In the Wake of Wanting (22 page)

“Yeah. Well, what we want to talk to you about is… it’s about the past, but not about history, or the program, Lucy. I need to talk to you about something rather serious and potentially sensitive. And I’m not actually sure this is for
The Wit.
We
are
investigating a developing story, and I think you may be able to help us.”

“I know it’s not the most ethical way to get you here and enlist your help,” Coley adds.

“I wasn’t sure you would come if I told you what this was about in advance.”

Coley speaks. “Your discretion is important. If word spreads about our speculation, it could cause a lot of problems for us.”

“Let’s stop being so secretive and why don’t you guys just tell me why I’m here?”

I look to Coley for encouragement. She smiles and nods, providing me what I need. “Lucy, you know that Asher Knoxland and I are fraternity brothers and friends, right?”

“Best friends.”

“We’ve been close pretty much since I started working at the paper… but some things have happened recently that make me think that he’s not the honorable guy I thought he was.” I watch for her reaction. Her eyes don’t divert from mine, and she nods her head. “Would you consider him honorable?”

She swallows. “I’ve questioned why you hang around him.”

“Why?”

“He’s not
good
, Trey. I worked with you for three hours a day twice a week for a full semester last spring. I got to know you pretty well. You’re a
really
good guy. Always polite and helpful. You explained things that I didn’t understand, and you graciously listened to me when I explained things to you. When I was absent, you sent me notes without me having to ask for them–you even typed them out for me, because I know you handwrite everything, and I’d complained to you that I couldn’t read your handwriting. Even though we were competing with other teams for grades in that class, you helped other people when they needed assistance–which drove me crazy until I realized we were far enough ahead that it wouldn’t hurt us. You were reliable–always there and always
present
, too
.
”

“That’s just me being a good student.”

“Outside of class, you’re polite and helpful, too. With all your volunteer work? And your involvement in activities on-campus? You believe in things and act on them. Things that don’t even affect you personally. Things that you just know are right for others. That are for the betterment of our little world here.”

I shrug my shoulders, unsure how to take her statement of facts. It’s all true.

“Asher’s never done anything for anyone but himself.”

He’s participated in the volunteer work we do for the fraternity, but it’s sort of a required thing, so I don’t know that it really counts. He’s done things for me, though. Helped to advance my standing at
The Wit
. I always thought he was doing it to be a friend, but now I’m wondering if I should look deeper into his motivations.

“Do you ever think maybe he’s using you?”

“I
hadn’t
,” I tell her. “He has money.”

“But his family doesn’t have the clout yours does. Especially here in New York.”

“That may be,” I say. “Lucy, I want to make a point here: I’m not Asher, and Asher’s not me… and I would never stand by him if he did anything that hurt a friend of mine or violated their trust.”

“Okay,” she says simply, taking a cracker from the platter in the middle of the table and setting it on a napkin in front of her. She breaks it into fourths and takes a piece of it to eat.

I decide to press on, trying to make it more obvious. “I would especially distance myself if he ever violated…
someone
.”

Lucy nods her head, staring at the food in front of her and eating another piece in a daze.

“Lucy,” Coley says, helping me out, “were you at a party at the Sig Rho house at the beginning of the year? The back-to-school party?”

“Yes.”

“Did you spend any time with Asher Knoxland?”

Her voice becomes listless as she answers. “Yes.”

“Lucy,” I say softly, trying to get her attention. “Do you remember when I came outside into the backyard? When I shined the light on you two in the corner?”

She nods her head quickly and tears form in her eyes. Coley moves from the armchair she’d been sitting in to the seat on the couch next to Lucy.

“Was he taking things further than you wanted them to go?” she asks her.

Lucy nods again.

“You were telling him to stop, weren’t you?” I ask her.

“He had his fingers in me,” she says just ahead of sobs that erupt from somewhere deep within her. “I didn’t want them there. I didn’t want them on me. In me. Near me. I wanted him off of me. He wouldn’t go. I couldn’t move him. I tried. I couldn’t. He said I wanted it. That I had asked for it. But I didn’t. I told him I wanted to kiss him. That I wanted to know what it was like. I’d had a few drinks, and I finally got the nerve to tell him that. And he kissed me. Asher Knoxland kissed me. Sweetly. And he said he liked kissing me. He said he wanted to do it somewhere more private. That it felt too special for so many people to be watching us. But all the bedrooms were taken. We went out back. No one else was there. I wanted to stay on the porch, where there was light. He didn’t. He pulled me to that dark corner. And his kisses weren’t sweet anymore. They were hard. The back of my head kept hitting the fence on one side or the brick wall on the other side. When I tried to move, he put one hand up my sweater, under my bra. He was hurting me, squeezing so hard. When I started to shout, his kisses hurt me more. He had me pinned in that corner, using his legs and feet to keep me still, to spread my legs. He said he’d heard I was a virgin, and he wanted to see if it was true. I told him I was. I tried to tell him, but I couldn’t talk with his mouth on mine.

“While I would gasp for air, he’d say, ‘You know it feels good. A finger fuck isn’t even sex. I want to have sex with you. I’ll fuck you so good.’”

I push myself up off the floor and go out onto the balcony, gripping the railing until my knuckles are white. I feel sick to my stomach.
Sick
that he did that to Lucy.
Sick
that he may have done something similar–or worse–to Pryana.
Sick
that he was so close to Coley when she was alone and defenseless.
Sick
that I’ve spent so many hours with him.
Sick
that I ever trusted him.
Sick
that people associate me with him.
Sick
that I’ve called him my friend. I heave into a potted plant, but my empty stomach yields only bile and saliva.

After moving my hair off of my face, I let the cold wind whip against my clammy skin. I think I would cry if these women weren’t in my house. I feel betrayed and fooled and foolish and clueless and wonder if I’ve ever been a good judge of anyone’s character, or if I’ve just lucked out all of my life, and only been confronted with good people. If my Catholic school upbringing has only put me in the path of other good people, and now that I’m out in the real world, only now do I start having to use this skill… having to learn this skill. Not only is Asher not a person with good moral fiber, he’s about the
worst
kind of human there is.

“Trey?” Coley says. “You need to hear this. Are you okay to come back inside?”

“Yeah,” I say, getting off of my knees and following her back into my apartment. I go by the sink first and wipe off my face with a wet rag, getting a little relief from the superficial cleansing.

I decide to sit in the armchair, my muscles still tensed and in need of a comfortable seat.

“Lucy didn’t report the incident,” Coley says.

“The part where he said the finger fuck–”

“Wasn’t sex,” I interrupt her, shaking my head, wishing I’d never heard that and still in disbelief that he would spew such lies to a woman. “Yeah.”

“It got in my head… like, maybe it wasn’t really
rape
.”

“Oh, shit, Lucy,” I say, disgusted.

“I feel so stupid.”

“Don’t,” Coley and I say at the same time.

“He’s a master manipulator,” I explain, possibly realizing it at the same time it comes out of my mouth. “It obviously worked for him.”

“But, Trey,” Coley says, “two weeks ago, Lucy confided this to one of her friends. She said that friend knows a girl who went out with Asher last year and woke up in her bed with no recollection of what happened the previous night. She says when she woke up, her jeans were off and her panties were on backwards and barely pulled up to cover her. She asked Asher about it, but he swears nothing happened. He says she was all over him, but he dropped her off and left. But she said she felt sore–
bruised
–for a few days after. She didn’t tell anyone, either.”

“Why?” I ask. “Why does no one say anything?”

“It’s
Asher Knoxland
,” Lucy says. “The fact that he pays any attention to you at all is… kind of like something you never thought would happen to you. Just like if
you
asked a girl out. She feels like a princess. She’s so high that… it’s a long way from there to the lowest of lows that we’re all suggesting happens. My brain didn’t really want to make that connection. Didn’t want to admit it was even a possibility.”

I glance at Coley.
She
was pretty quick to make the leap today. I’ve never asked her out, though. She’s not on the princess high, obviously, so that’s different.

“What he’s doing is unforgivable. I don’t care who he is. None of you should care who he is.”

“I don’t now.”

“Reporting him the first time would have kept it from happening to you. Would have kept it from happening to our friend.”

Lucy and Coley both look at me, surprised–Lucy, because she didn’t know Asher had hurt anyone else; Coley, because she didn’t expect me to reveal why we were asking these questions of Lucy.

“He did this to someone else?”

“A friend of ours was raped. We’re not
sure
it’s him,” I disclose. “But if he did do it, Lucy, we want to make sure he never gets away with it again.”

“Is this for
The Wit
?” she asks. “Isn’t he the president and editor or something?”

Coley shrugs her shoulders to answer her first question.

“I’m not doing this for the story,” I tell Lucy. “I’m doing it to try to solve a crime. If there’s a story when all is said and done, then maybe it’s something we’ll tell. Obviously we would have to circumvent him, but if he’s guilty, I doubt that would be a problem.”

“We can use an alias for you, Lucy,” Coley says. I nod my head. “Do you think you could find out the other girl’s name for me? I’d like to talk to her.”

“I’ll ask my friend. I’ll be discreet.”

“Thank you, Lucy. And I’m so sorry that he did this to you.”

“Trey, as far as I’m concerned, you were my hero that night. Who knows how long it would have continued or how much worse it could have gotten had you not interrupted him?”

“I wish I’d been faster. A few minutes earlier to spare you of this at all, Luce. No woman deserves this.”

“No. Do what you have to in order to stop him,” she says. “Even if it’s using my name.”

“Thanks. And if you need anything–anything at all–please ask me.”

“Or if you need someone to talk to,” Coley offers, “I’m a good listener.” She hands Lucy her phone number.

“She is,” I tell her. “If you are in need of another friend, Coley’s a good one to have.”

Lucy smiles. “I’m gonna tell everyone that I know
The Wit
poet. They’ll be jealous of me.”

“Feel free to use me,” Coley says, joking.

“I like her, Trey,” Lucy says. “You should keep her around.”

“Right?” I agree as the corners of my lips naturally rise. “Let me walk you down.”

“I’m fine. Your building’s crazy secure. So many cameras and doormen and concierge and… crazy.”

“If you’re sure,” I say.

“I’m sure. Thank you both. I feel a little lighter. Good luck.”

“Thanks.”

Coley’s putting food away when I turn back around after activating the security system. I help her out, but neither of us say anything. When we’re done, the couch seems like the natural place for us to settle. We sit close to one another. I feel the need to be near her; protective of her.

“I can’t stop thinking about him coming to the hotel yesterday,” she says. “I was scared, but I had no idea what kind of danger he actually posed, Trey. I was standing in front of him in short shorts and a top that–if you looked closely enough–you could see through it. It was an open invitation.”