A Cold and Quiet Place

by Alison DeLuca

  If she cries he’ll hear the tears in her voice and get even angrier. Lily swallows and says, “You told me the date. I told my mom. I gave you a couple of dates and you said the end of July.” She stops, unable to continue. It feels like someone has jammed a hot poker down her throat.

  “So that makes it okay to just fucking waltz into my life? Into my school? What if I had plans? God, you’re so fucking spoiled.” Tyler doesn’t yell. His temper makes him quieter and more deadly.

  Lily’s arm falls to the quilt, her fingers still clutching the phone. She sobs, her chest heaving with the effort to keep it down so he won’t hear. “But I’m your girlfriend,” she whispers.

  ◆◆◆

  Mom talks to her supervisor as she drives, her Bluetooth wobbling in one ear. “I already ordered palliative care,” she says to some unknown associate on the phone. “The family’s all on board except for the father. Between you and me, he’s been a pain in the ass. He’ll come around, though, once he sees how quickly she’s gone downhill…”

  Lily tunes her out and scrolls through her phone to shots of her and Tyler at the beach. They stand hand in hand in the waves. He talks, she laughs at what he says. Even though she’s a tall girl, Lily is dwarfed by his height.

  There are other pictures –in the backyard with him in the background, her in a cocktail dress with his arms around her from behind, a shot of Tyler’s ring on her finger, the two of them at a restaurant with Vincent and her parents. They all look stiff and uncomfortable, as though they’re wax statues.

  And another of his flushed face, jaw slack, lips damp and loose, and eyes closed with pleasure …

  Lily glances at her mother and closes the camera app. Her heart thumps pleasantly against her chest. After Tyler‘s visit to New Jersey, Lily prays they’re in a new phase. Moving forward, they can work out the way they don’t talk to each other, the way he puts her down when she tells him how she broke the 24-second mark in her 50.

  After all, he’s agreed her mom should come to Rosemont too. So what if he gets cranky or demanding? His team is in the top ten in the nation, and he’s working his butt off on a scholarship. No wonder he doesn’t always have time for his girlfriend.

  Plus Lily promises herself she can take whatever Tyler dishes out. She’s tough. As a swimmer she’s able to hold her breath until her head spins, and she can jump back into the pool after puking up her guts.

  Yeah, she can deal with a few insults. After all, they’re only words. It’s not like Tyler hits her or anything.

  “We should be there in a few minutes.” Mom points in the direction of the passenger window. “God, look at that house. The brickwork is incredible, isn’t it?” Lily hums in agreement, although she has no idea what her mother means. She has to admit the houses near Rosemont are huge, and the lawns out front are the size of small countries. “Although,” Mom adds with a sigh, “they say the heroin problem here is out of control. The best public schools in the system, and 35 percent of the kids use drugs.”

  The words squirm into Lily’s mind like snakes. She doesn’t want to think about kids so rich and bored they want to poke opiates into their skin for a thrill.

  Lily’s sport keeps her focused, not only on the black line painted on bottom of her lane but also the future. It’s the next five seconds, making it to the turn or touching the wall before her competitors do. It’s dragging herself out of bed when it’s dark outside and icy rain stripes the windows while everyone else is asleep. It’s who she is.

  God, Lily prays suddenly, let me keep swimming no matter what happens.

  ◆◆◆

  Lily has to sign in at the dorm, a brick building hidden at the back of campus. There’s a student behind the desk, a girl in a bohunk dress with a messy bun. When she rises from the desk to point out the stairs, Lily sees she’s got Birkenstocks on tanned, shapely feet.

  Mom trails after her and protests they need to stick together. “I think we’re parked illegally,” she adds. “Might get towed. We have to go and move the car first. I didn’t realize you wanted to just kerblam straight upstairs to his room.”

  “No one visits their boyfriend with their mom,” Lily hisses. “Seriously? I won’t go into his bedroom – I won’t even sit down in a chair. We’re just going to have a quick reunion and head out to a great seafood place he told me about. With you.” Her mom’s mouth opens, and Lily adds, “I promise. Mom, you can trust me. Go move the car – I won’t die without you for twenty minutes.”

  “I do trust you. It just 18 year old boys I don’t trust, especially around my daughter.”

  “It’s daytime, mom. We’re in a dorm filled with people.” The Birkenstock girl watches the entire scene with great interest, and Lily nudges Mom with her hip. “Go move the car, and I’ll meet up with Tyler. It’ll be fine.”

  “I’m pretty sure sex still happens in the daytime in a dorm filled with people,” her mother snips.

  “Really? Really?” Lily feels embarrassment crawl up her neck, a deep blush of shame.

  “There are advisors on each floor to make sure students and visitors stay safe,” Birkenstock Girl chirps.

  Mom seems unconvinced, but she heads to the rotating door. “Be right back!” she adds.

  “Just said that fifty times,” Lily mutters as soon as her mother disappears.

  “The stairwell’s right down there. Elevator’s broken, again, ugh.” Birkenstock Girl pauses. “I’m right downstairs if you need me. I’d go up with you, but my manager’s a bitch about us staying at the desk, and I just can’t lose this job.”

  “I’ll be fine,” Lily insists.

  The third floor hall is painted gunmetal gray and lined with doors. Most of them are open, revealing messy beds and empty bottles. Music spills out of one room labeled Crack Club, and as Lily passes, a guy falls out, followed by a barrage of pillows. “You suck, Blowfish!” a deep voice shouts from inside the dorm room.

  Lily slithers past the kid to room 589. It’s closed. Tyler is in there, she thinks, maybe changing after practice. He’s going to open the door and… Her stomach jumps with pleasure and nerves as she knocks. Maybe he’ll give her a big kiss or pick her up and whirl her around like one of those romantic couples in a movie when they reunite after a world war. She pushes her hair behind her ears and fingers the gift she brought for him, a box of his favorite cookies.

  A few minutes tick by, and she frowns. Is he on the phone? Or watching a YouTube video with ear buds in and the volume turned up? Maybe he lost track of time studying… She knocks again and, after there’s no response, pounds on the door.

  Loud footsteps echo inside before the door flies open. Lily’s smile dies as she sees the person in the dorm room is a stranger. There’s no doubt he’s a swimmer, not with those wide shoulders and serious lat definition. Longish hair stands up in spikes. He resembles a startled hedgehog.

  They stare at each other for a few seconds. “Yes?” he says.

  “Uh, hi.” Lily feels her heart pound. “Is Tyler here?”

  A girl joins the boy in the doorway and winds her arms around his waist, lays her head on his shoulder. “Don’t tell me you’re Lily,” the boy says.

  Feeling as though she’s about to get sick, Lily nods. “Yeah,” she manages to say.

  “He’s such a dick,” the guy says. “Sorry, I’m Ben. We’ve texted, right? Nice to meet you in person.” The girl pushes him, and he adds, “This is Bree.”

  “Ben and Bree,” Lily repeats mechanically. “Hi. So, is Tyler here?”

  Bree examines her thumbnail. “Went to a party.”

  “What?” Lily feels tears prick her eyelids. “But he…” The last thing she wants is to break down in front of this girl. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to bother you. Guess I – okay.” Feeling as though she’s embarrassed herself enough in front of Tyler’s roommate, Lily heads back to the stairs. Crack Club appears to have evolved into a full-blown party, complete with beer and marshmallow guns.

  Lily hides in the angled stairw
ell and crouches on the top step as she blots her eyes on the hem of her halter-top. There’s a lump in her throat that tastes like salt and rust. She feels in her pocket for her phone, pulls it out, and types. Where r u Im hear u said 6

  The music from the Crack Shop bounces off the chipped paint on the walls. Lily waits, but there’s no response. Her only option is to find her mom, admit Tyler has ditched her, and head to a hotel room where she’ll go insane until he calls.

  Lily will have to slink past Birkenstock Girl again. Alone.

  And Lily remembers Bree. She’s seen the girl’s picture before on Tyler’s Facebook profile.

  “Hi.” Ben appears in the doors to the stairs, making her jump up. He’s alone.

  Tyler still hasn’t responded. “Hi.” Lily puts away her phone and blurts out a watery laugh. “I’m so sorry I bothered you! Had no idea you were there with a girl. Didn’t mean to be a…”

  “A cockblocker?” Ben laughs. “Don’t worry about it. Bree’s just a friend. She went in there to hang with that bunch of tools.” He jerks his head in the direction of the Crack Club. “Anyway, I wanted to tell you I called Tyler. He got held up at the party, but he’ll be back really soon. Well, soon. Like, in an hour.”

  An hour. Lily stifles her dismay and manages to smile. “Oh, sure. Yeah, probably he got talking to a couple of guys and forgot the time. Or maybe there’s a pong table? He loves pong. Or were some of his teammates there? Maybe they have to go over training schedules and stuff.” She stops and closes her eyes for a second. “I’m – just tell me to shut up.”

  Ben grins. His weird hairstyle suits him, the streaked blond spikes against freckled milky skin. “No, you’re good.” His eyes flick over her as she stands up. “You’re a swimmer too, right?”

  “Yeah. You?”

  “Isn’t it obvious?”

  Lily laughs in relief. He’s a lifesaver. She knows she’s being dramatic, but if she waits with Ben, she won’t have to crawl past Birkenstock Girl or call her mom to come and pick her up like a second-grader at a bad birthday party. “Thanks for the rescue. I’m gonna go hide in the library or on campus until Tyler texts me. So, if he calls or anything, could you just let him know I’m here?”

  “Fuck that.” Ben holds out his hand, and she grasps his forearm to get hauled onto her feet. “Hang out with me. I’m just chilling anyway. We’ll leave the door open,” he adds when she begins to stutter, not sure what her mom would say. “C’mon. We can even sit in the hall if you’re nervous.”

  “I’m not nervous, it’s. Just. Well.” Lily doesn’t know what to say.

  He guides her past the Crack Shop. “No, I get it. It’s dumb for a girl to go into a room with anyone she just met. See? Look, door open. Check it out. Got these really comfy seats I can bring out into the hall. Blam, one for you, and there’s one for me. I’ll sit wayyyyy over here. Done. You’re safe.”

  Lily sinks into the creaky chair and smiles up at him. “You’re being so nice, and I’m being paranoid.”

  “Just let me get my laptop.” Ben subsides into the chair, wiggles on it a few times. He seems to test whether or not it’ll buckle under his weight. “Guess I could actually work while we wait.”

  She pulls out her phone – it’s what people do in awkward situations, right? Stare at a tiny screen so they don’t have to interact? – and scrolls through email, texts, Instagram updates. There’s nothing new. 2048 doesn’t appeal, and her required summer book requires way too much concentration. Idly she asks Ben what he’s working on, and he tells her it’s a stupid essay for a stupid American Lit requirement.

  “I wrote one of those a few weeks ago.” Lily tries one more message to Tyler: I am literally hanging outside yr room with yr roommate right now. “About Flannery O’Connor.”

  “No way – same!” Ben sits up, and the chair shrieks in protest. “What’d you write about?”

  “A story called The Life You Save May Be Your Own.” Lily refuses to ponder the irony of the title. “My friend and I brainstormed a theory about human hearts. I know it sounds pretty barbaric, but our theory was you could dissect someone’s heart and still never find out what’s really going on inside…” She breaks off. Ben stares at her, his mouth open.

  “This is – damn. So awesome. Mind if I use your idea? I mean, I’ll riff off it and find my own sources and quotes and shit.”

  Lily holds out her arms. “Be my guest. Happy I could help, especially after you rescued me.”

  Ben shoots her a look as he types. “Yeah. About that. Ty’s my boy, right? I mean, there’s such a thing as guy code. I’m not saying what he did was right, but…”

  “Wait. What did he do? What are you talking about?”

  He flushes and bends over the keyboard. “I mean, this. Whatever. Not like I’m perfect either, right? I can be a jerk too. Probably all guys are.”

  “Oh.” She breathes out. “No big deal. I was freaked out just now when you found me on the stairs. New place and everything, you know?”

  It makes sense. This is college, after all, not high school, and probably there’s a whole new set of rules. Relationships are more casual. Mistakes happen. Parties erupt out of nowhere – the Crack Shop is proof. Underneath it all, she’s sure Tyler is a good guy. The ring on her finger says so.

  Ben gives her two thumbs’ up. “Most girls would call and scream at him or make a scene. Tyler hates that. He told me the other day. You know the girl who was just here? Bree?”

  Now he has Lily’s full attention. “What about her?”

  “She went off on me and Ty last week. Said we were players, said we didn’t know our asses from a hole in the ground, told me to go fuck myself.”

  “Wait.” Lily leans forward, and her chair groans. “Why?”

  He shrugs. “Who knows? You drink a coupla beers, stuff gets said, I don’t know. Point is, Tyler told me she’s a freak and he can’t stand her loud mouth.” A phrase on the screen seems to catch his attention, and he frowns at the words.

  Down the hall, a shirtless guy jumps out of the Crack Club. He clutches a crinkly orange object in one hand and, as Lily stares at him, tears it open to chug the contents. They appear to be desiccated worms. “Raw ramen!” he yells.

  Lily catches Ben’s eye. “Uh, don’t let me keep you,” she says. “Sounds like the party’s starting to blow up.”

  Ben nods, his expression serious. “Because I really want to go and eat uncooked noodles.”

  “Snort the flavor packet!” a girl inside the Crack Club yells. The shirtless guy rips a tiny square and holds it to his nose.

  “Now you’re really missing out,” Lily adds. “Hey, that might be Shrimp flavor, you know.”

  “Did you just…” Ben stares at her for a second before bursting into high-pitched giggles. It’s infectious, and Lily starts to laugh.

  “Shrimp - so stupid!” she gasps, which seems to set him off again. “Why is this funny?” They calm down, and Lily blots her face with the mistreated halter-top. “I needed that,” she adds.

  Lily’s phone vibrates, and she pulls it out. Ben, along crunchy Ramen dude, has saved the day. Now she just needs Tyler to arrive, and her visit will be perfect.

  However the text isn’t from Tyler. Think you can escape me, bitch? I’m still here. Whoever has sent it is using an unknown number.

  “Lily?” Ben’s voice is gentle. “You okay?”

  Her phone chimes with another text: The visit with your bf won’t help. He’s screwing around with other girls. Remember when you’re at your next meet.

  She holds out the phone, and Ben’s hand covers hers so he can see. “Damn,” he says. “This is some nasty shit.”

  “Hey!” The shout comes from down the hall. Tyler, his hands curled into fists, stands by the stairwell. “What the fuck are you doing?”

  One of the Crack Shop partiers switches off the music. A face haloed with golden ringlets pokes out. It’s Bree, obviously consumed with curiosity. Mr. Ramen is right behind her, his face still covered
in Flavor Packet powder.

  Ben drops Lily’s hand, closes his laptop with a snap, and stands up. He fumbles the rusty chair closed. “Sorry,” he mutters, but it’s not clear if he’s talking to her or Tyler.

  “Hey!” Tyler yells again. “What the hell? What are you doing?” He must be seriously pissed off if he’s raising his voice.

  Lily stands up so fast she gets dizzy and nearly falls. Next to her, Ben quickly picks up his chair, throws it into room 589, and scuttles down the hall towards Crack Club.

  “What am I doing? I’m waiting for you.” Lily feels anger like static in her head. “You told me to be here at 6. I’ve been here for nearly an hour. An hour, Tyler.” She feels she’s about to explode. “You’re the one who invited me here. It’s not like I just…just…just…”

  “Just…just…” he mocks. “And if you’re sitting in the hall to flirt with my roommate, you don’t get to complain. I had to go and meet with my coach, and it turned out there was an important event, which I had no idea would happen, and I couldn’t concentrate because I tried to get back here to you. And when I finally do, I see you and Ben all cozy, holding hands and shit.”

  “He was looking at my phone! And he helped me!”

  “Not what I saw. In any case, why did you come up here? You should have called me, waited downstairs, and when I got here I coulda showed you around like I planned. But you ruined it.”

  Tears of frustration slip down her cheeks. “I didn’t know,” she begins. “I tried to text you a couple of times.”

  Tyler shakes his head. “Do you really think a text would get through in a party? You know what you look like right now, all red-eyed outside my door? Like a dumb 15-year-old kid out of place.” He punctuates each word with a stab of his finger in her face. “You’re so lucky to have me. Your college boyfriend. What would you do if you were all alone here on campus? Wander off to the bar? Try and pick up a guy, maybe a couple of guys? Jesus. And you’re so loud, you made a scene. In my college. And you have no idea how hard I worked to get here.”