by Lisa Lutz
Mick sat down on the other side. Both of those buffoons had their arms around me and they were smiling. If you took a snapshot and published it in the yearbook, everyone would think we were the best of friends.
“Good man,” Mick said. “Confession will cleanse your soul.”
“I’ve got nothing to confess,” I said.
I really wanted to confess. I just didn’t want to get beat up or have my mattress turned into a urinal. I said nothing.
“I know why you did it,” Adam said. “You thought if you helped out the girls, played the white knight, it might finally get you some pussy.”
“And what man could blame you for that?” Mick said.
“Yeah,” said Jack. “Pussy is everything.”
Jack was standing right in front of me, playing the goon.
“But it didn’t work out that way, did it?” Adam said. “You’re just their girlfriend now, one of them. Don’t despair. I’m sure you’ll get lucky by the end of college. She may have a unibrow, an ass the size of Kentucky, and a wandering eye, but you’ll love her all the same.”
These meatheads were laughing their asses off.
“At least the girls like me,” I said. “You should hear the way they talk about you dickheads when you’re not around. You know they have their own Darkroom.”
I was just riffing at that point. I realized I would get a beatdown no matter what, and I wanted the pain to be worth it.
“They gave up ranking sexual performance because no one was ever satisfied. Mostly they just make fun of how bad you all are in bed, and sometimes they compare dick notes—”
I don’t remember what I said after that. It was Jack who landed the first punch to my gut. I doubled over and curled up on the floor. Mick did a karate chop to my ribs. I thought I heard something crack. The pain wasn’t as bad as the anticipation of the next blow.
I heard Jonah tell them to stop.
“It was me,” Jonah said. “I let them in. I gave them my password. I told Gemma everything she wanted to know.”
I remember it went really quiet. I opened my eyes and saw Jonah in the doorway, his hands balled into fists, ready to fight. Adam stood up and faced Jonah.
“Let me take this one, boys,” Adam said.
In a fair fight, Jonah would destroy Adam, but Mick and Jack gripped Jonah’s arms so Adam could kick him in the balls. Jonah doubled over. Jack and Mick dragged him into the hallway to finish the job.
I texted Tom and Jerry. I don’t know what I thought they’d do.
The editors were tucked away in their rooms when Gemma, Mel, Kate, Emelia, and Tegan showed up. I still couldn’t get used to their shaved heads. If that wasn’t scary enough, both Gemma and Emelia carried axes over their shoulders. Emelia swung her weapon against Adam’s door, leaving a giant gaping crevice.
The girls took Jonah to the infirmary, where he wouldn’t tell anyone what happened. After that, Mel came into my room. I was still in a lot of pain, but I didn’t want to answer any questions. I just wanted to sleep. I told Mel to go home. She closed the door, locked it, and shoved Calvin’s desk in front of the door. She was stronger than she looked.
“Go to sleep, Norman. I’ll protect you,” she said, sliding into bed next to me.
I know I should have felt like a wuss having a girl come to my rescue.
I didn’t care.
Ms. Witt
Norman limped into class, head down, holding his side. He took a seat in row 3, aisle 2, still on the boys’ side, but adjacent to Mel. And yet, the class divide seemed more pronounced. The silence had a strange simmering quality to it. I heard only one conversation between the warring parties.
Nick: Don’t be like that, sweetheart.
Emelia: You’re lucky I didn’t burn your dick off.
Jonah was notably absent. I asked the class if he was sick.
“He’s in the infirmary,” Gemma said, holding her gaze on Adam.
There was endless tapping. I would have confiscated their phones if I didn’t think it would cause a mutiny.
There was no point in starting a lecture or a class discussion. Everyone had shut down. I told them to work on their projects in silence. It occurred to me, not for the first time, that I wasn’t doing much teaching. I think my longest lecture at Stonebridge was on the blowchart. The idea of quitting returned with a vengeance.
I asked Gemma to hang back after class.
“The situation looks dire,” I said.
“It’s a long-overdue reckoning. It will take the boys some time to adjust to their new world. It might even get worse before it gets better.”
“Please don’t say that. What can I do?”
“Nothing.”
During my free period, I went to the infirmary to visit Jonah.
By the look of him, it wasn’t a fair fight. The nurse informed me that Jonah had spent the night in the hospital as a precaution against a concussion. He had a black eye and a split lip and other injuries that I couldn’t see.
I didn’t bother to ask what happened. He wouldn’t have answered.
“Are you going to tell me what the other guy looks like?” I said.
“Abbreviated forehead, beady eyes, can’t breathe with a closed mouth. Not a scratch on him, I’m afraid to say.”
I reached into my bag and brought out a jar of peanut butter and a large block of chocolate.
“The chocolate and PB are from the teachers’ larder. We get better stuff than you,” I said.
“Thanks,” he said, putting the food on the end table.
“I heard you were on the right side,” I said. “I’m proud of you.”
“Don’t be,” he said. “I’m not sure I helped because it was right. I did it for a girl.”
“Maybe it was for both reasons,” I said.
“Maybe.”
“If you need anything, you know where to find me.”
“Thanks, Ms. Witt.”
I visited Greg’s office after that. The discord between the boys and girls was impossible to miss. When I told him about the Darkroom and the contest, he listened intently, as if I were delivering a thorny philosophical lecture. When I was done, Greg closed his eyes and rubbed his temples.
“I had no idea there were so many…what’s the word I’m looking for?” Greg said.
“Douchebags,” I said.
“Yes. That’s it,” Greg said. “We’ll need a contingency plan if the tension doesn’t deescalate. I suppose we could separate the classes between boys and girls. It would require a massive restructuring of the schedule and there would be some academic casualties, but it’s better than having students try to learn in an overtly hostile environment.”
Greg looked tired and older, and I couldn’t help but feel guilty.
“There’s only a few days until break,” I said. “Then they’ll have two weeks to cool down.”
I figured the new year would be a fresh start. Teenagers were resilient, right?
* * *
—
I hadn’t seen Claude since our afternoon at Hemingway’s. I was surprised when I saw her text on Wednesday evening.
Claude: Meet me inside Keats Studio in 15. There’s something important I need to show you.
Claude: Be quiet when you enter.
I was in bed reading, about to turn off the light. Curiosity got the best of me. And, frankly, I hoped to talk with her about the current state of affairs. I didn’t bother getting dressed. I just threw on a coat over my pajamas and slipped into my rain boots. I strode across Fleming Square. There was virtually no sound coming from Woolf and Dickens. And only a few lights shone from inside. The campus felt eerily deserted. I followed the unlit path to the studios.
I entered Keats without a word, as instructed. I didn’t consider the oddness of the request until
later. The lights were out. I couldn’t see much. As my eyes adjusted to the dark, I realized there was someone against the far wall. I couldn’t tell what I was looking at. I searched for the light switch by the door. As the fluorescent bulbs ignited, I saw them. It was all too bright. I would have done almost anything to never see what I saw.
Adam stood in the corner of the room, staring right at me, his mouth twisted in a sneer. On her knees in front of him was Claude. She was—
“Oh my God, oh my God,” she said, shielding her face from the light.
I didn’t say anything. I turned around and ran. I felt sick, dizzy, and my head began to throb. As I climbed the stairs to my apartment, I could barely catch my breath.
I remembered my first meeting with Claude. How perfect I thought she was. What great friends I thought we’d become.
Back in the apartment, I took a glass and a bottle of bourbon to bed. I knew I wouldn’t sleep that night. I poured one drink after the next. I didn’t care how I would feel the next day. I just wanted to take the edge off the entire world. It was my drunken mind that kept coming back to that first introduction.
Hi. I’m Claudine Shepherd.
Claudine. It’s not a name you hear very often. Claudine.
I was never a great Scrabble player, even though I was raised in a house of words. But sometimes your brain tells you things your unconscious mind doesn’t want to see.
Claudine. Dulcinea. Claudine. Dulcinea.
Fuck. How did I miss that?
Mr. Ford
I saw Alex in the hallway as she left Dean Stinson’s office. Her eyes were open, but I doubt she saw me. It was like she was in a trance. Martha walked out after her, and Greg shut his door.
“What’s going on?” I said.
“This isn’t a hallway conversation,” said Martha.
It was one of those rare occasions when she got me curious enough to follow her alone into her office. Martha was delighted to tell me the sordid tale. I sat down in one of the chairs across from her desk. She pulled her chair right next to mine, so we could have a close, intimate chat.
“Early this morning, before class, Adam Westlake came to my office. He said he needed to talk to someone, a professional,” Martha said.
I knew right then that Adam was playing her. Unfortunately, Martha didn’t.
“What did he want to talk about?” I said.
Martha took a deep breath, had her dramatic pause.
“Adam Westlake and Alex Witt have been having a sexual relationship since the third week of school.”
I laughed.
“It’s not funny, Finn.”
“Martha, that’s bullshit and you know it.”
“God, Finn, you’re pathetic. I can’t believe you still like that…woman. There is irrefutable evidence. She did it. It’s that simple. Dean Stinson just suspended her. He’s called the board of advisers. She was ordered to leave campus. There will be an immediate investigation. I’m sure the board will want to interview you. Everyone.”
“Did Alex admit anything?” I said.
“Of course not,” said Primm.
“What’s the evidence?”
“There was a witness,” Primm said. “Someone—not a student, mind you; an adult—saw them together.”
“Who?” I said.
“I knew right from the day I met her that she was bad news,” said Primm.
“Who was the witness?”
“Our friend Claude.”
I wouldn’t have minded if Alex left Stonebridge of her own volition. But this wasn’t right.
I went straight to the library. Claude’s desk was vacant. I asked the students if anyone had seen her. A few kids pointed to the storage room in the far back corner of the library. I walked over and knocked on the door. There was no answer. I reached for the knob. It was locked.
“Open up, Claude. We need to talk.”
I waited. Nothing. I knocked again and told her I wasn’t leaving. She unlocked the door. Claude was sitting in the dark on a stepladder. I turned on the light. She had been crying for so long, her tears had scrubbed her face clean.
“Why are you doing this, Claude?”
She wouldn’t look at me.
“I have to,” she whispered.
I had only suspected until that point. But then I knew that there was only one way Adam could convince Claude to tell such a lie.
“How long has it been going on?” I said.
She held up her hand to stop me.
“Don’t look at me like that. You’re not exactly a model citizen yourself,” Claude said.
“I never fucked a student,” I whispered.
“That’s not the word on the street.”
I never should have confided in Claude. It was a close call with Rachel, but that’s all it was. But Claude made a good point. Appearances were everything.
Norman Crowley
There were two days left before break. We really needed to get away from each other. The teachers were done teaching. They’d just play movies in class or tell us to work independently. There was nothing else to do but sit on the sidelines while the feud festered like an infected wound.
Adam skipped class, but Ms. Witt pretended like she didn’t notice. Then Witt was summoned to Dean Stinson’s office and never came back. Adam left early for break. No one knew what was going on.
Coach Keith still made us run. The running felt like a punishment. On the cross-country loop, Gabriel Smythe slowed down and shoved me while I tried to pass him. I fell into a ravine and cut my knee. When Gemma ran past, she gave me a hand up.
She asked if it was Gabe. I nodded.
She took off after him. By the time I’d finished the loop, Gabriel was sitting on the field and Coach was wrapping his leg. I asked Gemma what happened. He tripped, she said. They took him to the hospital after that. He returned that night on crutches.
Adam’s crew had secret meetings in the lounge. I thought about setting up audio surveillance, but I wasn’t sure I could take another beating. Calvin was scared. He filed paperwork for a new roommate. Primm made me come to her office. She wanted to know if Calvin’s request had something to do with my sexual orientation.
“Maybe,” I said.
The truth doesn’t matter here.
Ms. Witt
I was so disturbed by what I had seen that I had no idea I was being set up.
I didn’t know what to do when I saw Claude with Adam. I needed the night to think about it. But Adam’s plan was already in motion. By the time the shock wore off and reasoning kicked in, it was the next morning. I went to Greg’s office to tell him, but he spoke first.
He spoke in halting sentences, like he does when he’s uncomfortable.
“Some very serious allegations have been brought—”
It felt like the outside world had slowed down while my thoughts had sped up. At first I thought that Greg was talking about Adam and Claude. I wondered who had told him.
“—to my attention. Obviously, I don’t believe it. But I have to follow protocol, since an adult and a student have made the same allegation. Your employment is suspended until further notice. I’m sorry, Alex. I don’t understand what’s happening here.”
“My employment?”
“Yes,” Greg said. “I’m sorry—my hands are tied. Evelyn Lubovich will accompany you to your apartment. You have fifteen minutes to gather any necessities. We’ll have the rest of your possessions packed and sent at a later date. I need you off campus within the hour.”
“I don’t understand. What did I do?”
“You have been accused of having sexual relations with a student, which is cause for immediate dismissal,” Greg said.
“I’ve been accused?”
Greg’s eyes searched his office, like he’d lost something. I t
hink he just didn’t want to look at me.
“Adam told Martha that you and he—and Ms. Shepherd confirmed the allegation. She said she walked in on the two of you.”
“No. No. He didn’t—she didn’t—”
“If it were just his word…but with Shepherd’s corroboration, you see how it looks?”
“That’s not what happened,” I said.
But I didn’t say it with the power or the rage I felt inside. I felt hollowed out, like a scraped-clean avocado skin. My voice was thin and tinny.
“It was Claude and Adam. I don’t know why he would say that—”
Then I did know.
My hands were shaking. I could feel hot tears on my face. I couldn’t move.
“There will be an investigation and we’ll sort this out,” Greg said.
Primm walked in. She made me sign something. I don’t know what it was.
“Until the investigation is complete, you must cease all contact with students. Stay at least a hundred yards from the campus at all times. Do you understand me?” Primm said.
“I will never understand you,” I said.
“Do you understand my instructions?” she said. “No contact with students. No texting, no talking, and—”
“Walk away, Martha. I can’t look at you,” I said.
“Martha, please,” Greg said. “Leave.”
Primm walked out.
“I’ll find you a lawyer, Alex. I’m sorry,” said Greg.
I remember Evelyn accompanying me to the apartment. Inside, I forgot why I was there, what I was supposed to do. I sat down on the couch and stared at the TV screen.
Evelyn packed a bag for me. She walked me to the front gate.
“It didn’t happen,” I said. “I would never do that.”
“Alex, we all make mistakes.”
“You believe them?” I said.
“I don’t know. But why would they lie?” Evelyn said.
