of the dorm and, as usual, several girls, all of whom turned wide, curious eyes in my direction, hung out in the small quarters.
When I saw the crowd, I pulled back in the doorway. She picked up on it, giving the command, “Alright girls, private conference. Everybody out!” Then she proceeded to make comments to each retreating co-ed. “Catch ya later. Here’s that blouse I borrowed. Thanks! I’ll show ya my notes for the test tomorrow,” etc. until we were alone.
She plopped down the laundry basket and turned to face me. “You’ve been a popular girl,” she said with a grin. “Not ten minutes ago another reporter came through lookin’ for you.”
I sat heavily on the edge of her bed.
“It was even worse yesterday,” she continued, “You certainly picked the right time to disappear.”
“They found me,” I said wearily. “My parents’ house was under siege.”
“That bad, huh?” She sounded sympathetic, but her eyes gleamed.
“Look, Danielle, I haven’t even gone to my room yet. Do ya mind?” I gestured with the stuff in my hands.
“I’m so sorry.” She grabbed one of the bags I juggled. “Marti’s dyin’ ta see you.” She went to the door, peeked up and down the hall and led the way across.
Marti, who was flopped across the bed when we entered, rushed to me. “Esther. Ohmigosh! You have no idea what’s been going on around here! I feel like I’m best friends with a celebrity or somethin’!” She stopped in her tracks and took a look at my face. “Good Lord. You look like somebody just ran over your dawg.”
Next thing I knew, I was given a “Marti bear hug,” my arms were unloaded and I was ushered to one of the two wooden chairs in the room. I guess the people who bought permanent furniture for dorm rooms figured uncomfortable equaled more efficient study.
I looked around with new eyes. There was my little twin bed with one of Grandmother Min’s patchwork quilts on it, the little armrest pillow I sat in so often to catch up on assignments, and our dinky refrigerator humming away containing the vital ingredients for a decent P B & J. My closet door stood stubbornly ajar due to the too-large suitcase stored there.
I pulled open the door revealing the poster of Sky hanging on the inside. Eyes looked into mine… hair, perfectly tousled as if he was fresh from… a hay fight. I took the poster down and began rolling it up.
“Oh my,” Danielle exclaimed. “Was it that bad?”
“The two-dimensional version doesn’t measure up, that’s all,” I said.
“So what happened?”
“I can tell you what didn’t happen,” I answered, “though I’m beginning to think I’ll need a doctor’s testimony to prove it.”
“You know,” Danielle added, “those pictures did look pretty intimate and I’ve heard from some people who were at the concert that you guys had a chemistry goin’ that scorched ‘em in the nosebleed sections. Man, that must have been amazing!”
I had to smile at the memory. I could see his face so close to mine, those gray-blue eyes dipping into my soul.
“Look at that,” Danielle mused, “she’s got daydream material ‘til kingdom come. Girl, you better share!”
I shook myself back to reality. “The news stories covered it pretty well, don’tcha think?”
“C’mon!” urged Danielle. “What was he like? Spill it Esther or so help me I’ll drag it out of you.”
I didn’t want to say too much. I was feeling pretty stingy with our few private moments since the rest had been splattered over the countryside.
“He was fun and the perfect gentleman.” I paused. “And I almost wish he hadn’t been so I could just write him off as a jerk and forget him.”
“Oh come on,” stated Marti emphatically. “You can’t mean that. You get to have the dream date and you’re expecting us to feel sorry for you?” She flashed an impish grin. “Uh-uh. Not gonna happen.”
I felt like a zoo exhibit with curious eyes watching my every move. I bolted out of the chair. “I’ve got a paper to do.
“But we need details!” whined Danielle.
“Sorry, it’ll have to wait.” I sorted through books and supplies. Danielle left the room after demanding full disclosure later. The door closed behind her and I turned to Marti, glad we could finally be alone. She crossed the room to throw her arms around my neck.
“Party girl! You had me worried sick. When that Chloe gal told me Sky was takin’ you home I freaked out. Ya didn’t even have yer shoes. And then, ohmigosh! Then I saw the papers and ya’ll were all over ‘em! I called ya last night but your mom said you were already asleep. I’ve been dyin’ here!”
We had a quick debriefing of the concert night. I kept my story simple, trying to steer Marti back to her own activities. It didn’t work.
“Ya know I can see right through you to China.” She grinned. “I’ve been waitin’ a long time for this. You’ve got it bad, girl!”
Denial was useless. I shut my eyes and drew a deep breath. “Oh Marti. There were moments that were just… magic. I never knew I could feel like this.”
“That’s great.” She gave me another quick hug and smiled without meeting my eyes. I knew that look only too well.
“What?”
“Aw, nothin.”
“Spill it, Marti.”
“Well,” she bit a nail, a habit she had kicked in high school, “I’m just kinda worried, that’s all.”
“Look at me. I survived. I’m fine.”
“Yeah, well everyone enjoys cloud nine. I just don’t wanna see you get hurt.”
Oh great. This conversation was beginning to sound way too familiar. “Why would you think that?”
“Just some stuff I heard. Prob-ly shouldn’t say.”
I’d heard that line before and not once had it prevented her from “saying.” I took the bait. “What?”
“Well, I was talkin’ to Adam so I know he didn’t think I would hear, but Jake was laughing about how it seemed like old times.”
“What seemed like old times?”
“Well…”
I thought I’d scream if she started out with ‘well’ and raised her eyebrows again, her way of heightening the suspense when sharing something spicy.
“He said, ‘Looks like Sky’s got him a little filly from the farm.’ See, this was right after Chloe told me you left wit
h Sky. Anyway, Jake said he had a feelin’ if Sky expected a wild time, he would be disappointed since he, Jake that is, could tell a ‘sweet tease’ a mile away.”
I was silent as images of a “wild time” flicked through my mind like cancer and cloud nine dropped me with a thud.
“I’m sorry, Hon, but did you really think Sky was pure as the driven snow or somethin’?”
I didn’t know what to think, but I did know I didn’t want to talk anymore. “Happy?” A monster churned in my gut.
“Whaddaya mean?”
“You got your wish. Sky’s not so perfect. Wasn’t that what you were hopin’ for?”
“Ya don’t have to get ugly about it.” She turned away.
I grabbed my backpack off the bed. “By the way, thanks for bringin’ my stuff home the other night.”
“What’re friends for?” She kept her back to me as I headed for the door. Her voice came again, careful and quiet. “I mean, it was exciting and all, but you didn’t really think you’d, like, have a real relationship or somethin’ did ya?”
I hesitated with my hand on the door; one more dagger to the heart, just what I needed.
“I mean, those guys were fun, but they’re in a completely different world.”
Something inside was dying. It felt like I’d been freed from jail, breathed the fresh air, only to be shoved back in with a “Just kidding!” The fear and frustration boiled over.
“All right! I get it! I’m gullible, and… and naïve and stupid enough to believe in… in fantasies! Is that what you need to hear? Just think. You can look forward to saying ‘I told ya so!’”
I’d never yelled at her before. I felt guilty, but not guilty enough to hear more logic. “Look, I’ve got work to do. I’ll be late.” I walked out the door with the picture of Marti’s shocked face etched on my mind.
I was glad to hide in a cubicle in the journalism building and fill my mind with something… else. The latest feature story for Dr. Morgan lay open beside me in all its red-inked glory, the word “YAWN” scrawled through the entire second page. It dealt with Richard Harvey, a guy in his seventies who was heading up the restoration of the city’s courthouse. The subject matter was dry, but I knew if I could capture the passion this man had for his work, it would come alive.
Standing over the hundred-year-old weather vane, he had shown me how the correct chemicals could remove years of weathering and neglect. He had laughed, his face wreathed in wrinkles, “Now, if only it was that easy for us.” His watery eyes twinkled. “Why, I’d be so beautiful again, I’d make the ladies cry.”
If only my story could be as entertaining as Mr. Harvey.... I spent the next three hours with one of Dr. Morgan’s favorite sayings ringing in my ears, “Rewrite, rewrite, rewrite. Anything else is just typing.”
I could see the jovial Mr. Harvey so clearly as he demonstrated the cleaning process. “Now, if it’s quality metal, it’ll be able to withstand this harsher solution, but it’s always smart to give it a test rub where it won’t show.”
He turned his wrinkled face toward me, “And, if there’s the makings of a good relationship, hard times will only make it brighter. You just wait and see… ” Mr. Harvey’s image grew blurry until I was looking into Sky’s eyes as we danced around a darkened stage. His face was so clear as he drew me closer, his breath warm on my ear, “Trust me.”
“Esther! Esther! Wake up.” Someone was shaking my shoulder. I jumped and sat upright, realizing I had fallen asleep on my notes. I glanced up groggily at the thick glasses and grin of Roland, our student editor for the campus paper.
“Oh wow,” I mumbled. “What time is it?” I wiped at the drool on my cheek.
“About eleven thirty,” he replied, leaning on the desk beside me. What are you sleeping, uh, working on?”
I looked at the screen to find a steady stream of ppppppp’s. “It’s a feature for Dr. Morgan. Not a good sign if it puts me to sleep.”
“Where’s the original?” he asked. I dug out the blood-slashed document. He looked it over a moment, “Brutal. When’s it due?”
“Tomorrow.” I tried to re-focus on the blurred words.
“Look, I’m about to leave if you want an escort back to the dorm. You nearly got shut in for the night. Can you be ready in ten?”
I agreed, got rid of the letters typed in my sleep and looked over the revisions. It wasn’t Tolstoy, but it was a vast improvement.
I grabbed the new version from the printer and we headed out the door. The cool night air was reviving.
He broke the silence as we passed under moonlit trees, “You’ve been makin’ a bit of your own news. By the way, great dance at the concert.”
“You were there?”
“Oh yeah, one of the perks of the job. You learn how to make calls to the right people. ‘Hello, I’m Roland Franklin, editor of the Daily, yada, yada…. ’ My seats weren’t as good as yours, but they were free.”
“You’ll have to show me your phone technique. Coulda saved a heap of trouble.”
“Sure. Us underpaid reporters gotta stick together. Here, let me get that for you.” He shifted my backpack to his shoulder. “In fact, you can start your assignment as my new ace entertainment reporter right now. I’ll bet an exclusive, inside look at the life of a superstar like Sky would clear our papers out in no time.”
My pace began to slow but he didn’t even notice.
“Probably have to run a second edition to meet demand. The Associated Press might even pick it up. Be a huge chunk of press for the school.” He finally realized no one was walking beside him. “Hey, where’d ya… ”
He walked back to face me, the excited, calculating expression evident in the light of a streetlamp. “How many students get the opportunity to write a story for national media?”
“I can’t do that.”
“Come on, Esther,” he put a hand on my shoulder, “you wanna be a reporter, right? Think of gettin’ your name out there as something besides some chick who had a fling with Sky.”
“So… being a fink is better?”
“No, you’re lookin’ at it all wrong. You’ll be the one writing what people believe. That’s the power of the press, babe! Unless, that is, you’re okay with what they believe right now…. ” He paused, smiling at his own logic. “So, I can expect the story by tomorrow afternoon?”
I admit the thought was enticing. It was a chance to quit playing the victim. It was also a chance to steamroll over people who trusted me for the sake of “news.”
“No.”
I watched his reaction, a combo of unbelief and anger that settled into smug amusement. “What? You’re gonna protect him?” He gave an explosive laugh. “Boy do you need to grow up.”
We started walking again as Roland mumbled, “Man, these musicians have it all. Throw a smile at a girl and she’s ready to bear your children.”
We reached my dorm and I started to go in. “Wait.” Roland pulled a notepad and pen out of his shirt pocket. “Here’s my number. Call me when you get past the whole feminine, emotional thing. Don’t take too long though, old news and all…. ”
He was suddenly studying the shrubbery. “Wait a minute.” He shot out an arm to part the bushes, emerging with his hand attached to a young man with a camera. “Holden? What are you doing?”
The guy stood up, stammering, “I was just, ya know, tryin’ to get a local scoop on the story… didn’t expect you.”
“Well I sure as hell won’t be on the front page of my own paper!” he yanked Holden out of the bushes.
Once free of the foliage, Holden gave a quick, “Sorry.” before scurrying into the night.
“Have a problem with being the next gossip item?” I returned some of his smugness. “Might boost sales.”
“Yeah, well, might not boost anything with my girlfriend.”
I shook my head, “I know—that whole feminine, emotional thing.” I loved the way he winced at those words as he turned away.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
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My class schedule was arranged in such a way that I could be finished by noon, leaving the afternoons free for modeling pursuits. Unfortunately, that meant struggling out of bed at an ungodly hour as Marti once again pulled a pillow over her head to shut out the glare of the bulb over our sink.
On this day, however, I was grateful for the opportunity to get breakfast and run to class at an hour when most students were too groggy to care about my weekend activities.
My first class was math. As expected, the numbers were one big, ugly jumble. An hour later I headed toward Biology, a huge class held in a sort of amphitheater. I looked forward to the relative obscurity of the darkened setting devoid of a single computation.
Danielle shared this class with me so I usually sat with her and a couple of her sorority sisters who were nice enough although a bit “perfect” for a nine a.m. class.
As I approached, her sorority sisters, who usually didn’t pay me much mind, called endearing greetings. Danielle just winked and indicated the seat next to her.
“Freshmen,” she whispered with a grin and roll of her eyes.
The teacher for the class went over what needed to be reviewed for the next week’s final. Finals! I was going to need my head in the game for those.
Afterwards, I dropped by the Student Building for a snack of my favorite frozen yogurt before running by the Journalism Department to polish the paper for Dr. Morgan.
I exited the Student Building juggling my treat in one hand with the backpack dangling from my shoulder. I still had forty-five minutes until the start of Feature Writing, which I figured was enough time to allow a five-minute break in the courtyard. I backed out the door and found myself in the midst of a group of Sigma Taus, the most popular Fraternity on campus where only the richest, most handsome, or at least most charming, need apply. I tried to slip through, but a hand gripped my shoulder. I peered up and found myself face-to-face with the carefully highlighted hair and chiseled features of Devin Graves, reigning king of the Sigma Taus.