“Yeah, I’m all set to go; besides, the solitaire queen said they are closing for the weekend.

“Okay,” he says, leaning over the water fountain. He then continues down the hallway, past security and to the car.

“Do you want me to drive back?” I offer. He still looks so bad; I want him to be able to rest if he needs to, and it’s a long drive back.

“That would be great.” He hands me the keys and climbs into the passenger seat.

We drive the entire way home in silence, and it feels horrible. I let the events of the day replay in my head, trying to figure out what would have suddenly made him ill, and I draw a blank. He was fine all day, until he saw the case…until it dawned on him that my dad’s killer will someday be on the streets, and if we’re still together, it would be his problem, as well as mine. I understand that the situation is a lot to take in, and he said he was ready for it and would be there for me, but this feels like rejection. By the time we make it back to the University, I’ve counted seven words that Brooks has said to me, which only feeds into my mounting anxiety.

We’re both already packed for the holiday weekend, so neither of us needs to go back up to the dorms. The plan was to say goodbye in the parking lot, and we would each make the drive to our homes. I’m expecting at least a small, memorable goodbye. But as soon as I park, I know it’s not coming.

“I have to go back in for some things. I guess I’ll see you when you get back,” he says when I hand him his keys. He then steps out of the car and takes off in the direction of our dorm–no ‘I love you’, no ‘drive careful’, no hug, and no kiss. Nothing. I hold my emotions in until I reach my car. I slide into the driver’s seat, turn on the ignition, and let my tears of rejection pour down.

Vivian

“Are you and Brooks coming to the concert tonight?” Cam asks on our way back from our final class for the day. After Thanksgiving, she started working with another band, and their first performance is supposed to be tonight. We are all planning on going. Well, almost all of us.

“I plan on going, but Brooks said he needs to finish his paper for Vauldin tonight. Finals are next week, and I’m not even sure if he’s started on it.” Campbell glowers at my answer. He has been MIA for most of our group outings. He has been distant and weird, but he refuses to say that anything is wrong.

“What in the hell is going on with him? He’s been different since we got back from Thanksgiving. Are you guys fighting or something?” Apparently I’m not the only one that has noticed the change in him.

My throat constricts, and I feel the tears building. I try to suppress it all, cramming my emotions back down and swallowing down the lump, but when Campbell puts her arm around me, the tears begin to fall. “It’s because of my dad,” I choke out. “He went with me to look at the case file, and it freaked him out. He pretended to get sick while we were there and took off. Then over break, I never once heard from him. I called once to check on him, and he never called back. Now, since we got back, it feels like he’s just going through the motions. It’s like he’s just waiting for me to get pissed and break it off with him so he doesn’t have to be the bad guy.”

“Oh, Viv. I don’t understand this any more than you do. Before the break, the only time I can think of when he was off was when he was late for lunch. You know, the day of the Amber fight? Do you think maybe he’s doing drugs or something? I mean, his behavior is completely one-eighty.”

“What?” I shout. “No, I don’t think he would ever do that. I really think it is because of my past. It makes me feel like such shit, Cam. I mean, he told me he loved me that morning, and by that afternoon, I was old news, a pity case that wasn’t worth his time.” I wipe my renegade tears as my anger begins to take over. We approach the front door to the dorms, and I don’t want anyone to see me crying. I try to wipe the running make-up from under my eyes while Campbell holds the doors open for me. I look at her to give the mascara approval. She tilts her head and waves me on, which tells me we need to hurry to our room; I look like questionable shit.

“I don’t know what his motives are, or what’s he’s expecting from you,” she adds, pushing the elevator button. “But you can’t keep doing whatever this is. You need to talk to him, and if he can’t give you the answers you need, well, then maybe it’s time that you take a break from each other. We leave for Christmas vacation next week. You cannot spend an entire month worried about this shit; you would just torture yourself.”

The doors open and we both step onboard. Cam pushes the button for our floor while I step to the left and lean against the side wall. “You’re right; I’ll try and talk to him tonight when I get back from the concert.”

The door opens and Brooks is standing there, waiting to ride it down. When he sees me and my mess of a face, his eyes widen and he immediately steps towards me. “What happened? What’s wrong, Viv?”

I move out of the elevator towards Brooks, but my eyes don’t meet his; instead, I look to Cam for support. She waves me on and heads towards our room, but I have no intention of having this conversation in the hallway, or right now for that matter. “I don’t know what’s going on with you, Brooks, but I’d really like to talk about it. Now is not a good time; I realize that you’re headed somewhere, and I’m upset and a mess. But tonight, after the concert, I plan to come over so we can talk. All right?”

“Okay,” he sighs as he steps around me to hit the button for the elevator that has since left him. “No matter how this conversation goes, though; I need you to know I never lied when I said I love you. I need you to believe that, Red.” The tears invade my eyes again, and my ability to speak is constrained, so I nod. “I’ll see you later then.” He walks onto the elevator and leaves me standing alone and confused once again.

I dressed up for the concert, thinking it would be a nice touch for opening night. Jen forced me to wear stilettos, which sucked big hairy balls at a punk rock concert. I spent the entire time thinking about what I was going to say to Brooks when I went over to his room. But now, as I ride the elevator up to our room, the time has come for our big talk and I still have no idea what I’m going to say. I follow everyone into our room, Will included, drop off my purse, and head next door. I don’t bother changing, or even taking off the death shoes; I want to get next door and figure out whatever the hell is going on.

Other than that first night, I’ve never considered knocking, but with how things have been the last few weeks, I feel compelled to be invited in, as opposed to just walking into his dorm. I reach my fist up to tap on the door, but before my knuckles can hit the wood, it swings open. Shock spreads across my face. When I see the figure standing before me, I take what might be the hardest breath I’ve ever had to take. I was expecting to see Brooks, open arms or not; that’s who was supposed to be behind that door. Instead, a tousled version of Amber, with smeared make-up and tangled hair is there, with a smug expression that only Jen could wipe off.

“Oh, hello. Veronica, is it?” she says, straightening her shirt. “I think you might be a little early.”

I try to make my mouth move to correct her, to yell at her, anything, but I just stand there like a victim of the situation. No matter how hard I try, I can’t get sound past my lips.

She giggles at me. “He’s in the shower right now, but don’t worry, I’m sure he can see you soon. But I can’t imagine why; he got more than he could handle this evening,” she adds. I am in complete disbelief at what I’m hearing, what I’m witnessing. When I still say nothing, she huffs and tries to move around me. Just before she gets past me, she leans in close and whispers, “You had to know revenge was coming; trash like you never wins.”