Contradictions (7 page)

Somewhere between the music being turned up and drinks being consumed, the vibe of the party subtly changed. Derek and I both sensed it at the same time. Our eyes moved to where a few guys had staggered through the shallow water to retrieve an empty deflated raft that had drifted ashore. Melissa and Steve huddled together with several of the fraternity brothers. Every few seconds they would cast worried looks upriver.

I watched as Steve discreetly found the other pledges that had been out on the water. From a distance, I could see him firing questions at them. Their concern level was rising. Several guys broke off from the group and walked along the shore, following the path the rafters had taken.

Steve turned off the music so he could tell the group what I had already figured out. A hard knot formed in the pit of my stomach. One of the guys wasn’t back yet. Glancing around, I knew without a shadow of a doubt it was the persistent freshman who was missing. Gossip and speculation quickly began to ripple through the crowd. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw several people edging away from the fire toward the dirt lot where everyone had parked their cars. For a split second, I wanted to join them. I wanted no part of this. The carefree party atmosphere now had a feeling of unease. No one wanted to be associated with a possible accident.

Melissa came and found me as I stood at the crossroads of indecision. “Hey, Tressa, did you happen to take a picture of the guys who rode with us to the drop-off point?”

The knot in my stomach tightened to the point of becoming painful. “Sure. Why?”

“Because John can’t remember one of the pledge’s names. Steve is hoping the picture will jog someone’s memory.”

“It’s David,” I mumbled.

“What?”

“His name is David. He told me when we got to the drop-off point.” I didn’t want to believe something had happened to him. What was I saying? All of our panic was going to be for naught. David had probably run across problems and swum to shore. At the moment, he was probably a mile up the shore, freezing his ass off and wishing he had his clothes.

I willed that to be true, more than I had ever wanted anything. I had never been more wrong in my life.

The authorities were called shortly after, and by the time they arrived, the party had completely dispersed. Cameo and Derek were both gone. They’d tried to persuade me to go with them, but I stubbornly refused. I had a strong urge to leave, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was some kind of accessory in all this. Maybe it was because I drove with Melissa and took pictures, but deep down I knew it was because David and I had shared a moment. No matter how brief.

The authorities arrived in stages. First, it was one squad car. The cop was a total asshole. We were reprimanded and threatened with jail time for being at a state park after hours. Once he felt he had scared us, he proceeded to tell us that David probably smartened up and was back in his dorm room where we all should be.

The shit really hit the fan when his dorm room was checked and his roommate claimed he hadn’t seen him since midday. At that point, more officers arrived, along with full rescue units. This time the line of questioning was different. The accusations were stronger. Words like
hazing
and
legal ramifications
were thrown into the mix. Steve and the other fraternity brothers remained stoically silent. Eventually, we were sent home, but were advised to not leave town and that we would be brought in for further questioning.

Melissa drove me home, and neither of us talked. We were both scared shitless.

Cameo and Derek were both waiting for me when I stumbled into the apartment. The events of the evening pulled at me. I wanted nothing more than to curl up in a ball and forget tonight had even happened.

Cameo and Derek didn’t ask if we had found him. They didn’t need to. It was written on my face. Walking past them, I headed to the shower to wash the stench of the party from me. I felt responsible for this. I wanted to believe David was okay, that in the morning all of this would be something we’d laugh about.

•   •   •

By morning we knew. It was on every news channel.

David Pierce’s body had been found. Pierce—his last name was Pierce. Knowing that made it so much harder to hear. David Pierce was dead. Just ten hours ago he was an eager freshman ready to take on the whole world. Now he was dead.

Cameo and Derek went with me when I was called to the police station for more questioning. My phone was seized as evidence. I wasn’t surprised. I had documented the entire ridiculous stunt. That was my thing. I lived and breathed parties and watching these stupid antics. It was what defined me.

My dad showed up at the police station while I was being questioned. He was allowed to join me as my attorney, though he was really a tax lawyer. They assured him I wasn’t being charged with anything. The Sigma Pi fraternity would be the one shouldering the blame for what happened. Hazing was a serious crime.

I was allowed to leave by midmorning. The four of us headed to breakfast, although my stomach felt like it was loaded with bricks.

The mood during the meal was somber. Dad and my friends thought I was worried about being charged.

“I’m not worried about that,” I murmured.

“Then what is it?” Derek asked, dunking a piece of toast in the yellow egg yolk on his plate. “I’m not sure I’ve ever seen you this serious.”

I shrugged my shoulders. I wasn’t sure how to explain how I was feeling. Just because I liked to party and let loose didn’t mean I had a heart of stone.

“It’s going to be okay, pumpkin pie,” Dad said, patting my hand. Cameo and Derek exchanged a look over his term of endearment, but didn’t comment. Now wasn’t the time for jokes.

I nodded even though nothing felt okay. The hazing stunt wasn’t my fault, but did that automatically squash the guilt? To think otherwise was almost laughable. Hazing was done for entertainment. I’d always thrived on the ridiculous stunts. If my friends and I didn’t encourage them so much, would the fraternities feel the endless need to one-up one another?

The questions rolled through my head like a highway pileup. Unable to eat, I pushed my food around my plate. I almost wished Dad would yell at me. Anything to pull me out of my slump. But he didn’t. It wasn’t his way.

The days following David’s death were fraught with one consequence after another. I heard his parents were understandably livid and devastated. They demanded the school make an example of Sigma Pi. Steve and the other senior members were suspended while they were under investigation, but it seemed inevitable that they would be kicked out of school. Sigma Pi’s charter was revoked and the fraternity was dismantled and shut down. The other fraternities on campus also paid a price for Sigma Pi’s mistakes. Campus security scrutinized and checked over each house with a fine-tooth comb. It was as if all of fraternity row was on probation. I found it a bit hypocritical that many of the school’s administration, who were likely fraternity brothers and sorority sisters themselves, acted so shocked that hazing was happening on campus. Like it was something our generation invented.

David’s family decided to hold his memorial service the following Saturday so students would be able to pay their respects. The date loomed ahead of me, providing an eerie feeling of finality. In retrospect, I guess maybe David’s death felt surreal since my life had been relatively untouched by death. Both sets of my grandparents were still alive, along with my uncle on Dad’s side and two aunts on Mom’s side. My great-grandmother died when I was two years old, but that was the only death we’d had in our family. David’s death was like a punch in the gut. It hurt like a bitch and nothing seemed to ease the pain.

I chose to handle my emotional upheaval by hiding out the rest of the weekend following David’s death. Cameo and Derek didn’t even try to hide their confusion over my complete one-eighty in personality. I couldn’t really explain it to them since even I was confused. My entire existence up to this point felt wasted. The thought of partying or all the other shit I used to get off on made me want to hurl.

On Tuesday I was called to a meeting with the president of the university and found out I had not escaped the incident completely unscathed. Ironically, this almost made me happy. I felt this was a cosmic slap I deserved.

I knew before I arrived what the meeting would be about. My time at Maine State College had come to an end. Even if I wasn’t directly involved in the scandal, I was failing all my classes. I received my summons on Monday evening, but didn’t mention it to Cameo or Derek. They would know all the sordid details soon enough.

I decided to walk to the president’s office from my apartment building the next morning, even though it was on the far side of the campus. I wanted to stall. Walking gave me a chance to clear my head. The air was crisp and the clouds were heavy with the promise of our first real snowfall of the year. In the last few days while I’d been holed up in my apartment, fall had staked its full claim on Maine. All the trees were barren and stripped of their leaves. They seemed so lonely without their normal foliage to cover their limbs. I felt an odd sense of kinship with them, like my own leaves had been stripped away, leaving me bare and neglected.

I reached Alumni Hall sooner than I expected. Pushing open the door, I was greeted with an influx of fall smells. I inhaled deeply, feeling oddly comforted by the scent of pumpkin spice.

“Can I help you, my dear?” A short, plump woman with a raspy voice and salt-and-pepper hair sat behind the reception desk. She was the spitting image of my grandma, putting me instantly at ease.

“I have a nine
A.M
. meeting.” My voice didn’t waver, which was surprising. I had worked so hard to get into MSC, and now it was all coming to an end.

“Name?” She waited with her hands hovering over her keyboard.

“Tressa Oliver.”

“Let me tell President Johnson you’re here,” she said kindly as she picked up her phone. “Your nine
A.M.
is here. Yes, sir.” She hung up the phone and smiled. “You can go right in, dear,” she said, waving me toward the office.

Thanking her, I approached the office and opened the door, ready to face the consequences of my actions.

My resolve quickly changed when I stepped into the office and saw a pack of wolves waiting for me. Suddenly, the only instinct I felt was to flee.

President Johnson sat behind a massive mahogany desk that easily rivaled the size of a twin bed. He looked as hard as a statue, but it wasn’t him who made me want to run. Nor was it Professor N, who was sitting in one of the three wing chairs to the side of the desk. Much to my dismay, the individual who made me feel like I wanted to be anywhere but here sat in the chair next to Professor N.

Trent’s electric blue eyes met mine, holding them as I walked cautiously to the only available chair in the room. Would there be no end to my shame in front of him? Averting my eyes from Trent, I faced President Johnson and waited for the verdict.

“Ms. Oliver,” he greeted me as I sat down.

“President Johnson.” I nodded. “Professor N—Trent.” I swallowed as his name stuck in my throat.

“I’m certain it is no surprise why we’re all here today,” President Johnson said gravely, sitting back in his chair, which swayed slightly with his weight. I had never actually seen him in person, and he was a larger man than I had pictured. Judging by what I could see, he was easily more than six feet tall and seemed at least half that size in width. His broad shoulders stretched the tweed material of the suit jacket that he wore over a starched light blue shirt. A sharp-looking red polka-dot bow tie added a whimsical touch to his professional dress.

I forced my attention away from his bow tie, which felt like it was mocking me at the moment, and worked on focusing on his questions. I knew why I was here, and why he was here. Hell, I even knew why Professor N was here. What I didn’t know was why Trent was here. I glared at him, but he was oblivious since his eyes were fixed on the president.

“Eh hmm.” President Johnson cleared his throat, summoning me back to his question.

“Huh? Uh, yes, sir,” I finally answered.

“Your current grades are not up to the standards we expect from our students here at Maine State College.”

I nodded my head but didn’t answer.

“Do you have any information that might shed some light on your current academic status?”

I looked over at Professor N for a brief moment before answering. “I guess I fell behind,” I answered. The lameness of my answer hung in the air. I deserved a smack upside the back of my head.

“You guess?” He sat back in his chair, exchanging a dissatisfied look with Professor N that spoke volumes.

Great. Not only was I a loser, but I had damaged Professor N’s reputation. He had vouched for me and I had let him down. Indecision filled me. When I had been summoned to the office, I knew my stint at MSC was most likely over, but I wondered if I could say anything at all that might change their minds. I’m sure I had no credibility and they would probably laugh in my face. The question was whether staying in school was worth swallowing my pride and allowing Trent to see me at my weakest. I gnawed on my lip for a brief moment. I sensed the ball was in my court if I wanted it. Damn. Pride was a prickly son of a bitch.

My gaze moved to Professor N’s one last time before skating over to Trent, who was still not looking at me.

“I allowed myself to fall behind,” I blurted out. “Some of the classes I’m taking are harder than I thought. I’m completely lost,” I admitted, feeling slightly sick at my candidness. “I was too busy doing other things,” I continued, squeezing the arms of my chair in a death grip. I focused my eyes on the rich wood flooring at my feet. Nothing like puking your pride and shame out in front of three intellectuals who intimidated you.

President Johnson sat forward again, addressing me directly. “You chose not to use the countless resources at your disposal to alleviate this situation?”

I raised my head up to look at him. I could shrug my shoulders in defeat, or I could continue to spill my guts in front of all of them. It all boiled down to how badly I wanted to stay. “I was too embarrassed to ask,” I said, proud that my voice didn’t shake.

“I see,” he replied, rocking back in his chair and looking at Professor N again. “You know, ordinarily in a situation like this, considering your extracurricular activities, we would terminate your enrollment. Here at Maine State College, we stand behind the belief that we should challenge and rise above the activities you have been fraternizing in.”

My gut clenched like I had been sucker punched. “I understand,” I said, making a move to stand up.

“I’m not finished,” he said gravely, stopping me midrise. Sinking back down, I waited for him to continue ripping into me before I was officially released. I guess I was getting what I deserved. My eyes moved again to Trent. I was surprised to see that he was now watching me. The intensity of his stare pulled an unexpected reaction from me. The embarrassment I had been struggling with completely evaporated and was replaced with something that felt like sadness. His stare was intense, but it was hard to fathom what he must be thinking. Not that I should care, but for whatever reason, I wanted to know.

President Johnson cleared his throat again, pulling me free from Trent’s gaze.

“Ms. Oliver, I am trying to make a decision here that will determine whether or not you have a future at this university. Do you think you can provide me the courtesy of at least paying attention?”

“I’m sorry. I’m just embarrassed.”

“The time for excuses is over. We’ve decided to put you on academic probation and allow you until the end of the semester to get your grades back in order. Trent has graciously agreed to help you with your studies. You will accept his help if you hope to remain a student here.”

I wanted to argue. Who did they think they were to tell me what to do? I was an adult. The urge to throw off the restraints they were trying to put on me was strong. I hated feeling trapped. Work with Trent or leave? Neither were appealing options. I glared at Trent. He probably had something to do with this. Blaming him made me feel a bit better. At least I had somewhere to direct my rage.