“Brooklyn?” Jay called out.
“I’m in here,” I yelled staring at the mostly blank page of my last assignment. I glanced up when he appeared in the doorway. “I’ve been doing homework all afternoon.” He didn’t say anything, so I looked back up at him. “Everything okay?”
He looked so serious as he folded his arms across his chest. “Uh…” His lips formed a tight line. “Do you have a minute?”
I stared at him for a few seconds. Worry filled the pit of my stomach. “Yeah…”
“I’ve been wanting to tell you about something I saw yesterday.” He stopped speaking and he frowned. He seemed to be thinking about his next words, but the silence became more daunting.
“What?”
“There was an email that went out to everyone on campus,” he started slowly.
I exhaled, understanding immediately why he was reluctant. “About Carter?”
“You opened it already?”
I nodded. “I can’t believe someone would take a picture of her like that.”
“Yeah, that was fucked up.” Holding my gaze, he moved into the room. “But did you read the whole thing? The part about the dance team convert?”
I sat back in the chair. “Yeah,” I said quietly.
“That means one of the cheerleaders put that out there.”
“Or one of them wrote it.”
His jaw clenched. “So, what are we going to do about it?”
“I don’t know.” I shook my head slowly. “I don’t know.”
“If they are already putting bullshit out here that makes you look like you had something to do with it, what else are they saying? Who else are they telling that story to?”
“I’ve been trying not to think about that.”
“You have practice tonight?”
“No. Coach cancelled practice this week. She said since the next two games are away games, this would be a time of bereavement.” I bit down on my bottom lip. “She said we’d have a meeting soon.”
“Have you told her what happened?”
I shook my head. “I’m going to try to see her tomorrow after class.”
Jay sighed. “Okay, cool. We can’t just sit back and wait for your boy to verify your story.”
“I know,” I agreed softly.
Jay assessed me, a gravely serious look on his face. “We have to do something now. This is serious.”
“I have my creative writing class tomorrow. I’m going to see if Aiden talked to the police yet and then I’m going to meet with Coach Ainsley.”
“Okay.” With a forced smile, he left the room.
Ordinarily I would’ve called him out on his fake smile and his worried expression, but I didn’t bother. He was probably just mimicking the look that was on my face.
With a deep breath, I stared at the blank page. I had to write a character sketch that used the seven characterization techniques of fiction. I didn’t know what story I wanted to tell so I didn’t have a character in mind. I wanted to write something different than I’d presented before. But with everything going on, I felt creatively stuck.
“Are you hungry?” Jay asked an hour later.
“Yeah, a little. I wanted to finish this before giving myself a break though,” I responded distractedly.
“What are you working on? A story?”
I stared at the screen where I had written and deleted five different ideas that felt inauthentic. “A story about a whole lot of nothing,” I grumbled.
“Well I’m going to eat that leftover pizza. You write your story.”
My eyes jerked up to him. “What did you say?”
His eyebrows crumbled in confusion. “I’m getting pizza. You write your story.”
An idea started formulating in my head. “My story,” I said slowly. “My story.”
He looked at me as if I’d lost my mind. “Okay…” He made a yikes face and left the room.
I spent the next ninety minutes doing a thorough character sketch and story outline. I used myself as the inspiration for the character. Fueled by a lack of sleep and anger, I outlined a story about a woman was set up for a crime she didn’t commit. When I completed my work, I felt like a weight had been lifted from my shoulders.
I padded my way to the kitchen to make a sandwich and found Jay sleeping on the couch. He had long legs and his feet dangled over the edge. I was as quiet as possible as I made and then ate my peanut butter and jelly sandwich.
“James Williams,” I sang softly as I shook him awake.
His response was groggy. “Hm?”
“Get in the bed.”
He didn’t move.
I shrugged and went to prepare for bed myself. After a shower and brushing my teeth, I changed into a pair of shorts and a tank top. I hadn’t slept on the futon since I’d moved in because of the physical and emotional pain. But since my body was almost healed, I figured I should start.
“What are you doing?” Jay’s voice cut through the silence like a knife.
I yelped. “Why do you keep sneaking up on me?”
“I’m not.” He rubbed his eyes. “I just got up. You need your ears checked. What are you doing?”
I gestured to where I’d struggled to get the futon to fully extend. “Getting ready for bed.”
He shook his head. “Just get in the bed. If you want a chance at a good night’s sleep, you’re not going to get it on that thing.”
He was right about that.
“I don’t want to overstay my welcome and cramp your style…” I was already moving in his direction.
“Too late. Now get your ass in the bed.”
Smiling, I followed him down the hall.
…
