“—Starts with a ‘D’—”
Matt still didn’t get it.
Molly rolled her eyes. “Hello? Debbie!”
“Debbie? Who works in the Registrar’s Office? She’s not a student!”
“Exactly,” Molly said. “She’s staff. And what group has Colton been targeting lately? Faculty and staff, that’s who. You’d know that if you hadn’t been a lovesick puppy dog lately.”
“I’m not lovesick.”
“Really? I’ve heard the name ‘Adam’ more often in the last couple months than in twenty years offCOC Sunday School and sermons combined! And wipe that silly grin off your face when I say his name! Jeez, Screech, you’ll see him on New Year’s Eve, right? Can you just live in our world until then? You know, the world where Colton just threatened a female friend of yours?”
That got Matt’s attention. “Fine,” he said. “Treat me like a dumb jock and explain it to me again how Colton’s targeting faculty and staff.”
Remember that resolution he pushed through SGA about a month ago?” Molly asked.
Matt shook his head.
“You were at an away game that night, but I told you about it later. I showed you the resolution.”
Matt vaguely remembered something with a lot of whereas clauses followed by a whiny request that the administration ensure that faculty and staff were practicing Christian family values in their personal lives. He hadn’t given it much thought since then.
Molly continued. “Two weeks ago, Colton upped the ante. He was obviously frustrated that the administration hadn’t taken any action on the resolution, so he wrote a letter to the editor ofThe Beakly News. Does that ring a bell?”
Matt shrugged. “I’m sorry, Molls, I don’t read every page of that paper, especially letters to the editor. So, help me out. Please? What did I miss?”
“Did you just call me ‘Molls?’”
Matt braced himself, nodded meekly. “You call me ‘Screech.’”
Molly grunted. “Fine. Okay, back to Colton’s letter to the editor. He argued that the students had done their part by showing themselves eager for the wholesome mentoring promised by the school’s mission statement—not by people living in violation of God’s laws. He went on to write that by not acting, the administration had been ‘weighed in the balance and found wanting.’ Seriously, who writes like that?”
Matt chuckled. “Anything else?”
“He listed a bunch of scriptures to back up his point that real Christians live pure lives or something like that. Don’t expect me to remember the scripture references. I looked up a few of them. It was the usual list: no drunkenness, no premarital sex, no divorce, and, of course, no homosexuality.”
Matt was relieved, frankly. None of those applied to Debbie. Still, he wanted to go check on her. “Anything else?”
“Colton’s feeling cocky,” Molly said. She reached into her camera bag and retrieved a folded copy of theDaily Oklahoman,laid it on the tabletop.
“Section C, page 9.” She pointed to the paper.
Matt thumbed to Section C.
“Brace yourself,” Molly warned.
Matt flipped to the page. Saw Colton Langley’s fraternity-boy mug beaming back at him.
Matt’s mood darkened, curdling his frown into a grimace.
The headline proclaimed: “Senator Picks Intern.”
Senator James Inhoffe had selected Colton for a summer internship. Same Colton who, according to the article, was gaining ground on Mother Teresa in the sainthooddepartment.
So, next May, when Matt would no doubt resume his burger-flipping career in order to help pay his tuition, Colton would be in Washington, D.C., his feet propped up on a desk, his only purpose being to secure Inhoffe’s endorsement of his own future political career.
Matt’s stomach lurched—whether from disgust, hunger, or both, not certain. He wasn’t jealous. It wasn’t that he expected more from a U.S. Senator; he expected more from Karma.
