The Fifteenth Minute

by Sarina Bowen

  DJ turns his head to look at me with irritation in his eyes. “It’s not that easy, Lianne.”

  But I can’t stop myself from pushing. “What if…”

  “Stop,” he says. “Maybe I can’t be one of your projects.”

  “What can you be, then?” The words slip out before I can take them back.

  His mouth opens and then closes. “You think it’s even up to me? What I want and what I can have aren’t even in the same time zone.”

  I wait for him to say more, but he doesn’t. I’ve effed up the entire evening by shooting off my big mouth. “I shouldn’t have pushed.”

  He hugs his knees with the same arms that should be hugging me. “It’s not your fault, smalls. None of this is. We have really shitty timing, is all.”

  There’s more silence, which I fill by worrying. “What’s supposed to happen next, anyway?”

  “My lawyer wants me to sue the college, and I’m supposed to decide by next week. But I’m really not comfortable being some kind of crusader against the way they’re allowed to handle sexual assault. I mean—right this second my sister and her doofus friends are painting the campus red. And I’m sitting here hoping that a couple of meatheads don’t try to take advantage of them. And, Jesus, then there’s Georgia…” He lets the sentence die.

  “What about her?” I’d forgotten that story he’d told me about Leo’s ex.

  DJ shakes his head. “I just wish I knew what she’d make of this whole mess. The lawsuit. The politics.”

  “Then why don’t you ask her? She might really be able to help you.” He’d said they were once close…

  “Nah,” he says, leaning back against the wall. “I don’t want to trouble her with my bullshit.”

  “DJ!” It comes out as a gasp. “It’s not bullshit. It’s your life we’re talking about here.” And I’m part of that life, or at least I wish I was. But he’s not going to look at it that way, no matter how badly I wish he would.

  Am I being selfish? Am I being crazy? I’ve never wanted anything as badly as I want him. And the flat look on his face right now makes me want to scream. So I begin evacuation procedures. I grab my copy of the play and scramble off the bed. “You’re not Macbeth,” I whisper. “But you play him so well.”

  His head snaps back, actually thudding against the wall behind him. “That’s easy for you to say.” And now I know I’ve overstepped, because his face flushes with anger. “But my parents look at me and wonder if I raped someone. My brother looks at me and sees Georgia’s attacker. The college treats me like a leper. The whole world thinks you fart glitter, babe. Not sure you can understand.”

  My blood pressure doubling, I grab my backpack off the floor, toss it on my shoulder, then look at DJ.

  The dark eyes that look back at me are pained. “I’m sorry,” he says quickly. “That was uncalled for.”

  I can’t even respond, because then he’ll be able to hear how much those words hurt me. Instead, I turn the doorknob and slip out of his room.

  He doesn’t call me back.

  Closing his bedroom door behind me, I lurch forward then halt as peals of laughter come from the living room. There’s no way I’m passing through there. My coat is still in the kitchen, so I go in and grab it off the chair. Then I sneak out the back door.

  It’s a cold, damp night, but I trot away from the house without even stopping to put on my coat.

  He’s under too much pressure, I tell myself. Anyone would snap. But I’d thought he was the only one at Harkness who didn’t think of me as a spoiled brat. Now I know he does.

  I’m halfway home before I realize the mistake I made when we argued. I’d said it. I actually said it out loud—the Scottish play’s title character’s name. The ill-fated king who is vanquished in Act Five. Done in by fate.

  God damn it. God damn everything.

  23

  Omigod the Hypocrisy

  DJ

  When the back door slams shut, I flinch.

  I hate the idea of Lianne walking back to campus alone, mad at me. Gripping the quilt underneath me in two hands, I fight the urge to chase her down and apologize again. There is nobody in my life so amazing. I’ve never met a girl like Lianne—never felt so much attraction to anyone. Ever. But it’s not fair for me to string her along. Nothing I could possibly say tonight would fix the mess I’m in.

  I’m a guy with nothing to offer her except scandal. So I stay put.

  After a little while I pull out my phone and text my sister. We need to talk. Sorry I didn’t do that earlier when I had the chance. At least there’s one little wrinkle in my life I can smooth out.

  She replies immediately. I can be back in an hour. Love you!

  Aw. I miss my sister. Unlike me and Leo, Vi and I have always been close. It’s probably because she was just a baby when I joined the family. Leo was older, and he resented me, I think. I remember so clearly the kindergarten-aged Leo standing in the center of our bedroom, telling me that I was not, in fact, his brother. We were probably fighting over a toy or something, and surely Mom leapt in and shut down that line of argument. But you never really forget those words after you hear them even once.

  Speaking of our mom…

  I dial her next. “Danny,” she answers, her voice full of surprise. “Is everything okay? Violet got there all right?”

  Clearly I don’t call Mom very often. Whoops. “Everything is fine. Vi is at a concert with her friends for another hour. But…” I clear my throat. “Mom, I gotta tell her tonight. She’s not stupid. She knows something is wrong, and I hate lying.”

  Mom is quiet for a second. “You do what you think is right,” she says softly.

  “Look, I know the whole thing embarrasses you. But Vi can keep a secret.”

  “Oh, Danny.” She sighs. “That’s not the reason we didn’t tell her.”

  “It’s not?” I croak. “Seemed like it.”

  “No, honey! Your sister is just so emotional. She loves you so much, and she’ll be so angry for you. We just… She’s a senior, and we were trying to keep her focused on school until we knew more. I’m sorry if I gave you the wrong impression.”

  “Uh, okay.” The back of my throat has begun to ache. “Vi is tough, Mom. She isn’t going to fall apart just because I’m having some trouble.”

  “No, she won’t fall apart. But she’ll try to throw herself into finding a solution. She’ll wage a campaign or plan a revolution before breakfast time. I’m going to brace myself for the T-shirt-making and the drama.”

  I laugh, but it comes out like choking. “I’ll try to calm her down before she goes home tomorrow.”

  “I’m sorry, sweetie. I should have leveled with her already.”

  “It’s okay,” I say automatically. Though it isn’t really.

  “She was just thirteen when poor Georgia was…” Mom sighs. “Vi was so upset. She didn’t sleep for a week.”

  “None of us did,” I say a little too sharply. The night we got the call was rough. Georgia’s father flew down to Florida to be with her. And Leo spent the next several days pacing our house and punching the heavy bag in the basement. He kept trying to get Georgia on the phone, but she wasn’t speaking much. It was brutal. I haven’t thought about those dark days for a long time.

  “Anyway, I love you, Danny. I never want you to think that I’m ashamed of you. That’s just not true.”

  My eyes feel hot now. I didn’t know how badly I’ve needed to hear her say that. “Love you, too,” I grind out.

  “If your sister wants to call home tonight, I’ll keep my phone on. Even if it’s late, you can tell her to call me.”

  “Thanks. Love you.”

  I lie on my back staring at the ceiling for a while after we hang up. Not for the first time I wonder where Georgia is tonight. Last I knew, she’d been heading for Duke and a spot on their women’s tennis team. Lianne told me to call her, and I’d sneered at the idea. But really, I’m just a coward.

  Which is not something I w
ant to be.

  I pick up my phone again. Scrolling through my list of contacts, Georgia’s name is still there. I used to call this number if I needed a ride and couldn’t find my brother. She always had an extra minute to say hello to me. We also had a game going for a while where we texted each other lyrics to songs, and the recipient had to name the album and the year it came out, without cheating.

  Smiling at my ceiling, I know what to do. Though it takes me a few minutes to settle on a song, I text her two lines from “Where Are U Now” and wait.

  The reply doesn’t take more than a minute. Really, D? A Bieber song?

  You didn’t give the year, I protest. Or the album.

  My phone rings a second later. “I’m rusty,” Georgia says immediately when I answered. “It’s been a while.”

  The happy sound of her voice is like a shock to my system. “You sound good, Gigi.”

  “You too, Danny boy! How are you?”

  “Good,” I say immediately. Although that’s a big goddamn lie. “Okay, not good. Do you have a few minutes?”

  “Of course I do,” she says, her voice serious now. “What’s the matter? Is everyone okay?”

  By “everyone” I’m pretty sure she means my brother. But talk of Leo will have to wait. “Yeah nobody’s dying. But I’m in a tight spot, and I wanted your advice about something. I mean, only if you’re comfortable talking about it. It’s a really weird story.” I can feel myself backing away from the conversation already. I’m just so tired of admitting I’ve been accused of doing something awful.

  “Spill, Danny,” she says.

  * * *

  An hour later, we’re still on the phone when Vi waltzes into my room and sits on my feet. I hold the phone away from my ear for a second. “Can you give me just a minute? I’ll be right with you.”

  She rolls her eyes. “Yes, your highness. Where’s your movie star girlfriend?”

  “I was an ass and she left.”

  Vi’s face falls. “I’m getting a drink. And then you’re going to tell me everything.”

  “Sorry,” I say to Georgia. “It’s a little crazy around here.”

  “Must be. You have a girlfriend?”

  “Well…” I sigh. “I’m crazy about this girl. But if I get kicked out, that will be the end of it.”

  She’s quiet for a second. “I hope that doesn’t happen, D.”

  “Me too. But enough about my shitty life. We didn’t talk enough about you.”

  “That’s okay. I’m in the running for an awesome job with a professional sports team.”

  “Really?” I laugh. “That’s great! Which one?”

  “I’m not going to tell you the details, because in the first place you need to go, and in the second place I don’t want to jinx it. But if I get this thing, I promise to call you up and spill.”

  “You better. Call me if you don’t, too.”

  “It’s a deal. And please let me know if they hold a public hearing for your case? Because I want to come up and support you.”

  “You’re the best, Gigi. I’ll let you know what happens.”

  “Love you, Danny.”

  My heart gives a stab. “Love you too, babe. Sorry it took so long to call.”

  “Me too, you. Goodnight!”

  I hang up with Georgia, and my head is spinning. It sucked telling her about my case. But apparently it’s Make Danny Feel Better Night, because she showered me with support. I think I expected her to say something like, “You must be a terrible person if this girl pointed her finger at you.” But she didn’t say that at all. She said, “Oh my God, I’m so sorry.” And then she said something that wasn’t exactly uplifting, but it made me feel better anyway. “Tread carefully, sweetie. There is no issue thornier than this one. You have to stick up for yourself—I insist. But if the lawsuit turns your stomach, then don’t let them push you around.”

  “But does their lawsuit offend you?” I’d asked. That’s what I’d really called to ask.

  She thought about it a while before answering. “Yes and no. I don’t like the idea of a bunch of men deciding how rape cases are handled. That’s not cool. But it sure sounds like your college needs an ass-kicking. Here’s a big fat irony—you and I are home tonight, having a serious conversation about sexual politics. Meanwhile, half a mile from you I’ll bet there’s a bunch of guys in a frat-house basement getting girls wasted to improve their chances tonight. There’s work to do, that’s for sure. But I think education is a better tool than a class-action suit.”

  I let out a breath. “Okay, I’m going to tell my lawyer to shove it on the lawsuit. It just hits me the wrong way.”

  “Follow your gut, Danny Boy. You’re a good guy, and I know you’ll make the right decision.”

  That made me smile. And I’m still smiling now as Violet comes back into my room holding a beer. “Okay, what happened?”

  I try to take the beer from her hand, but she holds it out of my reach. “That’s for me, right? You’re eighteen.”

  “Omigod, the hypocrisy.” She takes a swig. “We’ll split it. And you’ll tell me what the hell is going on.”

  I make room for her on the bed. “My news sucks. But it’s not the end of the world.” Even if it sometimes feels like it.

  “Are you in trouble, Danny?” My sister’s eyes were wide with worry.

  “Yeah. But not, like, with the cops or anything. The college thinks I did something ugly, but they’re wrong.”

  Violet moves closer to me on the bed, then hands me the beer. “Okay. Take a sip and then tell me. I can take it.”

  I take a modest sip and hand it back, thinking the women in my life were all pretty amazing.

  24

  Glitter Farts

  Smalls—

  I’m so sorry I was a dick the other night. It turns out that wallowing in your problems turns you into an asshole.

  You’re the best thing about this whole year. I don’t know what’s going to happen to us, but I want you to know that I’m doing my best to figure it out. I called Georgia last night after you left. You told me to do it, so I did. She was really helpful to me, and so thank you for kicking me in the ass when I needed it.

  I also told my sister everything. Not only did I tell her about my mess with Annie, but I told her all about meeting you at Capri’s. The way you played “I Wanna Sex You Up,” and then said it was an accident. :) I told her every (g-rated) thing about you, and then she ripped me a new one for losing my cool when you were just trying to help me.

  I’m sorry. In case you missed that the first time, I’m really, really sorry.

  My sister is awesome, and if everything goes my way, I hope she’ll visit again so we can all go out somewhere together.

  But if it doesn’t go my way, I’m really going to miss you. So please return one of my calls so I can apologize in person.

  D.

  * * *

  Lianne

  “So that explains why you’ve been in a mood this week,” Bella says from over my shoulder. “Are you going to call him?”

  I ignore the question, because I don’t feel like talking about it. “Let me ask you something, and I want you to be honest.” I stand up and face her.

  “Kay,” Bella says, sipping her coffee.

  “Do I need implants?”

  Bella chokes on her coffee. “What?” she asks between choking sounds. “Who said that?”

  “My asshole manager.”

  My neighbor’s hands begin waving in the air because she’s coughing too much to speak, yet she has a lot to say. I think.

  “Do you need the hug of life?” I ask.

  Her eyes are watering when she answers me. “No—to both questions. Don’t get a boob job. Your future nurse practitioner does not approve of unnecessary surgery just to please a man.” Bella is starting nursing school in the fall so she can be a nurse midwife and talk about vaginas professionally. “Are you seriously considering it?”

  “Not seriously. I know I shouldn’t list
en. But it is Hollywood. And my boobs are—”

  “—Fun-sized,” Bella finishes.

  Ugh. “My head is not in a good place,” I admit.

  “Is this because DJ was an ass?” Bella probes. I haven’t told her the whole story, so she’s digging.

  “No.” I click my email shut so I don’t have to read his apology for the tenth time. “Okay, yes. That’s part of it.”

  “What did he do?” she asks softly.

  “He got mad at me for meddling. I told him I’d been researching the way colleges handle sexual assault, and he kind of lost it.” I open up DragonFire to see how my dragons are holding up. I feel a video-game binge coming on. Forget my ninety-minute rule. It didn’t do me any good.

  “Men aren’t always good at accepting help,” she says.

  “Pretty sure he had a point,” I grumble. “He shouldn’t let me tell him what to do. I’m not even a little bit impartial.”

  “You care about him, though. That counts for something.”

  I pick up the game controller and fire it up. “I care too much. And if he leaves, I’m going to be really hacked off at the universe.”

  Bella nudges my chair with her toe so it swings me a little bit. “I know, pequeña. You aren’t very good at taking chances on people. So you need to make sure they stick around.”

  “I take chances,” I growl while staring at a bunch of dragons which are nothing but pixels of light on a very expensive screen.

  “Come to Capri’s with me,” she says. “A little pizza and some weak beer will cleanse your spirit.”

  “Can’t,” I say automatically.

  “DJ will probably be there. And I’ve got a stack of quarters you could use in the jukebox.”

  The pull is so strong. I want to see DJ’s smile so badly it aches. But to what end? He’s probably going to get snatched away from me. And that will just suck for both of us. Why should I put us through that any longer?

  The screen lights up with messages. Vindikator! You’re back again tonight! Awesome. These are the friends who won’t desert me. We’re not close in the real sense of the word. But it’s better this way.