She Laughs in Pink (Sheridan Hall #1) (28 page)

“Son of a bitch!” The moms move away, and I stare at Ben, processing his words. I’m afraid to ask, but need to know. “Did he rape her?” I whisper.

“She says he didn’t. She was about to…do something, anything…then Frank came in.”

My eyes tear as I think about Juliet being so desperate to save Pooja. She couldn’t save Justine, but she saw the chance to save Pooja and took it. How could she not? I should have known. I should have realized the day after the shooting, the day of the funeral, how skittish she’d been. I should have dug deeper. Instead, I’d abandoned her.

The guy sitting across from me didn’t abandon her, though. I look at Ben. “I never thanked you for saving her. I don’t know what she would have done without you. You…you are her hero. No wonder she’s crazy about you.”

Ben shakes his head. “There’s no reason to thank me. Frank’s dead. I was scared shitless. I was just more scared for her than myself. You would have done the same.”

We sit in silence for a moment.

“Ben? Did you ask Juliet to go home to Pennsylvania?”

He takes a sip of his coffee and shrugs. “I don’t know why she came. I didn’t ask her to. Her parents are kind of cold to me. I don’t know why. They’ve been like that since I first met them.”

Ben doesn’t know about Justine.
Poor Juliet’s had to deal with her parents since her sister’s death?
No wonder she clung to Ben.

Ben takes a sip of his coffee. “Juliet spent most of her time with me in the rehab. She acted like a mama bear, yelling at nurses and therapists on my behalf, taking out her frustration on them.”

“She’s as protective of you as you are of her.” When I say the words, I’m not jealous, and I’m not sure what to make of that.

“I love her. I protect her.”

Again, I’m not jealous, just disappointed in myself.

“You know,” Ben says, leaning forward onto his elbows, “before Cameron showed up at Sheridan, Jules and I were about to have a conversation. About you.”

Juliet
did
try to break up with Ben.
“I…I’m sorry.” I don’t know what to say. I’m not really sorry, either.

“Don’t.” He holds up a hand to stop me. “I knew what she was going to say when she didn’t come back the night before. We’ve talked about it since. She loves me,” Ben says, and my heart tightens at the cracked open spot. “But not the same way as she loves you.”

“I…I…” I stutter but at the same time my blood pumps faster.
Ben thinks Juliet loves me still
. “It’s over,” I tell him. “We talked yesterday. She’s done with me.”

“So you’re just giving up?” He crosses his arms again, studying me, waiting for my answer.

I shrug. Juliet’s right. I am stuck in a hole. Ben can’t understand. He’s never stuck. He doesn’t know how hard it is to come back when you’re so far gone. If he couldn’t hold on to Juliet, what makes him think I can? “All I can do is give up.”

Ben leans back in his chair and circles his injured arm, stretching it. “Still hurts.” He grimaces and rubs his shoulder. “I probably shouldn’t be starting street fights.”

He’ll have to live with that scar forever. No matter what, Juliet will always be a part of him. Every time he feels that ache in his shoulder, he’ll remember the shooting, what he did to save her.

“Look,” he says, “I know we’re all off track now. We’re all sad, confused, and fucking lost. But now’s not the time to give up on each other. She’s right about Sheridan. We need to get back. You and Jules, though? Don’t give up, C. C. She’s worth the effort.”

Thoughts of Juliet play through my brain like a movie reel. I’m jealous of Ben, but in a good way this time. He’s generous and strong. He takes a bullet, loses a friend, loses a girlfriend, and loses his ability to play a game he loves, yet somehow manages to stay intact while I come apart at the seams.

Juliet loves me. She needs me. It takes a conversation with Ben, of all people, for me to realize that. I smile when I hear the click in my numbskull brain and everything comes together. I can almost feel Gram’s hand smacking me in the back of the head.
Thanks, Gram
. I know she has something to do with this moment—the moment when my whole world opens back up.

Now I have to figure out how to get her back.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Juliet

I stand at the entrance to NJU, my coat wrapped around me tightly, mesmerized by the colors of the sky. It’s a beautiful backdrop to the University. The giant, wrought-iron gates are strewn with holly and red bows for the holiday season. On the other side of the gate, students prepare to go home for winter break. Christmas is a couple of days away, and I haven’t even thought about the holidays.

The first news van arrives exactly at five forty-five p.m. Robin Woodson, the newscaster who’d been all over Ben, talks to Megan and Ben as her crew sets up. Ben the charmer will probably always have women falling at his feet. At least he has me to screen the good from the bad. I look at Megan and surprise myself by thinking,
good.
The newscaster?
Bad.

My feet freeze in my boots, and my cheeks sting from the cold. Rodrigo, Winston, and Maggie scurry around, hooking up wires and microphones to some sort of generator they’re running from an old minivan. I stay out of their way. I have no idea what they’re doing. I just hope it works—the equipment, the speech, everything.

Ten of the twelve residents of Sheridan’s basement stand by the gates, behind the lectern that Rodrigo had set up. When I ask Maggie where he got it from, she simply replies, “He has access.” I don’t press her. It doesn’t really matter. I’m just glad to have something to grab onto during my speech since there’s a possibility I’ll pass out at some point.

Ben catches my eye and winks. As I watch him, so beautiful and animated and sweet, my heart swells with love. I know he’ll be in my life forever. When he found me in Evander High on that September day four years ago, that hadn’t been an accident. The universe knew what I needed—a brother, and that’s what Ben has become. He is my pillar of strength when I can’t find my own. Romantically, I know now we’d never work, but the four years I spent trying were probably all part of the plan, too.

Chase? Did he fit in the plan?
He threw my plans and my universe for a loop. When he appeared in my path it seemed like the universe cried, “Turns out that Ben’s not your connection! Here’s that connection you’ve been searching for! We just found him balled up in a mess in New York City and sent him to you. Now we’re going to fuck with you both a little. Good luck!”

I’m looking forward to moving on with my life, and I’m proud that I was able to choose myself over Chase, but I still miss him. Chase means drama, emotions, and baggage. But he also means passion and love, color and life. First loves, the real kind, aren’t meant to work out, though. That’s why they’re first.
I have to let him go
. I just hope I can.

We set up the makeshift stage as a campus police officer rides by. He asks Rocco what’s going on. Rocco stammers some elusive answer. It’s only a matter of time before the police come and kick us out.

I have to get my message out, soon.

When another press van pulls up, then another, and another, I realize my little press conference is going to be bigger than I thought. A New York news van joins them, and suddenly I’m going national. Crews test equipment and news people chat, taking notes and checking out the scene. Flustered, I pace in circles and think about running away. Instead, I shut my eyes.
I’m Juliet Anderson, and I don’t do flustered
, I remind myself. I breathe to calm my nerves and when I open my eyes, I’m ready.

I walk to the lectern and the lights turn on.

Chase

“Good evening,” Juliet says, as I hide near the NJU entrance gate, watching the scene unfold.

When the bright white lights shine on her, Juliet looks phenomenal in front of the cameras—comfortable and beautiful. Her red cheeks, probably frozen, look full and healthy. She wears a cute hat and her gray wool coat over her black turtleneck sweater. She stands behind a podium gripping what appears to be a framed photo of Frank. Despite the cold weather, her colors are warm.
Fiery Juliet
.

Some of the residents of Sheridan Hall line up in a row behind her along the black wrought iron gates of NJU. Even Douchey Dolch, the RA, shows up. I see Tina in the crowd and wave. Campus police line the periphery but don’t seem too concerned about shutting down the operation. Through it all, Juliet keeps her cool.

“Thank you all for coming and for the support you’ve shown us while we deal with this tragedy. We’re here tonight for two reasons. First, to tell you about our friend, Francis O’Leary. And second, to ask you for your help.”

Juliet pauses and looks down at the podium, taking a breath before she holds up the picture of Frank. “Frank O’Leary was a wonderful man. Handsome, smart, and a lot of fun to be around. With the help of his grandmother, he built a life for himself. His future was so bright. We’ve heard you talk about Frank for weeks now, and how a school shooter tragically took his life. How this random act of violence killed such a bright star. What happened, though, wasn’t a random act of violence. It was a targeted attack by an ex-boyfriend on an ex-girlfriend.”

Reporters scribble notes like mad as Juliet talks. I see where she’s going with this, and I stand up straighter, hoping the reporters quiet down so I can hear her words.

“The person targeted in this attack had been previously kidnapped and assaulted by the alleged perpetrator of the Sheridan Hall shooting. When she reported the kidnapping to the police, they called it a prank by an ex-boyfriend. The restraining order she fought for did nothing to protect her. When we told campus police that we had reason for concern, they told us there was nothing they could do until the perpetrator showed up and did something. The target of this attack is so overwhelmed with guilt that she couldn’t even be here tonight. She blames herself for what happened. I stand here today for her because she’s not ready to stand here for herself.”

I see Juliet’s reds and oranges and can tell she’s summoning the courage to continue. She looks to the cameras again. “Listen…” She pauses, looking down at the podium then back at the crowd. “I’m just a pissed off kid. I don’t have the answers. All I know is this: something has to be done.”

The lights of the cameras flash.
God, she’s beautiful
. She blinks, blinded by the flashes, then looks behind her toward Ben. “Besides losing Frank, Benjamin Riley has a scar that he’ll have to live with for the rest of his life. He’s lost his chance at a football career.” Ben grips her shoulder, giving her the support he always provides.

She looks back to the crowd. “Sometime along the way, Sheridan became our home. But because of what happened, we’ve lost our freshman year and with it the memories we made those first few months. I even fell in love in the basement of Sheridan. The shooting made me lose that.”

For a minute, I think Juliet’s talking about Ben, until her colors tell me otherwise. For the first time since Pooja told me to feel the colors, not just see them, it happens. I feel them straight from Juliet’s heart. She’s talking about me. The feeling passes, replaced with nausea at knowing I’d been lucky enough to be the person she’d chosen to give her love to, but had fucked it up.

“Our first semester is gone, tapped off with the horror of that day. At eighteen and nineteen years old, we’ve lost our innocence.”

Juliet shields her eyes and looks at the officers behind the cameras, watching curiously. “Let me finish.” Juliet holds up a finger. “I’ll be quick.”

The newscasters ignore the police presence and stay focused on Juliet. She has that effect on people—mesmerizing and glowing and amazing. She continues, “As I was saying, we Sheridan students lost a lot. We know we had to relocate for security reasons, but now the police work is done. Sheridan’s been closed since the incident. We all want our home back.

“I’ve called and written and stormed into every office on this campus. President Hernandez refuses to listen to me. The Housing Department banned me from entering their building. I’ve even reached out to some of you, the reporters, for help getting Sheridan open.

“I know it’s controversial considering what went down there, but we need each other. All I ask is for the University to open the doors for us, for the ones who want to return. Frank was taken from us. Don’t let our home be taken from us, too.”

Juliet talks over the chatter. “Let me be clear. The University has been good to us. We’ve had representatives track us down, and we’ve been given the opportunity for counseling. But we don’t know why the University refuses to acknowledge our housing request. Please open Sheridan Hall. We want our lives back.” Juliet turns and asks the students, “Am I asking for too much?” Those behind her murmur support.

“Like I said,” she continues, her reds swirling passionately above her, “I’m just a pissed off kid. I’m a pissed off college freshman who wants to live in her dorm room with her roommate and her friends to honor her fallen friend and to try to heal. We can’t heal when we are scattered around campus like a bunch of homeless students.”

As Juliet shines, arguing her cause, a man in a suit climbs out of the back of a University security vehicle. Juliet loses the cameras as they turn toward the man, and I hear the reporters murmur.

The president of NJU, Willis Hernandez, towers over Juliet, but she doesn’t back away. When he turns to the cameras, the reporters start yelling questions.

“Is it true that you refuse to let these kids back in the dorm?”

“Is it true campus police failed to investigate the complaint?”

“Do you have any comments?”

President Hernandez lifts his hands to the cameras. “First,” he bellows, “I’d like to let Ms. Anderson finish what she needs to say. Then I would like to make a short statement on behalf of the university.”

The cameras turn back to Juliet. “Thank you, President Hernandez. I don’t have much more to say. I just wanted to get your attention. Since you’re standing here with us, it seems to have worked.”

I snicker along with the rest of the crowd.
She’s scary when she has a cause
, I remember Ben saying. He’s wrong though. She’s not scary at all. She’s a goddamn force of nature.

Juliet

I’m shaking inside as President Hernandez takes center stage and talks into the microphone. “As I’ve said too many times these past couple of weeks, what happened at this school was nothing short of a tragedy. I didn’t have the honor of knowing Frank personally, but I’ve learned that he was a wonderful man, loved by many. Francis O’Leary was a hero.

“Tonight, I acknowledge that Ms. Anderson’s assessment of the incident is true. This incident was targeted at a brave young woman who did everything she could to prevent it.” I hope Pooja hears his words and gets it through that thick skull of hers that this wasn’t her fault.

“This great state and this great university do not tolerate domestic violence—any violence, of any sort. With that in mind, I have a plan. While nothing can fix the losses incurred on that November night, I’m going to ask that an annual scholarship be funded in Francis O’Leary’s name. His brave act will not be forgotten.”

I clap along with the crowd, pleased Hernandez acknowledged Frank.

“In addition, I will call for the creation of a committee to investigate, improve, and educate the university community, faculty, and students, on violence issues. I’ll task the committee with improving our student hotline and training our campus officers and hotline volunteers in handling issues of abuse and domestic violence. My first official order of business in that regard is to invite Ms. Anderson to serve on the committee as Student Liaison.”

President Hernandez and the cameras look to me and catch my stunned reaction. He steps away from the podium to speak with me privately. “Will you accept the position?” he asks.

I don’t know what that means, really, but I say, “I’d be honored,” and shake his hand.

President Hernandez moves back to the podium and shushes everyone. “Juliet Anderson makes me proud to be president of this fine university. She exemplifies the spirit of the students here and lives by the code of honor that we encourage students to adopt. She’s brought to our attention our failings in how we handled this tragedy and she has made her points with intelligence and grace. Though she refers to herself as a ‘pissed off kid,’ we see her as a shining example of the excellence of the next generation. The university, however, to borrow Ms. Anderson’s words, is a pissed off institution. An institution that has never had to deal with the horrors faced in the last few weeks, and that hopes to never again. I see now, through these unified students of Sheridan Hall, that Ms. Anderson is right.”

My heart races as President Hernandez looks to me. “Sheridan Hall will open after Christmas break for those who wish to return.”

My jaw drops as those behind me whoop and clap. Ben scoops me up and swings me around, whispering in my ear, “You did it, Jules.” The other residents of Sheridan surround me, and we end up in a group hug.

For whatever reason, I look to the sky and think about Justine. Instead of wishing she were here with me, as I usually do, I thank her for watching over me.
Someday I’ll see you again, sweet girl
.
I have a bit more to take care of down here first.
When I look back to the crowd, I see him walking away.