Page 36

I t seems suspicious that a few minutes after I call Luke, there’s a knock on my dorm room door. I open it to find Mike, standing in the hallway with one arm crossed over his chest, checking his cell phone .

“Hi,” I say, resisting the urge to slam it shut again. I am, after all, a student here, and he is campus security. His involvement with Professor Boyd and Kappa Omega might be sketchy, or he might be totally above- board .

And no matter what, I should stay on Mike’s good side. I’m not Luke. I need to stay out of trouble, so I can get a real job .

That thought makes me feel sick for Luke. There’s no way out of hunting for him, really, not with a criminal record. He doesn’t even have the choice that I do about how involved to be in the spirit world. What does someone do with a record, how do they ever start over? He’s only eighteen .

Mike slips his cell phone back into his pocket. “Ash, do you have a minute ?”

“Sure.” I wonder where Professor Boyd is, but at least it’s easier to lie to only one person at a time .

“I wanted to talk to you about Luke again .”

“Okay, but I don’t know anything more than I did before .”

“Well, I do,” he says shortly. “Has he contacted you since ?”

I stare back at him blankly .

“I’ll take that as a yes.” He sighs. “I’m trying to help you. This guy is bad news; you need to listen .”

“I’m listening,” I tell him. I’m just not convinced. It seems like people who are older, or male, think I have to take their word as gospel, the moment they speak. Maybe they should work for it. Maybe just because I’m a girl, doesn’t make me a passive instrument for whatever someone thinks I should believe .

“You’re not listening.” He sounds exasperated. “Can I come in ?”

I step back, once again propping the door open. It’s 8:30 am and the hall is busy, which is a comfort. “I have to get to class soon,” I tell him, even though I was actually on my way to see Luke .

But now I don’t know if I should go to Luke. Maybe I’m being followed. Maybe my phone is bugged .

Maybe I’m the worst danger to Luke right now .

“Sure.” He walks around my room again, sauntering in a circle of my possessions, as I stand there near the doorway. I idly fantasize about running out the door and down the hall while he’s still studying my cross-country photos .

But I have to come back here. I’m not rolling on to a new town once the poltergeist is dispatched, like Luke and Mave. I have to play the game differently .

The minutes tick by, and he still seems really interested in my band posters, but I’m not going to be the one to break the silence .

Finally, he turns to me, reaching into the inside of his gray jacket which hangs open over his uniform, and I tense. He freezes, and then, putting one hand out as if to pacify me, draws two folded pieces of paper out of the inside pocket .

“Luke’s wanted for questioning in this case,” he says. “And he’s wanted for questioning for a fellow student who disappeared last night, Anthony Rogers. Do you know anything about that ?”

I don’t answer, but I take the sheets of paper from him .

“I shouldn’t be telling you about this, since it’s a case under investigation,” he says. “But I want you to know what you’re mixed up with. I don’t want to see you get hurt .”

Yeah, I really get that vibe of deep concern for my personal welfare .

He’s handed me an incident report from the Massachusetts state police. On the second page is a sketch that’s more-or-less Luke’s face, though his nose looks slightly bent to the left, and his eyes are closer set. They haven’t captured Luke’s gorgeousness in grayscale, that’s for sure. I flip the pages again to look at the incident report, but it’s hard for me to concentrate enough to read the small print. Mike stares at me like he wants to eat me .

“What’s this about?” I ask .

“Your friend, Luke,” he says .

“No shit.” I immediately regret it, but I’m starting to lose it with this guy. My adrenaline is rising as I feel trapped here, and so is a shaky sense of anger. I don’t want to have this conversation .

“You want me to read it to you?” he asks, his voice dismissive. “Didn’t you take the SATs ?”

I hold the page up to my face, blocking him from view. He can go study the traffic sign that he likes so much .

On October 8 th at 10:27am, responded to a call at 855 Rocky Brook Way from Mary Lords (18 year old female). She was alone in the house and distraught. Contacted her parents (at her request) and medical assistance. She stated that she had spent the previous evening drinking and watching a film with a man (identified as Lukas Chamberlain, also 18yo) and then had experienced usual symptoms including unresponsive muscles, extreme sleepiness and finally unconsciousness that were not consistent with the amount of alcohol consumed (2 Bud Lites). Her last recollection was of a second man, unidentified, entering the living room; she had not invited him into the home. She woke up alone around 9:30 am feeling groggy and was convinced that she had been drugged the previous night. Her parents were away for the weekend and are returning now. I left her with the ambulance crew but assured her that I or another officer would follow up. She was referred to the Sentara Emergency Room for treatment .

I stare at the page for long seconds. This is not my Luke; it must be a trick. But why? Why would Professor Boyd and Mike The Security Guard want to trick me ?

Am I just being an idiot about a boy ?

“I get it,” he says. “You don’t trust authority. I get why you’re drawn to a guy like that. Let me tell you a story .”

“Do I have a choice ?”

“No. Sit down .”

Reluctantly, I sit across from him .

“I know,” he says. “I’m just some old asshole who doesn’t get it. That there’s something I’m missing here. Right? He’s a good guy. It doesn’t matter what’s on these pages. It doesn’t matter what some other girl says he did. You know the real Luke .”

I stare back at him silently .

“When I was fourteen,” he says, “my big sister got involved with this guy. A real cool guy, actually. Drove a motorcycle, lifted weights. Funny guy. Fun to talk to. I liked him a lot .”

“Kate was eighteen. Too old for that whole protective-brother nonsense, you know? I was just the little brother. But, as time went by, I could see her changing because of him. Getting isolated from her friends. Getting a little… lost. She was a really bright girl, really pretty. But she started dressing differently, the way he wanted her to dress. She dyed her hair .”

I tuck my hair back behind my ears. It isn’t what you think it is, dude, I promise .

“Most of all, as time wore on she changed for him. She started shining a little less brightly. I didn’t hear the things he said to her, but I could tell, you know? Things were changing. And after a while, I knew it was him .”

“So what happened?” I ask. “Did you kill him? Beat him up ?”

He looks at me as if I’m crazy, which is probably true. I broke my own no-talk- first rule .

“No. I told her that I would always be there for her. But she married him anyway, and I haven’t seen her for twelve years.” He rubs his hand over his shaven chin, sighs. “I miss her. We weren’t close, but still, she was my sister, and I don’t know how she’s doing .”

“You’re a cop. You couldn’t do anything more?” If he couldn’t do anything in a bad situation, it sure seems hopeless for the rest of us .

“She’s part of why I went into law enforcement. I just have a bad feeling…” He glances down at the floor. “Ashley, I didn’t take this job because hassling drunken frat boys is my favorite thing in the world. I want to make sure kids like you, like Kate, are safe. There’s not a lot I can do towards that end. But…I’m trying .”

There’s a long silence .

“I hope you get to talk to your sister again,” I say .

“I hope so too.” He takes a card out of his breast pocket. He stands up and then hesitates, looking at the post-it notes strung up along my desk, before he sets it down alongside my laptop. “Well… I can’t make you talk to me. But I’m here. If you need me .”

“Thank you,” I say automatically .

He leaves me with a sense of restlessness, in my little cinder-block dorm room that should feel so cozy. I go to the window to watch him exit from the front door, suspicious that he might be following me. The rain begins to fall from the sky, slow constant splotches streaking the window .