In the Wake of Wanting (25 page)

“Just don’t go anywhere with him,” she says.

“I won’t. Text me when you’re done with the interview. I’ll meet up with you for lunch, if you have time, and we can talk about it.”

“Okay.”

Inside our workroom, Asher sits in the back, his menacing stare affixed on me as soon as I walk in the door. I place my things on my table before letting my advisor know that Coley will be missing class for an interview. She submitted her first article for the week last night to our editor inbox, so she’s up-to-date on her assignments.

“What are you working on today?” she asks.

“A special assignment for Pree,” I tell her, even though Pryana never asked for Coley and me to chase down these leads or to help her positively identify her attacker. “Coley and I are actually working on a story together. An investigative piece.”

“I look forward to seeing what you two do together. Do you need me or Asher to take a look at anything today?”

“I’m good,” I tell her.

“I’m happy to help,” he says, walking toward us. “What are you working on?”

“Something Pree asked me to keep to myself for now,” I tell him. “We’ll get you involved when you need to be. Don’t worry.”

He looks at me skeptically. “Nothing goes into this paper without my knowledge.”

“No, sir,” I say, challenging him with my tone. My stance. My gaze.

“Everything okay here?” Professor Aslon asks.

“Gets better every day,” I tell her.

“Happy to hear that, Trey. I need a status update from you,” he says to me. “Before class is over, I need an outline or rough draft of whatever you’re working on.” As the editor-in-chief, he’s been given the authority to request this from us, particularly if he’s lacking articles for the next edition.

I look back to my professor.

“He’s in charge,” she says.

I nod and shrug my shoulders. “Fine.” Fortunately, he can only suggest grades to Aslon; she’s ultimately responsible. Whatever I turn in won’t matter too much. “I’ll send what I have, provided you give me your word you’ll share it with her.”

“Sure,” he says, not thinking twice about it.

“I’ll just send her a copy after I upload it to the inbox, then.”

“I should read it first,” he says, having second thoughts.

“No, that’s not what you said.”

“She doesn’t read anything without it being edited first,” he rattles off her rule.

“That’s true, Trey,” she confirms.

Keeping my cool, I return to my desk and pull out my laptop, open up a Word document and start typing.

Formalities Aside

Late last Saturday night, while love did the expected on Valentine’s Day and brought many couples together, it was decidedly absent from whatever went on in a small apartment on West 116th Street. It was supposed to be a date between friends. A time when two people with similar interests but vastly different paths in life would experience a fun, yet casual, time together outside of their typical environment. It turned out to be a markedly forgettable night.

Forgettable
for at least
one
of them.

Note to Asher:
Help me out here. I don’t understand why the two of you went to The Wit offices. And why did you lie to me and tell me you called a car to take her home? I saw you both get out of a car and go into the building.

Also, correct me if I’m wrong, but aren’t you the only one of us with after-hours access? Something I just thought of and probably should have mentioned.

I’d considered adding a line about
why
it was forgettable for the woman on this date, but I don’t want to give away what I know.

That’s enough to whet his appetite.

After connecting to the school’s Wi-Fi, I upload it to his inbox and immediately walk to the back of the class where he sits to await his comments.

His face falls in awareness as he reads. When I see his fists clench, I prepare for the worst.

“Mother fucker!” He comes at me quickly, and with a ten-foot lead, packs a lot of force into the assault attempt, but I feel like I’ve just been through this–which I have, with Joel–and take him quickly by the shoulders, spin around, and pin him up against the wall. He’s never been much of an athlete, and my height is a strength here, too. “I don’t know what the fuck you think you know!”

“What is going on?” Professor Aslon shouts as he struggles to fight me. I have no interest in that. I simply stare at him, admittedly gloating at him. “What in the world?”

“He asked to see my draft. I guess he didn’t like it,” I say, only letting go of him when other guys from the paper have surrounded us and I feel like they’d help defend me if he lunged.

“Asher, my God,” she says. “I’ve never seen you act like that.”

His eyes are wild–with fear. He looks genuinely scared.

“He can’t turn that shit in. Tell him he can’t turn that shit in!” he yells at her.

“I don’t even know what it is, Asher,” she explains.

“It’s crap. It’s lies. It’ll get him sued. It’ll get the paper sued. The school,” he says, threatening. “He’s got no proof.” He’s broken out into a sweat, and although my heart is racing, I feel a sense of calm.

“The story isn’t finished,” I explain, “but I’ve got evidence...”

“Obviously not enough, if I’m still here,” he says smugly.

“I want to be thorough, and I want to make sure it sticks.”

“Trey, what are you working on?”

“It’s libel. We won’t print it, Trey,” Asher vows.

“If you’re not here to make that call, then the decision falls onto… whom? Pryana?”

“I’ll be here. Can’t say the same for
you
, you dick.”

“Are you threatening me?”

“No different than what you’re doing to me,” he says.

“It’s
very
different, Asher. Where are you suggesting I’ll be, huh?”

He pushes past me and sits back down at his desk, typing quickly at his keyboard. “Story’s trash, Trey. It’s bullshit. You know what? They’re remodeling the women’s bathroom in the library. No one’s taken that story. I need you on it.”

“Asher?” Professor Aslon says. “No. Trey? Get your things. We’re taking a walk.”

“To where?” Asher asks.

“It’s not your concern,” she tells him. “Just get back to work.”

She takes me downstairs and to her office. “I don’t want to see you here the rest of the week,” she says.

“Why not?”

“I don’t know what happened to Pree… but two NYPD cops came and interviewed me yesterday and asked if there was a way to see if anyone had come into the offices over the weekend. I don’t know why they decided to come here, but Asher badged in, and the motion-activated camera in the design lab recorded them together.

“They told me not to ask him about it.”

“Well,
I
asked him about it. I saw them going into the building after our formal. He denies he was here. In fact,
someone
suggested to the police that
I
may have followed her here.”

“You don’t have to tell me anything, but is she okay?”

“From what Coley says, she’s still very traumatized by it all. I’m sure she won’t be back in this class as long as he’s here.”

“What do you have, aside from your word against his?”

“Well,
you
have hard evidence,” I tell her. “Coley and I have located two other girls who he’s raped. I actually walked up on one happening–the girl said she was okay at the time, but she admitted the other night that she was telling him no.”

“Trey, we can’t run a story like this.”

“The hell we can’t!”

“He’s right. We’ll be sued. It will still be his word against theirs.”

“But we’ll have enough evidence to make sure his word is no good, Professor Aslon. And if he files a lawsuit… I don’t care. I’ll pay for the lawyer for
The Wit
myself. I won’t let him get away with this. Not at this school, not in this city… not anywhere that he can do this to another human being.

“If
The Wit
doesn’t want this, it’ll be newsworthy enough that the
Times
or
Post
will want it. It’s Asher Knoxland. I would just rather it stay with Columbia because I have a feeling there are other women who haven’t come forward.”

“It’s so risky. Maybe even irresponsible.”

“Coley and I are covering our bases. It’s
worth
it,” I tell her, “as a warning to every other woman on this campus. Don’t you think? How do you feel, knowing he’s out there every night? What if you had a daughter on this campus? It scares the hell out of me to know Coley’s out walking alone… and he has his eyes on her. He has since the first day of the semester.”

I wonder if I just admitted a little too much about my feelings for Coley.

“I mean, she’s just one of many women I worry about.
All
of my female friends,” I add, feeling my phone vibrate in my pocket. It says it’s a text from Lucy. “Just a second. This could be related.”

- -
How does Asher know I was at your apartment?

- What do you mean?

An image comes through: a screen shot of a text message sent to her from Asher. He’s asked her why she was at my place on Monday.

- When did you get that?

- - Just now.

- Did you respond?

- - No.

- Don’t. I didn’t tell him anything, Lucy. I haven’t told anyone you were there. Not the police. Not anyone. I know Coley wouldn’t, either.

- - Then how does he know?

- I don’t know.

- - Why hasn’t he been arrested?

- They don’t have enough evidence to charge him yet. Coley and I are doing everything we can to help.

- - I’m scared, Trey.

- It’s not too late to go to the police, Lucy. It’s never too late to report it. It could be just what they need to solidify a case against him.

- - If it came down to it, would you testify about what you saw?

- Absolutely, I would. Lucy, so far, you’re the only victim who knows for a fact that it was him. Unless the police find physical evidence, they’re basing everything on conjecture.

- - Okay.

- I can’t tell you what to do. Whatever you decide, though, promise me you’ll be on guard. Take a friend with you when you can.

- - I will.

“That was one of the other victims we’ve found,” I tell my professor. “Somehow Asher found out she was at my apartment on Monday night. That’s where we interviewed her.”

“Wasn’t there press in your building on Monday?”

“Earlier in the day. They were gone by the time she got there.”

“Maybe someone lingered,” she suggests. “Maybe there’s a picture of her there.” That really could be the only explanation. I nod my head, agreeing, even though that only puts her at my building and not in my apartment. “Don’t involve Pryana in this story, Trey. I don’t want any other students involved. I’ll be advising on this one. You and Coley be as thorough as possible. I want an airtight article.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“I want you both to check in with me twice a day. I hope this wraps up quickly, but if it doesn't, don’t come back to class until it does. We’ll just say you’re on special assignment.”

“Okay. Thank you.”

“And if anyone asks, I suspect you and Coley have an inappropriate relationship that is interfering with your work, and that’s what we talked about today.”

My face turns red. “Do you really think that?”

“I think you two work really well together,” she says.

“We’re just friends.”

“There’s more to it, isn’t there?”

“There can’t be right now.”

She smiles. “Go get to work. I expect an update tonight.”

“You’ll have one from both of us.”

I head over to Ruvelyn’s Café, working on an astronomy assignment with a cup of coffee until I get a message from Coley. She agrees to meet me here, and we grab a cab to Pisticci.

“Mr. Holland,” the hostess greets me warmly. “Party of two?”

“Yes, and if you have a table that’s more private than others, that would be ideal.”