Vérité

by Rachel Blaufeld

  “There’s got to be more than that. You’re here doing your own ordinary thing. What about you?” Tiberius studied me as we stopped at the corner, waiting for the light to change. The air was muggy and still, the temperature clearly not the reason why my arms just broke out in goose pimples.

  “La La Land born and bred—”

  “What did you just say?” he interrupted.

  “La La Land. You know, Los Angeles. The land of make-believe and silicone lips.”

  He stopped walking and drew his brows together as he brought the tip of his finger to my lips. Sparks fizzled between his warm touch and my chapped lips.

  “Are these fake?” he asked.

  I couldn’t help but laugh out a no, and it came out all breathy rather than giggly.

  He started walking again, his hip brushing my side as he weaved around a large bush, and said, “You were saying? La La Land.”

  “Well, I was born in the heart of Beverly Hills, brought up with a silver spoon in my mouth. The perfect baby for the perfect couple who had trouble getting knocked up, but could afford the best fertility treatments money could buy. I was a little pink bundle of joy with my future all laid out for me when I was little more than a few chromosomes in a petri dish. Except I liked to run and wear cut-off jean shorts instead of ball gowns. I got here on my own too, and then I almost threw it all away.”

  That was all I was willing to risk saying. If I really wanted to get rid of Tiberius, I would tell him the whole truth, but some nagging feeling wouldn’t let me do it.

  We stopped in front of athletic housing now, just standing still, neither of us sure what to do next.

  “This is me,” I said, cocking my head to the right where my dorm sat lit up for the night.

  “Okay. I actually live in the townhouses behind the field house. Men’s basketball stays there because we live here year-round.”

  “Oh, wow, that’s crazy. And the girls live in the dorms?” I shuffled my weight from one flip-flop to the other.

  “Yeah, I guess.” He leaned back against the street light, which I was grateful for. I wasn’t staring at his chest now.

  “Two of my roommates are women’s basketball players. Seniors. Seems a bit unfair that they don’t get to be in the townhouses too.”

  “It’s all in who brings in the most bucks, Rex,” Tiberius said with a little smirk.

  “Yeah, yeah, I know.”

  Nothing left to say, we stared at each other as silence hung in the humid air between us.

  “Good night, Ty. Thanks for walking me back,” I said, sticking out my hand to shake his.

  His brow furrowed, he squinted at my hand before he leaned forward and kissed me on my cheek. Then he slid his finger gently along my non-fake lips.

  “Good night, Rex. It’s been extra-ordinary chatting with you,” he said, then sprinted off toward the field house.

  Although I didn’t see Tiberius for the remainder of the weekend, I thought about him more than I cared to admit. What was he playing at, wanting to be friends? Being extra-ordinary? Wasn’t that what I was looking for my whole life—ordinary? And why wasn’t he busy or hanging with the team?

  They didn’t officially play until the beginning of November. Yes, I’d looked up the basketball schedule, so I knew he was around. But I didn’t know what he was doing. Not a clue.

  When I got disgusted with myself, I started a new game. Trees. Tennis. Très. Truth. Tiberius.

  But the game worked against me. It felt like the secrets of happiness—the truth of it all—were tied up in Tiberius.

  Ginny was busy with extended soccer practices and her own personal pursuits, which included Bryce and more Bryce, leaving me to my own devices and thoughts. It was an all-too-familiar place for me after last year when I was left to recuperate in my isolation. I’d long given up discussing the distant past with my therapist. We dealt with my recent past with Pierre, and that was it. When practices picked up again, I took a mental health break from therapy.

  I kicked my feet up on the coffee table, absently running my finger over my scar on Sunday afternoon, swinging back and forth between pondering what Tiberius was doing, and thinking about my recent departure from therapy.

  Just then, my new reality dawned on me: I was thinking about Pierre but didn’t feel the need to do my stupid P-related therapy technique. Which was P-E-R-F-E-C-T. So perfect, I made popcorn and watched The Proposal on TV, idling away the remainder of my weekend.

  When Tiberius missed study hour on Monday, I found myself irrationally concerned. As in crazy concerned enough to run by the field house on Tuesday morning after practice, pounding down the sidewalk as I headed toward the townhouses. I told myself I needed to get a little extra mileage, but the truth was that I was curious and maybe a little worried about my new friend.

  My quads were working triple-time as I barreled down the hill, my knees feeling every strike on the pavement as “Bad Romance” by Lady Gaga whined in my ears. Watching the concrete to ensure I didn’t trip, my eyes widened as several pair of slides came into view. There were purple and red and gold socks tucked into an equally colorful array of squishy flip-flops right under my nose when I finally came to a halt.

  Breathing heavily, I stood up straight, craning my neck to meet the eyes of the five giants staring me down. I was a dwarf compared to all of them, and at five foot eight, that was no easy feat. Because it was impossible to speak until I caught my breath, I stuck my palm up in the air to offer a wave, unable to even say hello.

  “Heya, Rex.”

  I nodded at Tiberius as I tugged at my earbuds and breathed out, “Hey there.” The words rushed from my mouth as sweat dripped down my brow, despite the dewy early-morning air. My chest heaved the whole time, and I didn’t think it was from the running. At least, not entirely.

  As the boys, or men, continued to stare, my appearance finally registered with me. I looked down at my sweat-soaked white tank, realizing the lines of my hot pink sports bra were clearly on display. Beads of sweat dripped from my ponytail onto the royal blue running shorts that revealed rather than covered my legs.

  Mentally chastising myself, I was sure they were thinking, Who is this crazy white chick that Tiberius is talking to?

  “What you doing over here?” Tiberius asked, his Jersey accent heavier than before.

  “Um, I was just getting a little more distance for my legs and—”

  “You come to see our man, Ty?” the tallest of the bunch asked, interrupting me. Even with a broad smile and his longish hair in braids, his height was more than daunting as he loomed over me.

  Another one in a basketball tank and wide-legged Nike sweats that read JUST DO IT down the leg threw his arm around Tiberius, shaking his large frame like an action figure. “Looks like this pretty thing has a crush on you, my man,” he taunted Tiberius, slapping him on the back.

  “No, nothing like that,” I blurted. “I was just curious. I’ve never been down here before.” Like an idiot, I waved my hand around, indicating the townhouse complex.

  “Uh-huh,” came from the darkest of the bunch. He stood off to the back of the group, his head shaved smooth, and large green Beats by Dr. Dre covering his ears. “You gotta a little case of the jungle fever, honey? Gonna let my bro cure you of it? Then you can go back to bedding some white-as-fuck frat boy.”

  Ty’s eyes went wide. His head swung back and forth as he took in the interaction between his teammate and me, which wasn’t really a conversation, but more an undressing of my intentions.

  Remorse slid over me like a bad chill. I’d never intended to come between Tiberius and his teammates. And his continued silence made it crystal clear that he didn’t want that either.

  Digging deep, I found a sliver of courage and said, “Hey, I didn’t mean any harm. No jungle whatever here.” Throwing my arms up in the air, giving them a big whiff of my armpits, I continued in mock surrender. “It’s not like that. So sorry I gave off that vibe. Ty and I have study hall together, and h
e was telling me about your housing. And, well, I’ve been here two years and hadn’t seen it yet, so I was curious. That’s it, gentlemen.”

  The one standing at the back of the group stepped up, pulling his headphones off as he pointed a long finger at me. “Oh, I know you. You’re the track girl who fucked the professor. Lemme get this right, you going from old to young now?”

  “Jamel, let her be, bro!” I heard Tiberius say as I slipped my earbuds back in and hightailed it back up the hill I’d come down.

  Foolishly, I might add.

  After my second full day of classes, I was downing a shot of espresso in the Union as I studied a piece of paper spread in front of me with a line drawn right down the middle. Without a word, someone slid into my booth right next to me. Before I could grab my paper, his knees bumped into the table, causing it to shift, casting my notes all over the place and leaving them in clear view.

  Horrified, I slammed my hand down, trying to regain control of my scribbles, but Tiberius had quicker reflexes.

  Snatching the paper, he started to read aloud. “Pros. I won’t get kicked off the team. I won’t get into any more trouble. I’ll read my fiction book since I’m all caught up with work. Cons. I have to look at Ty. He’ll skip and won’t be there, and I’ll worry even more. If he’s there, I have to explain myself to him. His friends think I like him, and they know what I did.”

  Finished reading, he shoved the paper under his thigh rather than return it to me, maintaining control. “Hmm, looks to me like the cons are winning. You ditching study hour?” he asked, staring me down.

  My cheeks burning, I stared holes into the dark green wooden table in front of me, unable to look him straight in the face. “Considering it.”

  I reached toward his massive thigh, trying to dislodge my paper. He was wearing shorts, and a shock ran from his skin straight through to my fingers as I tried to lift his thigh.

  “I’m ticklish, be careful,” he teased, but his eyes gave away his true feelings. They were heated, and I could tell the small touch was way more than insignificant.

  He picked up his leg, allowing me to snatch back my list and shove it in my backpack. I was so focused on this task, the paper might as well have contained the key to world peace.

  Tiberius slipped his hand under my chin, stilling my awkward movements and bringing my eyes into line with his. His head was cocked to the side, and his expression hesitant. It was then that I noticed he was still in his practice clothes from this morning. He didn’t smell all that bad, but he also wasn’t freshly showered.

  Wondering if his practice had run late, or if maybe something had happened, I asked, “You okay?”

  “Me? You asking me if I’m okay?”

  Our knees knocked under the table as he turned to face me fully, staring me down harder. It wasn’t a mean or harsh stare, but curious, as if he was trying to decide if I was being sincere or not.

  Confused, I had absolutely no clue what was going on. “Yeah, why are you still in those clothes? The ones from this morning?” I motioned toward his still-damp Hafton T-shirt.

  “I was at practice, and Coach kept us late ’bout some scrimmage coming up. Then I came looking for you,” he said, whispering the last part as if it were a closely guarded secret.

  “Why?” I whispered back, and I may have leaned in, trying to catch a whiff of him in all his manly glory. God, I was definitely turning into one of those groupies who went gaga for male athletes.

  His brow furrowed. “Why? Seriously?”

  I nodded.

  He placed his elbow on the table and leaned close. “Because the team acted like a buncha asses, and I . . . Well, I was an even bigger ass because I didn’t stop it, that’s why. I’ve been chasing you around since the first night I held the door open for you, and the second I get around you in a group of brothers, I acted like a high-school fuckup.” He stumbled over his words, his accent more pronounced with his heightened emotions.

  Stunned, I shook my head. “I just wasn’t prepared for all that banter. That’s it. And I was so stupid to go running down there in the first place,” I said, swirling my finger on my bare leg.

  “You can run wherever you want, Rex. Especially to check on me.” He placed his hand over mine, forcing my finger to a halt.

  I slid my hand away, although it felt at home in his large mitt. Even my fingernails tingled to get back in his grasp. Placing my hands up on the table to keep them occupied, I said, “I made my bed, Tiberius. I deserve any shit flung at me. From them, or you, or anyone else. I get that. And I told you, I’m not the girl to start up with.”

  “I think that’s up to me whether you’re the girl or not,” he said pointedly, “and no one deserves having shit flung at them.”

  The only thing I could do was nod. It was the most validating statement anyone had ever made to me. I realized right there and then that Tiberius was truly the first person to see me as a whole person. Not as my parents’ daughter, and not as the girl who fucked her professor, even though I tried desperately to drive that point home.

  Tiberius brought his free hand up to my cheek and brushed a loose piece of hair behind my ear. I was so mesmerized by the blond strands of my hair sifting through his hand, I didn’t want the ends of my hair to end and break contact with him. With my hair tucked securely behind my ear, the moment ended, and he interrupted my strange fantasy.

  “You know what? If you’re gonna ditch study hour, we should do it together. Go out and eat, or some shit like that,” he said with a wink. “What do you think? Should we blow off studying for one night?”

  I laughed. “I can’t believe you just asked me that. You’re crazy, you know that? I was sitting here making lists and figuring out ways to avoid you, and here you are asking me out to eat.”

  “You’re only looking for an easy way out because I make you feel something, T. I can’t believe I got to spell this out, but I like you. You got this spunk that you bury deep inside you, but when you think no one is looking, it shines. I want to know more about you and your funky side.”

  When I raised an eyebrow at the word funky, he said, “Stop doing that, acting like a ho because you think I won’t like you. I already told you . . . the past is the past. So, whattaya say? Wanna go eat? You can tell me what you wanna do with the econ class you’re always studying for.”

  “Ha! Well, that econ class has nothing to do with what I want to do, which is to graduate. Which is also why I can’t go eat. I have to behave, keep myself in line, and show my face at study hour. There’s no room for me to make any mistakes this year. I’ve only got one more chance with the coach.”

  “So, what’re you waiting for? Let’s go to study,” he said, and slid out of the booth.

  I stood and hiked my backpack high on my shoulder. “Well, I guess I’ll be a good girl and go to study hall now. Since we got this out of the way and all.”

  Tiberius grabbed my shoulder, his grip digging into my bony frame. “We didn’t get shit outta the way. I wasn’t raised to be crass. We didn’t have much, but my momma taught me to be a gentleman. Maybe you don’t want me to be like that, but I’m a decent friend and an even better guy. The dudes on my team, I gotta get along and have fun with them, but their job is to haze my ass. And that’s what they were doing; they just don’t gotta take it out on you. And it’s my job to make sure of that.”

  Dipping my shoulder, I escaped his grasp. “Come on, tough guy, we’re gonna be late.”

  “You don’t need to make everything into a joke, Tingly,” he said, urging me toward the exit.

  Raising my arms up by my ears, I flexed my biceps and said, “But I’m a tough one.”

  He let out a little snort. “I’m not buying it, T. You may like to act all tough, but inside that sleek runner’s body of yours is a cream puff of a heart. I saw it the very first time I laid eyes on you,” he said as we walked through the exit.

  It was a good thing he wasn’t looking at me because he would have seen the tears pooling i
n my eyes. I didn’t respond or say anything to even acknowledge his sentiment; I couldn’t. I sniffed once or twice when we walked outside, pretending to take a few gulps of fresh air, but I was really holding back the flood ready to pour from my eyes.

  We walked in silence toward Henderson. Halfway there, I realized Tiberius didn’t have his books. Going back over everything he’d said—he’d rushed to get to me, his little sort-of date offer, his need to protect my cream-puff heart—all of it only made me more ashamed for acting like such a bitch.

  Pushing my pace up to double-time, I tried to keep up with his huge stride. I was trying to think of something to say to make it up to him, but I hadn’t a clue.

  He threw open the door, its clang echoing throughout the empty corridor. When it slammed closed behind us, the silence was even more deafening. And that was how we stood while we waited for the elevator, how we sat in our seats in the classroom, and how we left the room and made our way to the lobby. Silent, except for the freshman female tennis players giggling and gossiping behind us as we headed out of the building.

  The hallway smelled like bleach, and I wished the janitors had washed my brain with it instead of the floor. I wanted to forget the last two years. Even more, I needed to erase the last hour with Tiberius. My heart was whispering a silent prayer for him to ask me out again, begging with my brain and my mouth to suggest it myself, but my conscience was winning. I remained silent.

  As we pushed open the door, a massive cloud broke outside, releasing huge droplets from the sky. “Shit!” I mumbled under my breath. I hung back inside the building, dreading going outside and turning into a living, breathing wet T-shirt contest.

  I hadn’t realized Tiberius was still inside with me until I caught him whipping off his T-shirt, revealing his very broad chest. He was quite a specimen with smooth skin pulled tight over rippling muscles. A small tattoo sat over his heart. From afar, it looked like a pair of initials and an insignia, but I didn’t have time to explore it.

  Tiberius stepped in front of me, pulled his shirt over my head, covering my white tank, then grabbed my hand and pulled me out the door. “Let’s make a run for it,” he yelled over the pouring rain, grabbing my bag and tossing it over his bare shoulder before he dragged me toward the campus bus stop, the last hour forgotten.