by Romi Hart
When he was gone, Hammer said, “At least, you’re not that guy. Damn. He’s worse off than you. He’s clinically insane for that chick.”
I nodded. I was crazy for Laney too, but I showed it differently. Acting like a crazy violent stalker wasn’t my thing. I am the type to be silently sad, missing her while trying not show it.
15
Laney
My phone vibrated from underneath my pillow. Buzz. Buzz. Buzz. Instinctively, half asleep with my eyes closed, I felt around for my phone.
Buzz. Buzz.
I peeked an eye open to see who it was.
Jett. My eyes popped open. It was 4:32 in the morning. What did he want? Was he okay?
Buzz.
Biting my lip, I thought about the possibilities that he was injured and needed my help. Regardless of whether we were going to be committed to each other, I still wanted to be his friend and wouldn’t refuse to help him if he needed me. I clicked accept.
“Hello?” I kept my voice low, looking over at Marsha asleep in her bed. After she berated me for being an ungrateful bitch to Troy, she’d put her headphones on and watched something on her laptop. I left her alone and turned away from her, facing my wall until she fell asleep.
Marsha had been a great roommate. She had seemed nice and friendly. That is until I questioned whether I wanted to be in a relationship with the love of her life, Troy. All of it seemed so odd and twisted to me. If I really liked someone, it would kill me to see him with someone else. I couldn’t be like Marsha who actively encouraged another girl to go out with Troy, selflessly just for the quiet satisfaction that he would be happy even if it was with someone else.
“Laney,” Jett sighed into the phone. Silence filled the space between us. I put my head down on my pillow, holding my phone to my ear and turning towards the wall, hugging my pillow to my chest. “I get it now.”
“You get what?” I asked. Marsha had fallen asleep with her lamp still on. The light outlined a soft shadow of my body on the white wall. I traced it with my finger and waited for him to continue.
He took his time as he talked. Allowing himself to pause, I guessed, to mull over the words he wanted to say to me. His words felt slow and leaden tugging at his voice and dragging it to a lumbering tempo, “I get that you don’t like me. I accept that you never will,” His voice cracked. It sounded like he was crumbling.
“Jett, I...” I tried to say.
He cut me off. “No, Laney. It’s okay. I like you more than any girl I’ve ever met, but I get it.” He laughed. The laugh came out resentfully. I let him continue on without interruption. “I’m going to leave you alone, Laney. From now on, you won’t have to worry about me.”
My heart sank. I gripped the pillow even tighter to quell the ache. “Jett…” I said.
But, he still wouldn’t let me talk. His deliberate tirade continued. “When we’re in class, I won’t even talk to you, sit next to you, or even look at you. I’ll ignore you as if we had never met.”
“Jett!” I said to stop him. I couldn’t let him keep going. What he was saying hurt me. Ignore me? Never talk to me again? Pretend we’d never met? My chest throbbed with pain. “I won’t be happy with that,” I uttered into the phone. “That’s not what I want.”
There was another silence on the phone. I barely breathed. The silence was so dense and heavy; I checked the iPhone screen to make sure he hadn’t hung up. He was still there, but I felt I was losing him.
I pressed my left ear down into the pillow and the phone to my right. I listened, waiting, hoping that ignoring each other wasn’t the answer.
Finally, Jett said, “Laney, do you want to be with me?”
I let his question hang in the muffled air. That was a question I couldn’t answer just yet. I had my own questions that needed to be answered. “Are all those stories true?” I asked.
It was his turn to handle a difficult question. I heard shuffling. There wasn’t silence this time, but the light scuffle of cloth. I imagined Jett had pulled his sheets over his head or bunched up his comforter in his hands in frustration.
A few moments passed. A crinkle of paper. Another shuffle of linen. A deep weighted sigh. Finally, he answered, “Yes. Those stories are mostly true. I haven’t been a nice guy to a lot of girls.”
I squeezed my eyes shut tightly, hearing his answer. I thought of the girls I’d met that night: Sadie, Samantha, Teresa, and Jane. All beautiful girls with bright futures, attending one of the best institutions in the world. I imagined myself as one of those girls. In truth, I was one of the girls.
I shuddered, thinking about lying with Jett on the bed in the guestroom. I'd almost gotten too caught up in the moment. He had his hands on me: rubbing and fondling the most sensitive parts of my body. I felt myself unraveling under his touch. that moment, I wanted him.
What if that guy hadn’t interrupted us? We could have had sex. Who knows if Jett would have dropped me right there at the party afterward? Or if he’d ignore my texts the next day? Or maybe not ever talk to me again?
Jett interrupted my thoughts that were spinning out of control. “Until you came along, Laney, I can’t deny what an asshole I’ve been. But, I’m done trying to prove to you I’ll never hurt you that way and that you are truly special to me. I’m done.”
A sob burgeoned deep down my throat. I swallowed it back down. I couldn’t cry just yet.
What does that mean, he’s done?
I gripped my iPhone, pushing it against my ear hard. I wanted to hear every word he had to say, every sound from his mouth, in case, it was the last time we ever spoke.
“If you want to be with Troy, you should go for him. He is literally crazy about you.” Jett sputtered out a weak laugh. “I won’t stand in your way.”
Glancing over to Marsha’s bed, I checked to see if she was still asleep. Her eyes were closed, and her breath was even and calm. Just in case, I whispered loudly into my phone, “No! I don’t want to be with Troy. I like you, Jett! I’m just afraid of getting hurt.”
Marsha stirred, but then just turned over in her bed. I sighed in relief. The last thing I needed was Marsha waking up and throwing a fit that I was on the phone with Jett and not Troy.
Jett’s voice strained as he said, “I can’t imagine ever hurting you. If I hurt you, it would hurt me too.” I could hear indecipherable noises: movement in the background. It sounded like Jett was walking or maybe pacing. His speech quickened. “I’ve become so attached to you. Hurting you would kill me. I wish you’d believe me.”
He sounded genuine. I could sense the urgency in his voice. He blurted, “Laney, can I come get you? Will you stay the night with me? I’m dying to see you.”
I wanted to say yes, but I knew what staying the night with him would lead to. Earlier that night, I came close to sleeping with Jett, and we were in a stranger’s house at a party. Could I trust myself to be alone with him again, only this time in his apartment?
There were too many unknowns. It would be a reckless mistake to see him now. “I don’t…”
“Laney, please?” he begged with a long sigh.
But, I wanted to see him. Despite everything I knew about him and the horrible stories of what he’d done to those girls, I wanted to see him.
What did that say about the type of person I was? Could Marsha be right? Was I just interested in a bad boy for all the wrong reasons?
With regret, I said, “I can’t, Jett.”
“Don’t you want to see me?” he asked softly.
“I do.” I really did. Badly.
“Then let me come get you,” he pleaded.
I hesitated, afraid to say yes and terrified to say no. What the girls said to me echoed in my head. “No. I can’t, Jett. I’m sorry.”
“Okay.” I heard Jett exhale loudly. I could hear the cracks again in his shaky voice. “I won’t bother you anymore, Laney. Take care of yourself.”
There was heavy full silence again. I waited for him to say more. After a few more moments
of hearing nothing, I looked at my phone screen. He had hung up.
Devastation hit me in the mouth. He hung up.
My eyes welled with tears. I blinked them away still staring at my phone. A teardrop fell onto my screen into a big fat clear splotch. My hands were shaking, making the water splotch spread out onto other parts of the screen. My phone’s wallpaper, a photograph of my mom and me in front of an old historic church in Gainesville, blurred. Water streaked right onto my mouth in the photograph turning my smile into a hazy smear.
Jett was done with me…
16
Jett
Laney. Laney. Laney. She’s all I could think about. As soon as she was out of my mind, I would go to school and see her there. Haas’s campus was just not big enough. She seemed to be everywhere.
In our Competitive Strategy course, she still sat in the front row. Skipping that class was not an option.
Generally, to avoid Laney, I showed up to class at the last possible minute without being late. I sat in the back of class near the door for an easy escape when the class was over.
Troy sat in the far back left of the classroom right next to the door on that side. After every class, he seemed to run out of as soon as class was over without sticking around to talk to Laney. I wondered if he was going through the same Laney withdrawal as I was.
At the end of class, I practically sprinted out of the classroom. I saw Troy doing the same out of the other door. We regarded each other deferentially in the manner that all previous adversaries greet each other: a head nod.
Laney’s roommate, Marsha, stood behind a statue of Walter Haas. Marsha was nearly unrecognizable. When I’d seen her at Laney’s, she’d usually been dressed in yoga pants or LL Bean pullovers. She was in a skintight pink dress that made her breasts nearly spill over the top.
It was weird that she was on this side of campus since she was Pre-Med. I figured she must be meeting Laney for lunch or something, but when she saw Troy, she jumped back behind the statue. Once Troy had passed by her, she followed behind him, teetering on stiletto heels, but she kept far enough behind Troy he never noticed her.
Troy headed into the Haas Cafeteria, which was where I was going to grab lunch. After I got my turkey and cranberry sandwich, my favorite lunch special at our cafeteria, I quickly scanned the tables, hoping Laney wasn’t around. She wasn’t so I sat down to eat in peace.
A few tables over, I saw Troy with his friends, Max and Andy, two guys on the wrestling team. Max said something, making Troy and Andy crack up. If Brick House was a football player and we were on the same team, I wondered if we would have been friends. They all jumped up from the table at the same time with their cups in hand to go get refills.
Eating my sandwich, I watched as Marsha tottered over to their table. Quickly, she pulled out a small baggie of white powder and sprinkled it onto Troy’s food. As Troy and his buddies headed back from the drink machine, Marsha wobbled away before they could see her.
I had no idea what to make of what I’d just seen. I felt I was somewhat in the middle of a predicament. Troy and I were cordial, but we weren’t exactly best friends. How would he react if I told him that Laney’s roommate snuck up and sprinkled something in his food? It sounded crazy. He would think I was making it up to mess with him again. I decided to sit back and see what happened.
Troy and his friends sat back down and ate their food. And Troy ate his without noticing anything was wrong with it. By the time they were done with their lunch, Troy seemed fine. Troy and I were in the same Investments elective course, which was our next class, so I’d be able to check on him there.
I finished up my sandwich and headed over to our class. When I got there, Troy sat hunched over in his chair. His face didn’t exactly look sick, but he looked uncomfortable. He shifted several times in his chair with a stricken look on his face. After a few minutes of struggling to find a comfortable position, Troy jumped out of his chair, drenched in sweat.
I followed him out of the classroom to make sure he didn’t pass out in the hallway. When I turned the corner, I found Marsha was outside in the hallway, smiling at Troy, but he sped past without so much as a glance at her.
It seemed she wasn’t about to be ignored as she called out, “Are you okay?”
Troy looked back at her and shook his head swiftly. I stepped back into a doorway, flattening myself as best I could so neither of them would see me.
Marsha swayed toward him, reaching out her hand. “Do you need my help, Troy?”
Troy confessed, “Something’s wrong with me. Like I got a boner the size of Texas, and I have no idea why.” He adjusted himself in his pants. Looking uneasy.
Marsha giggled. “I can help you with that.”
Troy looked her up and down, considering her offer. Marsha took his hand, leading him to the men’s bathroom. He shrugged, allowing her to take the lead.
Marsha must have slipped him Viagra or Cialis in his food at lunch. I couldn’t let her get away with that. I walked into the bathroom, hearing Troy and Marsha’s moans and grunts. They were in one of the stalls.
It was an awkward moment, but I had to tell Troy what she’d done, so I called out, “Troy! I saw that girl pour white powder into your food at lunch.” Their moans and grunts stopped. “I think it must’ve been an erectile dysfunction medication. She drugged you, dude.”
“Did you put something in my food?” I heard Troy say.
Marsha stuttered, “I gave you something to loosen you up. To have fun.”
Troy exclaimed in disbelief, “What?”
Troy and Marsha spilled out of one the stalls. Marsha’s dress was pulled up to her waist. Her panties were at her ankles. I looked away as she pulled up her panties and pulled down her dress. “Troy, it’s not a big deal. Men take that stuff every day.”
Troy’s jaw clenched. “Marsha, you’ve been an absolute psycho since high school. It is a big deal. Men knowingly take Cialis every day, but you snuck it into my food. I think that’s a crime.”
I added, “I know it is.”
Marsha’s face crumpled as she began to cry. “Troy, why don’t you like me? Look at me! Why am I not good enough for you?”
Troy raised his arms up in disbelief. “Because you do crazy psycho shit like slip me drugs, Marsha! Shit, girl. What the hell is wrong with you?”
The echo in the bathroom made Marsha’s intensifying sobs into a cacophony of embarrassment. I grimaced at Troy and said, “I’m going to get out of your hair.”
As I turned to go, Troy said, “Jett, I could use your help. Do you mind taking her to the Dean’s office with me? You’re the only witness to what she did to me. And I can’t let her get away with this shit.”
I looked back at Troy and the blubbering girl next to him. What a mess. “Sure. I can do that.” It was the right thing to do after all.
We escorted Marsha to the fifth floor where Dean Lyons’s office was. She pleaded with us, “I’m sorry, Troy. Please don’t turn me in. I’ll lose my internship at UCSF Medical Center. They’ll figure out that’s where I swiped the erectile dysfunction drug.”
Troy looked at her sadly. “Marsha, you need help. That’s why I need to turn you in. It’s criminal what you did, and you don’t even see that.” Irritated, he added, “And I don’t need erectile dysfunction drugs if the girl isn’t batshit crazy.”
Marsha began to wail again. Her mascara streaked down her face, and her lipstick was smeared. She looked like Heath Ledger in Dark Knight. Only crazier. “No one is going to take you seriously. The Dean will laugh at you. I gave you Cialis. So what?” she cried.
I completely agreed with Troy. If a guy slipped drugs to a girl, it was undoubtedly a criminal act. I was sure that many people would think a girl sneaking a guy drugs to get a hard-on is hardly the same thing, but I believed it was. It was any person’s right to be in control of their bodies. I shuddered, thinking about Marsha as a doctor. We couldn’t let her get away with it.
Dean Lyons agreed to see
us despite not having an appointment. He listened to our story with a serious look on his face as Marsha cried the entire time we were in the office.
In between sobs, she said to Troy, “I’m sorry. I’m really sorry. I’ve been in love with you for so long.”
The room was silent after her confession. But Dean's face remained grim. "I'm going to contact the Chancellor. Marsha, your actions give me no choice but to recommend expulsion." Dean Lyons looked at Troy and me with a nod. "Thank you, Troy and Jett, for bringing this to my attention."
Troy and I left Marsha in Dean Lyons’s office. We could still hear her high-pitched sobs on our way out. “You okay, dude?” I pointed down. “Down there?”
Troy laughed. “Yup. It’s amazing how a crazy chick can instantly make a dude soft even if he is on meds.”
We both chucked loudly in the hallway. Our laughter bounced down the empty hall. Before we walked back to class, Troy stopped me, extending a hand. “Thank you, Jett.”
Troy looked sincere and grateful. I shook his hand. “No problem, Troy.”
We shook hands as friends, letting our old rivalry go.
17
Laney
I had scheduled an appointment with Dean Lyons’s at 2:30 PM. Because of my interest in Silicon Valley startups and working for tech companies in general, I wanted to introduce myself personally to Dean Lyons. I exited the elevator on the fifth floor when I saw Jett and Troy outside Dean's Suite. They shook hands with smiles on their faces.
I looked around. What alternate universe had I stepped into? I thought about stepping back into the elevator, but as I turned around to get back in, it shut on me.
It didn’t matter anyway. “Laney!” Jett called after me. They’d definitely both seen me. I turned around to find them both waving enthusiastically. I wasn’t sure what to make of their smiling and the friendly looks on their faces. They’d both had ignored me all week.
