English: He’s out there shagging his way through the one half of campus he hasn’t had yet.

So yeah, Rizzo. I’ve taken to calling him that again, even in my head. It helps me be less of a mess

about it all. At least that’s what I tell myself. I know that I’ve screwed this one up for good, and I guess

that’s just what I’d meant to do. To break this beyond repair. To cancel out any possibility of anything

ever happening between us again. What can I say, apparently I succeeded. When you tell someone that

you’re through, you can’t expect them to not take that personal. Even more so when you treat them like

thin air afterwards, which yes, I have done, and yes, it was necessary. If I hadn’t, I would never have

been able to go through with this.

I wonder how many times Rizzo has even been dumped before, if ever. And just when he’d started

to open up, which is wow, probably as un-Rizzo as it gets, I do this shit to him. Why? Because my exboyfriend

was so hung up on him that I couldn’t bear the thought of breaking his heart like that. I don’t

even know how Casey feels about Rizzo now, since he seems to stay as far out of his way as I do. This

is exactly why one should never try to do a noble thing. ‘Cause now I’m both Casey-less and Rizzoless.

Go figure.

* * *

“That is so sad”, Rhea says as we leave the building after Medieval European Literature class. She

blows strands of dark hair out of her eyes, and looks at me like she wants to wrap me in a blanket and

make me soup. “I can’t believe you’ve never seen ‘The Princess Bride’!”

“I know”, is my sarcastic reply. “I feel seriously deprived.”

“Oh, Foley, but you totally are, I swear.” She shifts her books and moves to put her free arm around

me, and I completely fail at slipping away in time.

“She’s right, you know”, Anna chimes in on my other side, and forcefully takes my arm. Her

Mohawk has turned a dark shade of purple during the holidays, and compared to the previous pink, it

makes her look slightly less aggressive. Very slightly, though. I feel like I’m being dragged off to

prison.

Rhea tilts her head to the side as she looks at me. “We must change that.”

“Tonight”, Anna decides, and they beam at each other. We pass a window and I notice that it’s

snowing again. But the flakes are tiny, at the harsh wind’s mercy that twirls and spins them in the air.

I shake my head sadly. “Tonight? Too bad. I’m busy.”

“You’re not. You left your personal organizer open at lunch.”

“Geez, you ever heard of that thing called ‘privacy’?”

They both grin. “Nope.”

I roll my eyes. “What did I ever do to deserve this?”

Anna seems delighted at the opportunity to explain. “You’ve been a very naughty boy. Not quite as

naughty as one would hope, but you get extra points for the effort.”

“This is hell, right? I’ve died and gone straight to the Ninth Circle.”

Rhea gives me a sweet smile. “Aww. Come on, Foley, it’ll be fun. I promise.”

I eye her warily. “You said that before, and then you made me watch ‘Tipping the Velvet’.”

But they just laugh and ignore all my efforts to slip out of their affectionate grip as we make our way

towards the library. God, I am so doomed.

* * *

I turn up the collar on my coat and shiver as I step outside into the darkness. I’m on my way over to

Rhea’s dorm, because if I don’t come freely, the dykes will turn up on my doorstep to get me. It might

involve kicking and shouting, and I’d rather avoid that, thank you very much.

The snow that fell this afternoon has already turned into slush that makes smacking noises under my

brisk steps. It isn’t far to Kennedy House, so chances of me not freezing to death on my way there are

reasonably high. At least until I stop dead in my tracks and stare in shock.

I’ve spotted Rizzo a small distance ahead. I can just make him out at the edge of the shadow of a

building, but I’d recognize his tall, slender figure anywhere. That in itself is no cause for alarm, but he’s

talking to that scumbag of a dealer who always hangs around campus. I don’t even know what to think

for a moment, but my mind is racing, and my stomach feels like a tightening knot. Please tell me he’s

not buying. Please. Because if he is, I don’t care what I did and what he thinks of me, swear to god I’m

gonna stop him, by force if I have to.

But it looks like they’re just talking. No, arguing. And I’ll be damned - Rizzo looks pissed off. I’ve

never seen him like that. What the hell? He doesn’t raise his voice - doesn’t have to - but there’s

something so sharp about his tone that it worries me. Whatever is going on over there, it’s not just

something minor. It’s something that must really matter to him. I can’t help it, I need to know what’s

going on, so I carefully move closer, leaving the safe shadows of the trees lining the path.

Scumbag seems to be trying to talk his way out of something, to calm Rizzo down, but it has the

opposite effect. I’m not yet close enough to quite make out what they’re saying, but Rizzo’s voice is a

subzero threat that makes me shudder, and I’m not even the one he’s talking to.

Whatever Scumbag replies, it’s exactly the wrong thing. What comes next is so fast and unexpected

that it gives me a start; Rizzo punches the guy in the face, knocks him down with what seems like very

little effort.

Blood is dripping from the dealer’s nose, leaving a red trail on his face, and now I can hear what

Rizzo is saying. Very slowly, calmly, and as icy as the North wind.

“You’re going to stay away from him.”

Scumbag stares up at him for a moment, wiping his nose with the back of his hand. Then he nods,

looking defeated, and might I add, pretty pathetic, too.

I manage to slip back into the line of trees just in time before Rizzo turns around and steps onto the

smaller path that leads right past where I’m hiding. My treacherous heartbeat is trying to give me away

as he approaches. I can literally see him relaxing as he’s passing through the mild light of a lamppost.

The anger just rolls off of his handsome face. It’s replaced by something that I know will haunt me for

the rest of the night: a small frown and a fleeting sadness. He puts his hands in the pockets of his suede

jacket as he saunters past me. I follow him with my eyes, everything inside of me just aching. Aching to

talk to him, to find out what just happened here. To find out what’s wrong, because so much seems to

be. Because this isn’t the Rizzo I know, the Rizzo everyone knows. This is Danny. And it just hits me

how much I really miss him. And I want to tell him so badly.

What I do instead is wait until he’s gone. Then I step back onto the path, my shoes soaking wet, my

face freezing. And I continue on my way to watch some stupid fairytale movie that according to two

crazy dykes is supposed to cheer me up forever. Well, good luck with that.

Chapter 5

Phoenix

NICK: Saturday afternoon means weekend visiting hours, and I’m actually in the main area, waiting

again. I never thought I’d be one of the patients that waits for people to show up, but it’s what I’ve

become. Rizzo’s still the only one that comes to see me in this hellhole, and he doesn’t visit all the time,

but he’s been here enough now for it to be a regular thing.

We’ve been talking about stuff more, and last time he visited, he mentioned the play, and how

rehearsals are going to start up again soon. I was surprised that it took him so long to say something

about it, but I guess I’m learning that he does have the ability to be tactful when he wants. Him