“Safie.”
She turned. Blinked once, and then again. “I see you’ve come out of hiding.”
I was shaking all over, trying to contain it. “I needed a break from this place,” I said.
She lifted her eyebrows, two perfect lines—how had I let that face out of my life? “Don’t we all.” Next to her, on a bulletin board: Addison’s poster. I looked away, but not before she caught me. “Do you know him?”
I shook my head. “No. You?”
“No. His parents must be really important, even for Sawyer. They’ve practically enlisted the Air Force.”
And then, because I didn’t know what else to say, I asked if she was done with the copier. She looked surprised by the question, which made sense. Not because it was surprising that I was thereto make copies but because it was a stupid and thoughtless thing to say.
“Sure.” She grabbed her papers from the machine. They had gotten shuffled on their way out. It was a messy stack and she was trying to be quick about it, but it only made it messier.
“I heard from Stephen,” I said. “Something about a bias investigation?”
She looked up from the papers and her face said something likeWe should have stuck to photocopies. “It’s a nightmare.”
“Well, I mean they can’t really do anything can they? I mean, not really—”
“I don’t want to talk about it. I just want it to be over. I want this year over and Kennedy out of my life.”
“Kennedy?”
“Do you know her?”
“Safie, listen.” I said, then stumbled. “Safie, I’m really sorry. I wanted to call. I didn’t know—”
She sliced her palm flat through the air, cleaving the space between us.
“Let’s not do this.” She slid past me, to the door. “Take care of yourself.”
I stood still in the empty room. The overhead light shut off and there in the dark, for the first time in these weeks, for the first time in years—how many, I don’t know—I cried, a great torrent pouring from me, my body a cracked shell that could no longer contain the raft of my despair.
I went right to my car. I would email the class when I got home, cancel it. And then a buzzing ring. I jumped at the sudden noise. Tyler. I answered.
“I got called back to the dean’s office. The police were there.”
It was starting.
“Are you alright?”
“I think so. Can I come over?”
This will all be okay. This will all be okay.
“Yes. Come.”
Tyler said I was making him nervous, pacing around. I sat.
“Okay. Go on.”
“There were two cops there, and the dean. And this time, instead of the res life person, someone they said was a lawyer. She just sat there. She didn’t say anything.”
“They’re trying to protect themselves, so they don’t get sued. What happened next?”
“At first the dean just asked me to go back over what we talked about. And then the cops asked questions. Well, just one. One just sat there. The other one, his name was Detective Laurence I think. He gave me his card, I can check. He asked all the questions.”
