by Dahlia Adler
Of course I’m digging myself into a hole. That seems to be all I’m able to do these days. I open my mouth to respond, but the phone rings, and I jump for it, praying it’ll be Tyler.
It’s Nancy.
“I’m sorry,” I say to Karen, “but I really need to take this. It’s our godmother. She’s the financial guardian.”
Karen makes a “go ahead” gesture, but I can tell she’s growing impatient. Hard to blame her. It’s a lousy way to spend a Saturday night.
“Hey, Nancy. It’s not a great time—”
“The boys are here.”
I blink. “I’m sorry?”
“Tyler and Max just showed up at my door. Apparently they took a bus down here, unattended.” She sighs. “Lizzie, what’s going on?”
I dart my eyes back to Karen, who’s watching me closely, and my relief at hearing the boys are okay is swirling around in a mix of fear of her finding out what happened and anger at the boys for being so stupid and putting me in this position. I have no idea what the hell to do.
Thankfully, Connor seems to realize neither of these conversations can be paused right now. “Lizzie, why don’t you talk to Nancy in your room, and I’ll make Karen some coffee? Or tea?”
Karen sniffs but accepts the offer of some decaf. Unfortunately, I don’t have any decaf, because I think it’s stupid, but what she doesn’t know won’t hurt her. I leave her with Connor and take the phone into my room, closing the door tightly behind me.
“They’re with you?” I whisper fiercely. “I don’t understand. I had a billion fires to put out around here today, and studying to do for finals, and when I came back, they were just…gone. I called Tyler a thousand times, and he didn’t pick up once. He was on a bus? With Max?”
“You should talk to him, Lizzie. Here—”
“No, wait, not yet. I have another problem.” I quickly fill her in on Karen’s surprise visit. “What do I do?”
“Oh, sweetheart. How do you get yourself into so much trouble?”
“I don’t even know, but please, please help me fix this mess tonight because I swear, Nancy, I am on the verge of a nervous breakdown.” I can already feel tears filling my eyes, needles prickling my skin. “I just need her to get out of here or I am seriously going to lose it.”
“What did you tell her?”
“That the boys are at friends’ houses. I panicked. It was the first thing I thought of.”
“Well, that’s gonna be a little tricky now. Okay, hand me off to her.”
I walk back out, and am relieved to see that Karen looks a little more relaxed now, and is even smiling at whatever charm Connor is working. God, he’s so cute. I wish I could just take a minute to appreciate his rumpled hair and facial scruff, but we have waaaay more important matters to tend to right now. “Sorry to interrupt,” I say, trying to project sweet calm—two things that don’t come naturally to me in the slightest—“but Nancy was hoping to talk to you. She picked the boys up from their friends’ houses.” I say this last bit with my mouth as close to the phone as possible.
Both Connor and Karen’s eyebrows shoot up, though he’s quicker to recover from the surprise he shouldn’t be exhibiting. “Doesn’t your financial guardian live in your hometown?” she asks. “I thought your brothers were at friends.”
“Yes, they were. They were, um, at friends in Pomona. They’re staying with Nancy this weekend.”
She obviously wants to ask me a million more questions, but I thrust the phone at her, and she has no choice but to take it. Instead, I’m forced to listen awkwardly to the only half of the conversation I can hear. “They traveled to you by themselves…? I see…And they were at friends…? And they’ll be coming back when…?”
As Karen continues to give Nancy the third degree, I bite the inside of my cheek and exchange nervous glances with Connor, who looks like he wants to disappear. I should probably let him, but I can’t bring myself to. Not when I’m barely holding myself together as it is.
A couple of minutes later, Karen hangs up and sighs, then hands me back the phone. “I can’t say I approve of your decision to let the boys travel alone, or at this time in the school year, but thankfully it seems your financial guardian has been taking good care of them, and I trust you will be picking them up from the bus at a reasonable hour tomorrow.”
“Of course.”
“I’ll have to return at another point when they’re here, before the guardianship proceedings, and I expect that there will be no more solo out-of-town ventures before then.”
I give her a jerky nod. “Of course not.”
“Good.” She nods at me, then at Connor. “As for this….” She shakes her head. “I certainly hope you use more discretion around the two of them then you do around security cameras.”
There’s no venom in her voice when she says it, though, and whether it’s because Connor charmed her over coffee or she’s simply exhausted, I don’t know. But I’ll take it. “Of course.” I sound like a robot at this point, but she’s so close to leaving, I can practically feel the rush of relief I know will engulf me as soon as she does.
I take my rebuke for another minute, and then, finally, she’s gone.
“Well,” I say once I can no longer hear her footsteps. “That…sucked.”
Connor lets out a huge sigh, dropping his head in his hands and rubbing his eyes. “That’s one way of putting it.” He stretches out his legs, then stands. “Well, at least everything worked out, for now. I should get back.”
Wait, what? “You’re going back? Why?” I finally have the place to myself, and while granted, I’m not happy about how that happened, nor am I particularly in the mood to do anything other than drink and pass out, it seems crazy not to take advantage of the rare privacy.
“Because the last thing we need are some more creepy paparazzi photos getting out if someone spots me here while the department’s still making their decision. Things are already pretty awful. I think it’s time we stop tempting fate. At least until we get our respective sentences handed down.”
I want to argue with him, but I can’t—not after my day of disasters. Having let down everyone humanly possible in the last twenty-four hours, it’s probably appropriate I defer to someone else’s judgment for a change. So I walk him to the door, my hands jammed in my pockets to stop myself from reaching out to him, and then accept a perfunctory peck before he pulls up his hood and walks out.
He closes the door quietly, considerately, as he always does, but it still feels like the loudest, loneliest sound in the world.
• • •
As promised, the boys return the next night, looking tired, cranky, and wary. Well, Tyler looks wary; Max doesn’t seem to realize they’ve done anything wrong at all. The entire ride home from the bus stop, he chatters to me about Pete, and Nancy’s tacos, and how he made a snow angel on the lawn, with no clue I’m so tense and angry in the driver’s seat that I’m literally shaking.
Next to me, Tyler is silent, his eyes fixed on the darkness beyond his window. His jaw is set like he’s gearing up for a fight, which is just as well, since he’s sure as hell gonna get one.
I don’t want to argue in front of Max, though. I know I need to explain to him that this was wrong, and why, and that he can never, ever do it again, but there’ll be time for that when I’m calmer.
Right now, I just want answers from the tween criminal mastermind I’ve apparently been harboring for the past three months.
Nancy’d put them on the bus with enough sandwiches and snacks to last them the week, so at least I don’t have deal with feeding them. I send Max straight to the shower, but when Tyler tries to creep off to his room, I snap.
“Don’t even think about it, little brother.” I flick an index finger at the couch. “Sit.”
“I’m tired—”
“And whose fault is that? Did I tell you to sit on a five-hour bus ride today? Or yesterday? No, no I definitely didn’t. And I certainly didn’t say it was okay. What the
hell were you thinking, getting on that bus by yourself?”
He crosses his arms over his sweatshirt. “I wasn’t by myself.”
“You realize that’s even worse, don’t you?” I curl my hands into fists at my sides so I won’t reach out and shake him. “Max is seven, Tyler! What would you have done if he’d gotten hurt? Or lost? How did you even get on the bus in the first place?”
“I’m not a baby, you know.”
“Are you sure about that? Because this was incredibly childish of you.” I can hear myself channeling my father at his angriest, but I can’t make myself stop. “You know what responsible adults do, Tyler? They talk things out. They leave notes if they want to go somewhere. They answer their damn phones.”
“Oh, right, like you never just disappear,” he says with a snort. “You were gone that entire day, just like you are every Saturday, and every Sunday, and every Friday night.”
“Are you kidding me?” I throw up my hands. “You think I was gone all day yesterday because I was out at the mall with my friends? You think I disappear to have fun? I have to study, Tyler. I have to go grocery shopping, and deal with the car, and pick you guys up from school, and buy you school supplies, and keep this house running.” And clean up the messes I’ve made by sleeping with my TA. “Do you think suddenly becoming an eighteen-year-old parent of two is easy?”
“You’re not our parent,” Ty says fiercely.
“Oh, grow up, Tyler,” I snap. “You know full well I’m not trying to say I’m Mom, or take her place. But I’m responsible for you in every way a parent is, and that means you can’t pull shit like running off on me whenever you feel like it. And you sure as hell can’t take Max with you.”
“So what can I do?” he demands. “Because it doesn’t seem like anyone here is allowed to have a life except for you. Do you know how much time I spend babysitting Max? Do you realize I haven’t gone to a single party, or basketball game, or even movie since I got here? How am I supposed to do anything but think about Mom and Dad when I can’t even leave the house?”
His voice cracks on “Mom,” and just like that, all the anger building in my gut dissipates.
“You have Connor,” he says, his voice rough. “You have somebody here. But everyone I have left is in Pomona. And being alone here sucks.”
My heart aches as I finally understand how he must’ve been feeling these past few months, not making friends, not having anything to distract him from the pain at all. Not that losing my parents doesn’t still hurt like hell every damn day, but he’s right—I have Connor to help me soothe the pain. I have someone whose shoulder I can bury myself in when I wanna cry about it. Hell, I even have the distraction of all the messes I’ve created.
Tyler has nothing but memories and therapy sessions.
I think back to Thanksgiving, and how happy he was after spending time with Jake, and with Amy. How happy Max was being doted on by Nancy and playing with Pete. They were happy for those few days, in a way I realize now I’ve never seen them here.
I know I should tell him that he’s not alone here, that he has me and Max, but it’s not what he wants to hear; I don’t want him to think I’m missing his point. Because I’m not. I get that this may never be a place that makes him happy. And even if I took him to the movies next week, or let him throw a party here, it wouldn’t change the fact that he was ripped away from everything he knows to be inserted into my fucked-up life.
“Tell me what I can do to make this better, Ty,” I say softly.
He just shrugs, refusing to meet my gaze. “Nothing. It is what it is.” His heavy sigh makes him sound twice as old as he is, and it cracks my heart. “Look, I’m sorry I ran away with Max. I won’t do it again.”
“Okay.”
“Can I go to bed now?”
I nod. I don’t know what else to say. I don’t know what else to do.
He turns on his heel, walks into his room, and closes the door behind him, leaving me standing alone in the living room, struggling to breathe.
• • •
I don’t sleep much that night. I don’t talk much, either. Not to Connor, not to Ty or Max, not even to Nancy. I don’t answer Trevor’s texts, which apologize for the fact that he didn’t get to Sophie’s room in time to delete the video. All I do is study. Dinner is pizza I order in and leave on the table while I lock myself in my room.
But Monday, I have to talk—to Professor Ozgur, as per an ominous e-mail he sent me over the weekend, “requesting” that I meet him to reevaluate my work for the semester. I’ve been anxiously tapping my foot on the floor of his office for almost ten minutes now, waiting for him to show up even though I’d be perfectly happy if he bailed.
“Miss Brandt.” No such luck on the bailing, I guess. He steps inside, wearing his usual stiff suit, and takes a seat at his desk. I notice he leaves his door slightly ajar, which I guess is the thing you have to do with sluts who’ve proven they can’t be alone with teachers without manhandling them, or something. “Thank you for coming.”
Definitely did not have a choice. I literally have to bite my tongue to stop those words from coming out, and opt to silently hand over a folder with all my work from this semester instead.
He accepts it and places it on his desk. “I hope you’ve already reviewed anything in here you’ll need to study for your final—”
“I have. And I have copies of all of them at home, anyway,” I say dismissively. “I did this work, Professor Ozgur, and I did it well. I know this work. Honestly and truly. I’m not worried about what you’ll find when you look through those papers. Hell, you can quiz me now, if you like.”
“That won’t be necessary,” he says wryly. “Miss Brandt….” He sighs. “Can I speak candidly with you?”
“I’d appreciate if you would.”
“Yes, I should have known.” He rests a hand on the folder and meets my gaze with his. “I’m not particularly concerned about the contents of this folder. I’ve seen your attendance improve one hundred percent since your parents’ accident, and your participation improve as well. I’m certain you are a very capable student, and the fact is, many would have crumbled under the pressures and trauma you’ve faced this past semester. You, however, rose to the occasion. Quite mightily, I would add.”
I have no idea what to say in response to this. Not only is it completely unexpected, but other than Connor and Nancy, he’s the first person to say what I’ve been desperate to hear: that I’m actually doing sort of okay, all things considered.
Fortunately, he doesn’t require an answer before continuing. “The fact is, Mr. Lawson—Connor—is an excellent TA, and, in my experience, quite a solid human being as well. It goes without saying that I in no way approve of the relationship between the two of you. There are rules against that sort of fraternization here, and for good reason.”
There’s a “but” coming. I know it. I can feel it. I just can’t quite believe it.
“But, I can understand that with everything that’s happened in your personal life this semester, there may have been extenuating circumstances. And, though I clearly don’t know Mr. Lawson’s character quite as well as I thought I did”—ouch—“I must concede that if ever there were a teaching assistant capable of…romantic involvement with a student without compromising any academic integrity, I do believe he would be it.”
Oh. My. God. “You’re not going to fire him.”
“I am not going to recommend his termination, no. It’s not entirely my say to have, and as chair of the department, Professor Rostov is extremely displeased, but that said, it’s extremely rare for a graduate student to be dismissed from the program without such a recommendation from his supervising professor.”
It’s been so long since I’ve heard good news that I’m not even sure this is it, but it sure as hell sounds like it. I could kiss Professor Ozgur right now, if that weren’t the massive problem behind this whole epic disaster in the first place. “Professor, thank you. Really, thank you. I pro
mise, you will not be sorry for supporting Conn—Mr. Lawson.”
He smiles thinly. “A video of the two of you was e-mailed to me, Miss Brandt. I did not watch it, but I think it’s safe to say I’m aware you’re on a first-name basis.”
My cheeks blaze, but he doesn’t seem to be raging, and Connor is almost definitely safe, and we are going to be okay. I know it. I feel it, with a certainty I haven’t felt about anything since…I don’t even know. “Yes, sir.” I jump up, because it’s just way too awkward to sit there anymore after that comment, and gather my things. “I’ll see you at the final. Thank you, sir.”
He nods. “I’ll see you at the final, and return this folder to you then.”
I nod back, then scramble out of his office as if Constantinople itself were burning to ashes at my feet.
I still have some time before I have to pick the boys up from school, so I take the long way back to my apartment, past Nijkamp Hall. I know I have to give Connor his space right now, but I feel like just seeing his building will make me feel the tiniest bit better.
Love is fucking weird.
I scan the third-floor windows of his building, as if I’ll catch him watching me like some creeper. And then I hear a laugh, followed by “Lizzie, right?” and nearly fall on my ass on a patch of ice.
More laughter as I straighten myself up and dust myself off. I pick my head up, prepared to face Sophie Springer minions, but I freeze when I realize why the voice that called my name sounded vaguely familiar.
Jess.
She’s standing with a guy in a peacoat and bright-red scarf and a Japanese girl wearing such high stiletto boots I’m not entirely sure how she’s still vertical. They’re both holding cigarettes, though Jess isn’t, and my fingers itch to pull one out of my bag, but I don’t carry them around anymore. “Right,” I say tightly.
“You all right there?” the guy asks, smirking as he blows out a stream of smoke.
I will be once I get away from you, I think but don’t say. It’s obvious all of them know Connor—know everything—and the last thing I need is to make things worse by letting them spread that I’m a childish brat.
