Stupid Boy

Several questioning what?’s filled the common room, so I continued.

“Morally, it’s just not right,” I urged. “We as Deltas are better than that, aren’t we?”

“Well, what about teaching the Kappas a lesson?” Anna Conners called out. Her voice was edgy and frustrated, and I could tell she was not on board with my decision.

“The best lesson is to set by example,” I encouraged. Several groans, mostly from the younger sisters, filled the room. I continued. “Sure, the Kappas might laugh at us. And they probably will continue to exploit their Dare victims. But we aren’t responsible for their reformation. Or their punishment.” I looked out over the crowd, catching several sisters’ gazes. “It’s not right to play with someone’s emotions, no matter who they are.”

“I second the motion,” Murphy called out.

I gave her a smile.

“I agree, too,” Leslie added. “Plus, I really like Jason!”

Several girls giggled.

“I think it’s a mistake,” Anna replied. “I think they shouldn’t get away with what they do.”

“You’re right,” I agreed. “But it’s not our place to dish out their consequences.”

Consequences. The word nearly made my stomach queasy.

Several moans still filled the common room. They didn’t dissuade me.

“Is everyone clear on this matter?” I said clearly. “The Dare is officially off.”

The sisters clapped, a sign that the majority agreed.

And I was glad at least one thing was off my conscience.

Over the next several days, I heard nothing from Kane. Olivia texted me each day, letting me know of his condition. Broken ribs, most likely, and contusions to the face and anywhere else those idiots had kicked and punched. Kane had played hardball with some older guys in Covington, and they hadn’t particularly liked their outcome. Cory Maxwell had found out one of the Kappas had not only tipped the guys off, but had told them where Kane would be. They’d followed us that afternoon, and had beaten Kane for his involvement in their bets. Olivia said Brax went nuts, but Kane convinced him to let it go. He wasn’t saying much else. And he wasn’t calling or texting me. The depth of sadness that created inside of me left a gap. A hole. How had I let my emotions get so far gone with Kane McCarthy? And so fast? Each day that passed, I felt more hollow. More cold. I felt like I just wanted to crawl back inside myself. Hide. But I couldn’t. I had to keep up the façade I’d always had.

The next afternoon, my art appreciation class dragged on and on until finally, it ended. I gathered my briefcase, my bag, and started across campus to the café. No one stopped to talk to me. No one smiled, waved, or said hello. I suppose I’d always preferred it that way. Only now, I noticed it more. Kane was right in his assessment of me. I really didn’t have any friends. Other than Murphy and Olivia. I moved through the crowd unnoticed. Invisible. And for the first time since arriving at Winston, it bothered me.

At the café, I bought my usual turkey sandwich, a bottle of apple juice, and quickly headed to my car. In minutes I was at the park in Covington, and I’d claimed my bench. The crisp breeze wasn’t overbearing, but it was chilled. The sun edged closer to the tree line behind the lake, and I peeled the plastic wrap off the sandwich and took a small bite. My appetite had fled completely, so I sat with the plastic container in my hand, watching the joggers on the running path. Kane filled my thoughts.

The image of his scarred back flashed before me. What had he truly endured? What kind of torment had he gone through in his young life? It had to have been a never-ending nightmare. How had he turned out to be so caring? So gentle? I knew he still carried his demons, though. Just like I did. The difference was, he had courage. He had the strength to put his horrors behind him and carry on with his life. Why couldn’t I be more like that? Instead, I kept right on hiding with my monsters, behind my grandmother’s money and the affluent Belle name. I was a coward. Plain and simple. What made me think Kane deserved to be strapped by someone as damaged as me? What made me think I deserved a guy like Kane?

“Pardon me,” a brittle voice said beside me. “Is this seat taken?”

So deep in my thoughts, I was taken off guard. When I looked, a thin, petite elderly woman stood close to the bench. Her hair was white and cut in a jaw-length bob. She wore a pair of black sweatpants, a pair of sneakers, and a Texans sweatshirt. On her head, a white flowered skully with pink flowers.

“Oh,” I answered. “No, please,” I offered. I fought the urge to bolt; I preferred to sit alone, and until now no one had ever asked to sit with me. Not wanting to be rude, I stilled my legs, though, and gave her a smile. The one she returned came easily to her lips, and created lines around her mouth and eyes.

“Thank you,” she said sweetly, with her little tinny old voice. She sat down.

I was unsure what to do then, so I took another tiny bite of sandwich and continued staring at the lake. Small shuffles beside me had my curiosity up, and after sliding a side glance toward the old woman, I saw she’d retrieved a small plastic bag containing three slices of bread. She took one out, ripped off a few pieces, and threw them on the ground in front of us.

“Quack-quack-quack,” she mimicked, calling out to the handful of ducks at the lake’s edge. Just that fast, they began to waddle toward us, returning the quack with gusto and excitement. Like they knew her. I remembered her then, always standing at the water, throwing bread. Quacking to the ducks. I hadn’t given her much thought.