by Nora Cobb
“Let go of me,” I snarl.
“Whatever you want, Astrid.” Pierce yanks my arm back and pushes me forward. My heel catches on a rough spot on the pavement, and my body loses its balance as I start to fall into Terri. He tries clumsily to catch me, but he wasn’t ready. We both tumble down, and there’s a nasty crunch as we land on his backpack.
Pierce laughs at us sprawled on the grass, Terri under me, wincing as he reaches underneath his hip and pulls out his broken glasses, and me with my skirt up, which I quickly pull down.
“Take her,” says Pierce, “I’m done. I’ve had a mighty good fuck. You’re simping after the wrong slut, Terri. You have nothing to barter with.”
Terri’s glasses look like a trapezoid with a dangling line as he tries to put them back on his face. They sit askew on his nose. It’s not clear if he’s angry or trying to see as he narrows his eyes on Pierce. “Shut up about her!” he shouts. “You’re the slut. Just leave her alone.”
“I’m the slut?” Pierce laughs. He brushes his light brown hair back like a porcupine as he flashes a perfect smile. The boy is aiming for the kill. “That’s no way to talk to your princess. She fucked three ogres so you wouldn’t be turned into a frog.”
“What does that even mean?” demands Terri.
“It means she’s been whoring herself out so you wouldn’t get beat up.” Pierce glares at Terri. “Don’t you remember the time in the boys’ locker room?”
“Shut up!” shouts Terri. He looks at me with terror in his eyes as his face goes pale.
“Of course you do,” continues Pierce, “We pinned you down after you took your shower. You have a big one, Terri. Did mommy like the pictures? Should we show Astrid? She likes dick.”
I try to keep my cool, but it’s hard when you’re gawking. I look at Pierce and then at Terri. Pierce grabs my arm in a vise-like grip and pulls me toward him again. His hand tugs at the bottom of my shirt.
“Come on, Astrid,” he says. “He’ll show you his if you show him yours. He’s a big boy.”
Terri looks ill as he tugs at the hem of his blazer.
“She’s got nice ones,” Pierce winks, “I’ve seen them up close.” Then Pierce pointedly stares at Terri’s crotch.
Terri grabs his backpack and stumbles as he tries to figure out what direction to run. I watch as he runs stumbles down the hill, half running, half falling, headed in the direction of the dorms.
“You are a sick asshole,” I push Pierce away, “And you lied.”
“He’s so sensitive.” Pierce watches as I tuck in my shirt. “Terri writes poetry, you know. I stole some out of his room for my English assignment. A long rant about a Norse word for divinely beautiful. Where do you suppose he got that idea from?”
I feel ill, which only makes Pierce grin. My eyes follow Terri, who’s doubled over as he tries to run.
“Shame what happened last year,” continues Pierce.
“Tell me, you shit.”
“Temper,” he warns. “Terri was put on suicide watch after he slit his wrists over a girl. His roommate found him before he bled out. They had to replace his bed. He should at least have the good sense to do it in the bathroom out of respect for the staff.”
I stare at him, amazed by his cruelty. “You are one sick bastard.”
“You can waste time flattering me,” he replies. “Or go save your little friend before he goes searching for the nearest sharp object.”
I kick off my heels, pick them up, and race down the hill as fast as I can move. The wind beats me in the face, and I wipe my eyes. How could I not have noticed? But I only see Terri at the dining hall, and he spends more time staring at his soup than talking to me. Of course, he’s shy, but why? It’s not the 80s anymore. He doesn’t have to be around girls. Geeks are the new hunks.
It’s because of people like Pierce. I think as I pick up the pace.
***
I wait until a kid comes out and then rush into Terri’s dorm. He lives in one of the dorms that form the quad. The dorms face one another and alternate boy and girl. The upperclassmen live on the top floors, while the underclassmen live on the lower floors—most of the residents major in math and science, which determines who lives there.
Because Terri’s a senior, I race to the top floor and start looking for his room. Eventually, I find a kid in the lounge to ask. He stares at me with wide eyes, and I want to shout at him to hurry up.
“He’s in number fourteen.” His jaw is slack as he stares, and I wonder how many girls come into this dorm.
“Terri,” I tap on his door, “Terri.” No one answers, so I try the doorknob. It opens, and I walk in slowly. Terri sits at his desk with his back to the room. He’s sniffing periodically, and the poor kid is taping his glasses together.
“You don’t have a spare pair?” I ask softly.
“I didn’t say come in.”
“Which one is your bed?” I ask.
His eyes widen. I decide to grab the chair at the other desk and pull it toward his. Quietly, I sit beside him and watch as he cuts black duct tape into thin strips. His fingers are long and elegant as he manipulates the tape around the broken frame. He moves like a craftsman.
“Do you do work with your hands?” I ask, bored with the silence.
“I like to carve…with a knife.” He motions to the twin bed on the right-hand side.
There’s a collection of wooden ships above it on a long shelf. I get up and walk over, mesmerized by the intricate detail displayed on each ship painted to look like a miniature of the real things.
“Do you ever put them in bottles?” I ask.
“I keep those at home. These are the ones I made while at Stonehaven.”
He’s quiet again. If there’s going to be a conversation, I’ll have to start it. I sit back down beside him and watch his hands fit the arm of his glasses back onto the frame. I’ve had to do tough things like telling off adults twice my age when they tried to take advantage of my mother. But I haven’t had difficult conversations until this year.
“Pierce is a jerk,” I tell him. “I never had sex with him or touched him.”
“I didn’t think that you had,” Terri replies wanly, “At least not with him.”
I pause, trying to pick my words carefully. “I do have a crush, and he knows it, but it’s not Pierce.”
“Or me either,” he replies. “I wasn’t only upset by what that imbecile said about you but also what he said about me. I didn’t want you to ever hear those things. To know that about me.”
“It’s okay, Terri.” I try to make eye contact, but he refuses to turn his head. “We all have something going on.”
“You won’t date me because guys like Pierce Vanderbilt use me for boxing practice.” Terri sniffs, rubbing the back of his hand quickly over his eye. “He humiliates me because it’s entertaining. He wants to prove his masculinity by tearing mine apart. And that’s the type of guy you girls chase after.”
“I told you, Terri. I didn’t sleep with him.”
Terri faces me, and his eyes are bloodshot and watery. His gaze accuses me of a crime worse than anything Pierce could do to him.
“But you would,” he accuses me. “I can tell he’s your type. A real asshole. Big, mean, and dumb.”
My patience is drying up. “He’s not my type.”
“Then why are you so physical with them?” he asks, “Why do you watch them? Every time Bryce or Wyatt walks into the dining hall, your eyes follow them until they sit down.”
“I don’t do that,” I snap at him. My cheeks flame at the thought of even wanting them. “Bryce is a bully.”
“He’s a challenge, Astrid, and you like a challenge. You probably want to fuck him. You and all the other sluts who throw themselves at those assholes.”
He slams his broken glasses back down on the desk, and they collapse in a flattened heap. “I thought I liked you. I thought you were going to be different. That you wouldn’t get sucked in. But you all do. You want to be treated well, but you c
hase after the jerks.”
“Like you?” I ask, my face hot. “Because you’re acting like a real nice guy. I don’t give a shit about them shaming you in the shower.” I shake my head. “Sorry, I don’t mean it like that. We all have crap to deal with, and I don’t think badly of you because they ganged up on you. That reflects on them. Not you.”
Terri’s bottom lip quivers, and I hope to God he’s not about to cry. I’ve comforted the biggest grown men you’d never think would ever cry at funerals and births, but not now. Please don’t cry over me. I’m not all that special.
“Why don’t you go leave me alone?” Terri stares at me as if leaving is the last thing he wants me to do.
I sigh and stay put. “I’m not a slut, and if you say that again, I’m gone. I’m sorry. I grew up in a rough neighborhood, and I’m not used to this whole hiding meaning behinds your words bullshit here. I say what’s on my mind and I’ll just say this: I like you, Terri, but we’ll only be friends. If you knew me, and I mean really knew me, you’d think you were crazy for ever looking at me.”
“I doubt it,” he mumbles.
I reach over and pick up his mangled glasses. A leg clatters onto his desk, and he sighs.
“You’re rich,” I turn them over, “Why’d you buy cheap frames?”
“You know that expression ‘a penny saved is a penny earned’?”
I nod.
“Well, my ancestor didn’t say it, but I live it.” Terri reaches into his desk drawer and pulls out a pair of tinted wire frames. He’s better-looking wearing those glasses, but I don’t tell him that. I don’t think I have to. Terri smiles at me as if he heard my thoughts.
“We’re late for lunch,” I tell him, standing up. “Funny, the one period of the day I excel in.”
Terri nods his head. “I’m sorry, Astrid. You mind if we never talk about it again?”
“Only if you keep being my friend.”
Chapter 29
Astrid
We head out of his room, and Terri makes eye contact the whole way. We climb down the stairs, talking about nothing in particular, the way friends bullshit with one another. And for a fleeting second, I wonder if I would have dated Terri if he were less shy. But I doubt it. Terri’s right. Since the summer, my eyes have been watching the assholes’ table when I thought I was less than nothing to them.
“Are you going to buy another pair of glasses?” I ask.
He shrugs. “I should. They have an optometrist in the town center.”
“Let me know,” I reply, “Roni and I will go with you.”
His smile falters for a second as he stares at me, and I know he’s not over his crush. Terri was hoping we’d go alone. I smile back at him, and he smiles a little brighter. Terri holds the door open for me, and we head over toward the dining hall. To watch us, you’d never think we just had a heated argument. It’s something new to me to have an argument and not want to rip someone a new one for expressing what they think of me in ugly terms.
We’re in our state of friendship bliss when it comes to a nasty halt. Dr. Rawlins is standing in front of the dining hall with Gary by her side. She is scanning the campus like a hawk seeking out mice running across a field. Gary spots me and tugs Dr. Rawlins’ white suit jacket. She looks sharply at his greasy hand and then narrows her gaze on me.
Terri stares in terror as Dr. Rawlins moves toward us faster than a killer shark that hasn’t eaten in a month.
“Astrid Bowen!” she shouts.
Terri sighs loudly as his knees bend, and he stops moving.
“Thanks, friend,” I whisper.
“Sorry, Astrid, but I’d rather deal with Pierce than Dr. Rawlins when she’s pissed. Good luck.”
“Luck’s not going to save me now,” I whisper. I don’t know why she’s barreling down on me, but I’ve stirred shit up, and it’s only been a month.
“My office,” she says sternly, “Walk behind me. I can’t even look at you.”
Terri’s hand grazes mine, and he gives me a look loaded with sympathy as I walk away reluctantly. Dr. Rawlins and I go on a two-woman march across Stonehaven campus, which earns looks of wonder and amazement. I keep my eyes toward the ground, not daring to meet anyone’s gaze. If I see Charlotte, or worse, Wyatt, I’ll probably drop to the ground and dig a hole to hide in.
We walk up the front steps, and Dr. Rawlins whips the front door open wide, almost hitting me. She has powerful biceps; who knew. I make jokes to myself only to keep my knees from shaking. Authority has always been a sore spot. I resent it, but when I’m cornered, it scares me silly.
I hurry into Rawlins’ office as Alice cranes her neck to see before the door slams shut.
“Sit.” she points to the chair in front of her desk before she sits down in her own.
The computer monitor is off as she stares at me like I’m on the screen. She’s a beautiful woman with perfect angular features, but when she’s angry, those eyes start drilling holes into your skull.
She doesn’t speak and I begin to fidget in the chair, wondering if it’s a different one. It feels harder this time, like being chained to a boulder, waiting for vultures to pick the flesh off my bones.
“Do you know why I called you into my office?” Her voice sounds borderline shrill.
Play it cool, Astrid. If I’ve learned one thing in my life, it’s not to confess until they show you the evidence. Let them tell you what you’ve done wrong. As long as you don’t incriminate yourself, there’s always a way out. I shake my head while biting down on my lips.
Rawlins picks up a pen and taps it on the edge of her desk as her cheeks turn a splotchy shade of red. I bite my lips harder, wondering if I’ll break the skin and bleed. I imagine I can taste the metallic blood already. I’ve done so much I shouldn’t have done—the Pit at the top of the list. Say nothing, even if it takes her all day to spill.
“You have no clue?” she asks in a harsh voice.
I shake my head wildly, this time with wide eyes. Dr. Rawlins cracks first, but I’m sure if torture were legal, I would be listing every sin I’ve committed since turning twelve. Dr. Rawlins yanks out a bottom desk drawer that screeches on its metal runners from the force. She rips out my cut-up skirt and flings it down on her desk.
“My skirt?” I stare. “You went into my room?”
“Read the handbook. You have no privacy here.”
“Wait? Am I in trouble for cutting up my skirt?”
Dr. Rawlins rolls her eyes better than any teenage girl I know. She glares at me, and I swear they must have a class on Bitch Looks 101 because Charlotte can do the same exact thing. Rawlins has decided not to waste any more time on the silent treatment. She’s convinced I won’t crack under that kind of pressure.
“Have you read your handbook?” she asks with a sarcastic tone. She just wants to hear me say no.
“The white binder with the logo?” I ask.
She reaches into her desk drawer again and tosses a blue textbook across the desk. I reach out quickly, anxious it’s about to skitter across the surface and fall into my lap.
Those cool eyes are on me again. “That’s your handbook. I found it on the top shelf in your closet. And judging by the inch of dust on it, you haven’t even cracked the cover.”
I squirm as she stares another hole into me. “I didn’t know it was mine.”
“You attended orientation.” She scowls, but I look back blankly. “Never mind. It was an oversight. The school reviews the handbook with the freshman but not the upperclassmen. Someone should have reviewed it with you. So, let’s start.”
“I have class this afternoon,” I squeak.
“This is your class, Ms. Bowen. Open up to page one twenty-four, and read the first page.”
Fuck. I balance the heavy book in my hands and open it to page one twenty-four. My eyes bug out of my head, and Rawlins smirks with satisfaction as I stare at huge print letters that read Sexual Conduct.
“Read it out loud,” she insists.
&nbs
p; I clear my throat. “Sexual Conduct. As your body matures, certain urges are felt, and as nature takes its predestined path, there will be a strong desire to fill those needs.” I can feel the heat burning my cheeks as I read. I’ve never talked about sex with an adult, not even my own mother, and never like this. Never in prissy proper terms with diagrams and pictures.
“You know all that, I’m certain.” She waves her hand. “Skip ahead to page one twenty-eight and read, starting with the second paragraph. Out loud.”
I clear the bubble of phlegm out of my throat then swallow. “Students are expected to conduct themselves in a superior manner when intermingling with members of the opposite and same sex. The pursuit of carnal activity is strictly forbidden while pursuing academic studies at Stonehaven. Civilized people refrain from intimate sexual activity with themselves and others until certain criteria are met—the most important being matrimony.”
