It's Wednesday, the day before Thanksgiving. The clouds are still holding the sun prisoner and I haven't had any beautiful sunrises to draw. Today in Trawlen's class, the usual ignoring tactic has faded. He looks me in the eye when he calls on me, his voice doesn't waver when he calls my name either. I'm caught off guard, but pleased that I can participate in the class. My grade does need to improve. I remember what Trawlen said to me over the phone that day and my skin stiffens into goose bumps. After class, I head out with everyone else. Trawlen watches me leave, but not in a perverse manner. His eyes are fixed on my hair, his lips drawn together in a serious scowl. I'd almost prefer the sexy look. At least I know what that means.
I pick up my mail in the Union, another bill and a letter from the Dean. I stuff the bill into my bag, but open the Dean's letter. The last one wasn't as bad as I thought. A reminder about my financial aid packet for next semester. This one isn't as good.
"Dear Miss Perry, It is with great regret that we reject your application for financial aid for the spring semester. Furthermore, this office would suggest a visit in order to complete your paperwork. Please join the Dean in his office Wednesday the 25th at 4pm. At that time, your position at this university will be discussed."
They suggest a visit and then require me to be there at a certain time? I hate suits and ties. And why is my financial aid being rejected? Can they even do that? I asked Kyle.
"Maybe there was some mistake and they want to correct it?" Kyle's face isn't convincing.
"Right. I just don't like how they said that my "position at this university will be discussed". Like there's something wrong with me. They wouldn't ask me to come in if it was just my grades. But even they've been improving. And they can't just strip me of my financial aid, right? Isn't there something like a suspension?"
"Yeah. Well, academic probation. You have a full semester to bring your grades back up. And then if you don't, your scholarships or aid is revoked. They kicked out Danny Rourke last semester for that. That, and they caught him cheating on tests."
"But I've got aid from Maine. They don't have the right to take that away, do they? That's not their decision."
"Well, if they have reason to believe that your not worthy of the money, then it is their decision."
"What kind of reason?" My stomach starts to feel like I ate too much ice cream. I'm light-headed. My thoughts race to the only dramatic conclusion I can think of.
"Well, like Danny. They caught him cheating, which is against school policy. So, anything against school policy. Or if it's bigger than the school. I heard that a couple years ago, they had to kick out a student for being a convicted felon. Well, not just for that. He lied on his application. But yeah, anything to do with the city's or state's laws. They don't even have to tell you, I don't think." I sit down on my bed and prop myself up with a hand. Kyle sits next to me, his arm around my shoulder.
"What's wrong? Are you feeling ok? You look like you're..." I get up quickly and run to the bathroom. Kyle hears my heaving and the splattering of toilet water. "...going to throw up."
"Kyle... I want to find out everything about school policy." I come out of the bathroom, my body slack with worry and my face pale. Kyle stands up and holds out his hands. When I don't put mine in his, he grabs my hands.
"Stop worrying." I look up at his face, his eyes searching mine. "School policy is public property. Everything we want to know is here. We just have to find it." I smile.
"We?" He smiles back.
"Yeah... we."
In the couple of hours before my suggested appointment time, Kyle and I researched school policy. Well, Kyle did most of the researching. My mind was reeling. Somewhere inside myself, I knew what this was about. Teachers and students aren't supposed to have more than a cordial, in-class relationship. But another voice inside my head was telling me to calm down. How could anyone have found out? Nothing's happened since October. And even then, it was twice. Two little times. Not every day, not visible to the public.
Kyle can sense something's going on in my head, but I can't bring myself to tell him. If I tell him now, but the problem isn't Trawlen, then how would I ever live it down? How would we ever go on with any sense of trust? But if I don't tell him now and it is Trawlen.... Kyle would never want to be with me. A sudden wave of fear sweeps over me. I calm myself down. Going crazy isn't an answer.
The buildings on campus are impressive and menacing at times. Architectural students would surely see them as a means to an A+ paper, with their Greek and Roman influences. Students like myself, with no other ties to these administrative buildings other than meetings with the Dean and all the other bureaucratic suits, merely see these monstrous buildings as a necessary evil in the graduation process. The Dean's office is no different than the building it occupies. The walls are covered in dark green wallpaper, his wooden desk and chair taking up half his office. Not that his office is small, but rather that the furniture is massive. Tall bookcases seeming as though they lean over you in accusation. Everything about his office makes me cringe and shrink back into myself.
"Angela Perry. It's nice to put a face with the name." He doesn't smile.
"It's nice to meet you as well, sir." My hands folded in my lap, my spirit that of a five-year old on timeout.
"Miss Perry, I'm sure you're aware of the reason for this meeting." His last word lingers in my mind and it takes a couple of seconds for me to respond.
"My financial aid is being rejected." My face wrinkles in a question. My throat is dry.
"Yes, your financial aid is being revoked on the basis of severe accusations against your person. It has come to my attention that a certain elicit relationship between yourself and one of our professors...." His voice goes on. I stare at his moving lips, but my head is blank. My ears are deaf to any noise, except for the shallow breaths I take. Elicit. He knows. How does he know? Somehow my brain shuts down and I can't even react to his words. I can feel my chest expanding and contracting, but I don't notice my breathing. My body is suddenly millions of miles away, trapped in some room with no windows.
A sharp pain at my fingers shocks me back to the Dean's office. I've broken the skin. My nail dug into the back of my hand. The skin around my fingers is white and bright red, pressured into a tight cocoon around my bones and muscles. My head turns as the door opens and Trawlen enters. My breath comes quickly back into my lungs. I can't let go of my own hands, despite the pain. My body tenses and my vision goes hazy. I blink my eyes twice as often to clear the blur, but nothing changes. Trawlen. My mind can't come up with a swear word big enough for him. The Dean, still speaking to my empty body, is leading me by the elbow out of his office. A blur of colors flanks my movement; tall trees flashing past the corner of my eye.
I'm back alone in my room somehow. I sit and stare out my window, the blank expression from earlier still not wiped away. I can't cry. It's as if my body doesn't have any left for something like this. The phone rings, but I can't make myself move to answer it. I don't even turn my head to look at the caller ID. Time rushes by me, but I can't feel its presence. It's growing dark, the stars gleaming through intermittent clouds. A full moon. The phone rings again.
Out of nowhere, a knock at my door. I don't answer. Another more persistent knock. Then a voice. Kyle. His voice brings me back to Earth. To my room. To my situation. I float over to my door and open it. Kyle's eyes are confused.
"I called about four times. Where were you?" His hands grab my arms, exploring my face for any details I can give him.
"Here." I look up into his eyes and see his concern. I merely blink at him. His brow furrows and hugs me to him.
"You look terrible. What happened at the meeting? What did he say to you?" I can't speak, but my mind is brought back to the events. I can see them happening, but I can't explain. I try anyway.
"Trawlen," is all I can muster. Kyle is even more confused. Of course he would be. And I remind myself of my thoughts earlier to tell him before the shit hit the fan.
"Trawlen... He told the Dean." Kyle sits me down on the bed.
"Told him what? What does Trawlen have to do with this?" I can't look at Kyle, but the words effortlessly spill from my lips like water.
"I slept with him." I close my eyes and imagine Kyle's face. He's angry, his eyes furious with darkness and rage. He's disappointed, a frown crossing his handsome face. He's not surprised, a slight shrug of the shoulders. That last image jolts my eyes open. Please, don't let it be that one. It isn't. Kyle's face is shocked. His eyes are wide and unfocused. I try to catch my own breath as I watch him catch his. He seems eerily calm, like the air before a storm breaks. I sit and wait for his storm to crack thunder and lightning over my head. But it never comes. He gets up, walks over to the window and stares. I'm reminded how I must have looked only minutes before.
"Kyle..." He doesn't respond. From behind, I see his head dip into his hands. He runs his fingers through his hair and turns around, sitting on the sill. Normally, I would be afraid. But not with Kyle. His face is too relaxed for him to be truly angry. I'm in awe.
"It's ok." His words are sharp and echo inside my head. "It's ok, I understand. No wonder you were the way you were when we met. A traumatic experience like that can..."
"Traumatic....? You think he....?" Kyle's face wrinkles in confusion. "Trawlen didn't do anything I didn't want him to do. I wasn't raped." My voice doesn't crack, but my shoulders and chest are heavy. Kyle leans towards me, crowding me against my bed.
"You slept with him?" His eyes are still, almost cold. Deep in my stomach, I feel afraid.
"Yes. Twice." My normal tactic of avoidance and denial is apparently missing. I can't even look away from Kyle's unwavering stare. Kyle finally turns around and I take a deep breath in, my lungs searing from the sudden rush.
"I did something wrong." The words are the only thing I can repeat inside my head, leading myself further down into the guilt. Without warning, a few tears slip down my cheeks, warming my face.
"Why?" Kyle's voice is harsh and full of anger. I can't decide what I should do. Does he want me to leave? No, this is my room. Does he want to leave? In my silence, I hear Kyle take a few deep breaths.
"Angela, why did you have sex with him?" Another long pause from me. I truly can't find any words for an explanation. "Are you going to answer me?! I asked you a fucking question! What the fuck were you thinking?! He's a professor! And you had sex with him!" With the introduction of the word fuck, I can feel words coming to life inside my mouth.
"Kyle... please..." My voice isn't on my side, sounding weak and guilty.
"What? You didn't think I would react this way? Just because I'm so nice? Because I'm so happy?" It's as if the room is suddenly smaller. I can now see his shoulders shaking.
"Kyle...?" Now his name sounds so strange coming from my lips. I've never been here before. I slowly walk towards his shivering frame, reaching out for his back. My hand looks tiny compared to him. I realize how he towers over me. Suddenly, I can't convince myself to touch him. Instead, I walk to the bed and sit. Kyle seems frozen to the spot, but his shaking is now unnoticeable.
"He seduced me." I decide to do the only thing left to do. If Kyle is silent, then I'll tell him. Everything.
I tell him how Trawlen started flirting with me from the first week of the semester. I flirted back, but thought nothing of it. But when I went up to his office one afternoon to ask him about our most recent paper, it became something else. We had sex on his desk. I can't even remember how it got that far, but it happened. After that first time, I tried not to flirt with him. But the sex was good. Very good. When I visited his office a second time, it felt exciting that time, thinking that what I was doing was forbidden. But as I was leaving, I could hear Trawlen explaining away the noises to another professor. They bought it, but I got scared. I didn't flirt with him again after that. He always tried to woo me into another encounter, but I never did go into his office again. Not one step.
Kyle's face throughout the story is one of concentration. He doesn't interrupt me, even when I talk about the sex. He doesn't roll his eyes or sigh through his nose. Nothing. At the end of my story, I silence myself to wait for his reply. Now he stands by the window, his shoulders very relaxed and calm.
"Uh... I think I'm gonna go. But I'll call you." My fears are confirmed with those last words. He'll never call. My eyes are cast downward, leaving my face to follow. "I will. I want to talk about this, but right now I need to just go. So... yeah... I'll call you later." I can only nod in response. Kyle picks up his jacket and heads for the door. He opens it, turning the knob slowly. A sliver of sound comes from the hallway. Kyle turns towards me, his eyes ringed with redness. He looks tired. I can't help myself. I walk towards him, my eyes searching for something. Like he's missing something. Kyle reaches out, his hand brushing my cheek softly. I close my eyes as his fingers move away. I feel the air around him rush away from me. I listen to the sound of the door closing. When I open my eyes, he's gone.
For a moment, I can't move. I'm back at that place before Kyle came in. Frozen, stony, silent. I'm reminded of how Kyle looked only minutes before. The world around me travels fast, a blur of light and air. Time passes, although I can't tell how quickly. What seems like a minute is actually more like twenty. For me, hours pass. It grows dark. The night sky is a far away speck, my vision overpowered by the ceiling. I feel big inside my room, the walls vibrating. The phone rings. I blink my eyes hard, seeing the phone for the first time in days.
"Hello?" From somewhere inside me, hope fizzles and bubbles its way to my throat.
"Hi." The hope in my throat bursts out in quick and shallow gasps of air. Kyle.
"I... I can't..."
"Ang... Just let me talk." I sit, a hand under my thigh. I lick my lips and stare at the ceiling. "I'm not over this. But I can't sit around and not do anything. I do care for you and love you. This doesn't change the fact that I said those words to you. But..." I hate that word, especially with such heavy tone. "But, this isn't easy for me to say. I want to help you. I want to help you." His last version of this phrase sounds like relief and I feel the same as he says these words.
"Thank you." I can't say anything else. Really, what else can I say?
"Is it ok if I come over tomorrow?" For a moment, my heart soars. The part of me that only wishes for ice cream and sunny days is above the clouds. "Please, Ang. Being close to you right now will be hard for me. I just want to help you, to talk to you about what you want to do."
"Yeah. Ok."
"Ok, see you tomorrow." As I hang up, I suddenly realize that tomorrow is Thanksgiving. I'm sure Bobby is dying to talk to me. I pick up the phone and leave a quick message on his cell phone. I can't go. I just can't. My lungs feel like bursting and my knees are completely weak. I have the need to sleep for days on end. Bobby calls back after a few minutes and understands. His voice is a little disappointed, but he did promise to bring me back some turkey.
Thanksgiving went by quickly. I was terrified of being by myself for the whole weekend to figure out how to fight Trawlen. Kyle came over the next morning. He called his parents and told them he had decided to stay here; that his girlfriend needed help. As he said the word girlfriend, my face lit up and the biggest smile was about to leap across my face. As soon as that smile leapt to my mind, the thought of what he knew shattered my face into shards of regret and guilt. Kyle sensed that I was uncomfortable. True, I do deserve this. Today starts the first day of my punishment. I plunge my thoughts into another random topic, making myself forget our one romantic evening under the stars and his wonderful smile.
The sunset Sunday night was crisp and golden. With Kyle sipping tea beside me, I took out my charcoals and started to draw. Hues of yellow and orange as the sun slipped behind the hills. The way the clouds seemed to shroud the setting sun, as if pulling the covers over its head. My mind was clear, my fingers limber and my heart healthy. Kyle dropped a light kiss onto my shoulder as I finished the sketch. Looking out the window at the now darkened sky, I breathed a sigh of relief. Kyle's eyes had grown softer and more forgiving over the weekend.
Just before I drifted off to dreams, I remembered something my father said once. I was very young and didn't understand his meaning. Whenever something good happens, be sure that something better is happening elsewhere. He said it with a forced smile, which to me at that age was just as good as a real one.