Vicious Boys by Nora Cobb
Chapter Nine
Vicki
I spend over an hour looking for Chase. I march around the entire campus, peek into classrooms, and check the parking lots for his car, repeatedly. I exhale in frustration as I stand on the front lawn of the admins’ building. Where could he be? Shielding my eyes with my hand, I stare across the campus and try to pick him out of hundreds of faces moving across the campus.
I spool through my mind, thinking of where else to look when I finally see Chase cutting across the paths toward the student center. Fuck. I’m too far away to shout his name, and my heels are too high to run in. I watch him intently as if I can make him remain in one place. Chase grabs the handle on the main door and goes inside. My next class is about to start, but I have to ditch it. Yanking off my heels, I run across the campus barefoot to catch up with him. I huff and puff through my open mouth because I never run, but this warrants fast action.
Hurrying inside, I look side to side as I rush down the main hallway. The center is packed with students streaming in for the assigned lunch break. People ignore me as I frantically search each face that I hurry past. I do a double take as I pass the wide entryway into the food court. Chase is sitting by himself at a table near one of the large picture windows. A beam of sunlight highlights the crystal blue in his solemn eyes as he gazes out the window.
He’s lost in thought, but I’m aware of the catty looks aimed in his direction. A couple of girls at another table whisper too loudly. The blonde laughs behind her hand while the brunette gawks at Chase. She twists her lips and widens her eyes in comic gestures that aren’t funny. It’s petty, like her. Chase looks oblivious to what’s kicking up around him. I walk with blinders on as I walk past their table, still carrying my shoes. A day ago, those girls would’ve done anything to get his attention. They’re so fucking fickle.
My pace slows, and I approach Chase carefully as if I need to sneak up on him. It only occurs to me right then that he might be avoiding me. He may take off like a wild cat spooked by a devious hunter. He looks up at me as I tug a chair away from the table and slowly sit down.
“Did Silas talk to you?” I ask.
He shrugs his broad shoulders and picks a green pepper out of his rice bowl. He doesn’t like them and usually tells the cook to leave them out of his order. Methodically, he picks another one out with his fingertips and tosses it onto a growing pile.
“Let’s go to the Bait Shop,” he says, “and get something decent to eat. I feel like soup with a butter roll.”
I’m stunned by his blasé response. “Are you not listening to me?”
He smirks. “Yeah, I’m listening to you. But you’re not listening to me. I don’t want to eat here.” His gaze shifts quickly toward the sightseers and then looks away.
I stare at the half-eaten food in his bowl. The rumors are bothering him, but he won’t admit it. Any other day that food would’ve been gone—green peppers and all. I lower my voice and speak in an urgent whisper. “I really need to talk to you in private.”
Chase avoids my gaze and picks out another pepper. At this point, there’s more food on the table than in the bowl. “About what?” he asks.
There’s always a constant buzz in the food court as people mill about the place waiting for their food or meeting up with their friends. No one should be able to hear us if we whisper, but I’m conscious of every word I utter to him now. “It would be better in private,” I suggest.
He smirks, poking the rice in his bowl with his fork. “Are you talking about that cattiness that Talia posted on her secret thread?”
“You know about it then?” I whisper, staring at the disgusting pile of food. I cover it up with a napkin lying on the table.
He lifts his gaze to mine. “Who doesn’t know about it, Vicki?”
My face heats up as Chase stares steadily at me. He must know it’s my fault. “You don’t seem upset,” I reply softly.
He shrugs and purses his lips. “I’m not thrilled, but I’m also about to graduate, so who gives a fuck. Let the little troll post whatever filth she wants.”
It’s time to confess and beg for forgiveness. “I’m sorry. Marcy told me, and I asked Silas to tell you. I didn’t know anyone else was in the suite. I didn’t know Talia overheard us.”
“That’s a weird combination,” Chase shakes his head. “Why is Talia hanging out in Silas’ suite?”
I sigh. “Theo is dating Rhys, and she’s hanging out with them because she’s Theo’s friend-ish. Chase, I’m so sorry. I thought maybe it would be better if Silas told you. It wasn’t something I wanted to say to you myself.”
Chase doesn’t ask for an explanation, and I don’t offer one. In retrospect, I could’ve gone directly to him, but what would I have sounded like? Jealous and bitter? I demanded he break up with Marcy, with ultimatums attached. And it would’ve sounded selfish coming out of my mouth.
“And he did tell me,” he replies, ending the brief silence. “Marcy is in my past. I broke up with her for the final time. There won’t be a reconciliation or any makeup sex. When I graduate, she’ll remain here while I drive off toward a better future. Vicki, it’s okay.” He reaches over and brushes his thumb against mine. “And you made me a promise.”
I shake my head, feeling the distress down in the pit of my stomach. “You’re too forgiving. I would be pissed off with me.”
He smiles broadly, and maybe it will be okay. “I can afford to be when it works out in my favor. Besides, no names were mentioned. No one is certain it’s me, and nobody knows it was her. I could have been nailing the audiovisual tech for all they know. He’s more age-appropriate,” he teases.
There’s a noticeable shift in the room as the conversation dulls to a low hum. Chase looks past me, and his gaze locks on someone behind me. I feel her presence before I see her. Everyone does. I look over my shoulder, and Marcy is standing in the entryway. She approaches the table slowly. Each step clicks across the tile, coming toward us like a countdown. Too late, I wish we had left for the Bait Shop. But that would have only delayed what is about to happen.
“Did you think it was going to be simple?” Marcy waves her phone in the air, no doubt displaying a text from Chase on the screen. “Did your daddy teach you how to mistreat a woman? You’re such a fucking coward.”
Chase stares out the window again and his expression is stoic like stone. The room is silent, as if everyone is absorbed in watching a blockbuster film. But it’s not a film; it’s someone’s life that’s about to fall apart as a barrage of hateful slurs rains down on him.
“You are nothing!” Marcy shouts, “A pale replica of your shitty father. He’s not vanilla like you. Your father fucked me in your mother’s bed. He likes his wrists tied to the headboard. And you would’ve had a little brother or sister right now if your mother hadn’t demanded I get an abortion.”
“Omigod, will you shut up!” I shout at her.
Marcy looks at me with glowing venom in her eyes, and I wish I could disappear. “Oh, it’s the little rich slut. Your turn is coming,” she growls. “And you know what else?” she smirks at Chase, “You know where I met your father? At a dirty little sex club on Sunset. Do you know what a pillow is? I’ll give you a hint. It takes three people to perform it, and the girl is on top. It’s your dad’s favorite position.”
“Marcy.” Jagan’s voice carries from the entryway. “That’s enough.”
Every word she said must have been heard throughout the building due to the crappy acoustics, and someone had the wherewithal to call Jagan’s office. The attention shifts off Chase onto Jagan, who is rarely seen on campus except for at his office or at the amphitheater. The food court is transfixed by his presence as Jagan purposefully moves toward us. His severe expression lacks its ever-present benevolence as his long silk coat glides behind him as he walks toward Marcy with his hands outstretched. He looks like he’s going to choke her or smite her down. His firm hand wraps around her upper arm, lifting her shoulders at an odd angle as she stumbles to keep her balance.
“My office, Marcy. Now.” Jagan’s nasty tone carries throughout the building. And everyone is thankful that he’s speaking to her and not them.
Stupidly, Marcy starts to protest weakly, but with one practiced movement, Jagan spins her around in a semicircle and points her feet toward the exit. At first, her eyes narrow as if Jagan has no right to boss her until she sees the look in his blazing eyes. May he never look at me with that look of revulsion mixed with pure loathing.
Time halts as we watch until they disappear from sight. Now everyone knows it was Chase sleeping with his teacher, Marcy. My stomach feels queasy as I wait for the bullying to start. Slowly, ambient voices build in volume. Bits of conversation float over to our table and laughter punctuates each sentence.
I can’t believe it. Omigod, it’s disgusting. No wonder he passes all his classes. I wonder what he does for an A-plus.
Chase’s chair scrapes the ground as he stands up. He keeps his back to the room, and the voices rise a notch louder. I glare back at them as if a dirty look could silence them. When they bullied me, I lashed out, but now it kills me to watch Chase not respond. The delighted bottom feeders express hatred and jealousy they’ve hidden all along. He’s crashed to earth, and because of my stupidity, they’ll show Chase no pity.
I know how it feels to be torn down, but I don’t go off. Chase doesn’t need another scene. I gently touch his shoulder and expect him to shrink away, but he doesn’t. I wrap my arm around his waist and hold onto him as we leave from a side exit. We walk to his town house in silence.
His suite is the same layout as mine, and decorated with the typical stuff a guy would have in a bedroom, with a few surprises. There are the generic posters of cars and a seascape at sunset in thin metal frames on the living room walls. But there’s also a vintage surfboard suspended from the ceiling as you walk in. Everything looks cool, and I would’ve looked around under different circumstances. Chase walks to his bedroom, which is in the same position as mine. His bed is also pushed against the far wall so he can sit against the wall and stare out the window into the woods.
Chase lies down in bed with his eyes open as I stand near him. His room is messy, with clothes draped over a chair and random books on the floor, but the mess can’t overshadow the huge poster that covers the wall. It must be several feet long and wide. It’s a still of the little boy from his film project, and I want to ask him about it, but I don’t. I look down when his fingers brush my thigh.
“It’ll blow over by next week,” I lie to him, “you know how it is here.”
He rubs his hands over his eyes, and keeps them there. “I do know how it is here, Vicki. This is bad. It’s one thing when it was an ugly rumor. It’s another when it’s confirmed.”
“I did drugs,” I reply, “And everyone seems to know it, but it blew over.”
“But no one knew for certain.” He rolls onto his side and faces away from me. “Now everyone knows I was screwing my teacher. A teacher who also fucked my dad. It’s not good, Vicki. It’s all over for me here at Redwood.”
I sit on the edge of his bed and run my hand over his tense shoulders. “It’s almost April, and things will blow over,” I insist, “Who has time to gossip during finals?”
“It’s hard to rule a school when people know you’ve fucked up.”
Chase sits up as if a string is tugging him upright, and I’m helpless to know what to say. I used to rage at the world until I lost my way in a haze of drugs. Would he do the same? I never thought of him as a bully. Dom and Silas have always been the ringleaders. Chase prefers a joke to being cruel.
Chase stares out the window. His crystal eyes reflect the light, bringing the blue out from the gray. He’s so beautiful and lonely. I lean close and kiss his cheek softly. Chase looks down at me as if he’d forgotten that I was there. He scoots past me across the bed and stands up.
“I’m going for a drive,” he says, “I’ll be back later.”
At midnight, I get a text from Dom, asking if I’ve seen Chase.
