Baumgartner Generations: Henry (21 page)

Henry
stared. He couldn’t breathe. He didn’t know how Dean knew, but he did.

“Listen,
it’s just five-hundred.” Dean’s voice turned friendly again—just a conversation
between amigos. Never mind that Henry had that sick feeling in his gut like
someone had just racked his nuts. “Just ask her. Okay?”

What else
was he supposed to say? “I’ll see what I can do.”

“Thanks.”
Dean leaned forward and clapped Henry on the shoulder. “Really, thanks.”

Henry stood,
leaving the rest of his lunch. “I gotta go.”

*
* * *

Toni’s
apartment was small, but she said she liked it better than the big empty house
she’d lived in with her ex, and he believed her.

“You’ll meet
your soulmate some day,” she whispered to him in the dark. The bed was full and
high—and it squeaked like they were squishing a thousand mice when they fucked.
It made them both laugh so hard they often had to move to the floor to finish.
“I promise, you will.”

Henry knew
it had been a bad idea to tell her that Dean was asking him for money for
gambling debts, and that he just might know what was going on between them—but
he’d had a feeling this was coming anyway. Nothing could burn this hot, this
fast, and last very long. Of course, he hadn’t told her about the game. That
one was like an anvil on his chest, a paralyzing weight.

“What if I
don’t want it to be over?” He spoke the words, but he didn’t know if he meant
them. It had been wrong from the beginning, in all the right sorts of ways, and
this felt the same. Wrong and right—a horribly apt paradox.

“It’s too
dangerous, for both of us.” Toni’s cheek pressed against his back and she
kissed his shoulder blade. “But I’m not abandoning you. We can still work
together.”

“I don’t
know.” Just being in her class for the rest of the year was going to be hard
enough. He couldn’t imagine being in her office four days a week and not being…
with
her.

“Or…” She
sighed. “I can give you a whole list of names. We have great tutors in the
program.”

“I wish I
could.” Henry turned, pulling her into his arms. “But I couldn’t be around you
so much and not want you. I couldn’t resist.”

“I know.”
She tucked her dark head under his chin. “It’s probably better this way.”

“I wish it
wasn’t.” His voice cracked.

“Me, too.”
Her tears fell on his bare chest and they both pretended it wasn’t happening,
wasn’t ending, at least for a while.

*
* * *

“Henry?”

“Libby?” He
recognized her voice immediately. It was the call he’d been waiting for, hoping
for, and now here it was, and he couldn’t believe it. “How was your break?”

“Fine.” But
Libby’s voice was wrong, somehow. Something was wrong. Not that everything
wasn’t already wrong in his life. Between his roommate problem and ending his affair
with Toni, he’d reached the bottom of what could possibly go wrong. Or so he
thought. “I really need to talk to you.”

“Sure.” He
shrugged. “What’s on your mind?”

“Not on the
phone.”

Had Dean
called Libby and told her about Toni? Is that what put such urgency into her
voice? And still, his heart was pounding at the thought of seeing her in
person, no matter what the reason. He glanced at his watch. It was almost
dinner time, but he didn’t have anywhere to go.

“Want to
meet somewhere?”

“How about
The Red Hawk?” she suggested.

“Half an
hour?”

“See you
there.” She hung up.

*
* * *

The Red Hawk
was pretty quiet for a Thursday night. They sat in one of the high-backed
booths, Libby eating the Thai shrimp salad, and Henry was getting messy with
the Red Hawk wings, extra spicy. They made his eyes water and his nose run.

“I bet it
didn’t snow down in North Carolina,” Henry said, making conversation. They’d
had a foot of snow over the break, just in time for Christmas.

“Henry, I
need to talk to you about Dean.”

He paused, a
wing in his hands, then nodded. “Okay.” At least now he knew the topic of
conversation. Maybe she knew Dean was in trouble? Had he gone to her for money,
too?

Just
please don’t let her know about Toni.

“But I have
to tell you first why I was fired from the paper last year.”

He waited,
not understanding what in the world that could have to do with Dean, or
anything having to do with Henry, but he was sure Libby would connect the dots.

“I told you
I did a sort of exposé on fraternity hazing.”

“Right.”
Henry remembered. “Forced drinking and all that.”

She went on.
“Well, the university did an investigation after the article went to print.
They wanted to know my sources.”

“Let me
guess.” Henry licked his fingers. “You wouldn’t tell them.”

“No, I
wouldn’t.” She blinked at him, indignant. “The first amendment still applies,
even at a college paper. We have the same constitutional rights as professional
newspapers. This isn’t high school.”

“Then why
did they fire you?”

Libby fiercely
poked her salad with her fork. “The Board of Regents said that if I didn’t
leave the paper voluntarily, they were going to fire my advisor instead.”

“Jesus.” His
jaw dropped.

She smiled
sadly. “Nice, huh?”

“I’m sorry,
Libby.”

“I’m over
it.” She gestured his apology away, but it was clear to Henry that wasn’t
really true. “Anyway…one of my sources was Dean’s brother, Chris.”

Just when he
thought his jaw couldn’t drop any further. “You’re kidding me.”

“He was a
senior member of the frat and he knew all the ins and outs.” She stabbed at a
shrimp.

“And he
talked to you willingly?” Henry was doubtful. He hadn’t met any of Dean’s
family, but he couldn’t imagine them being much different from Dean. “He knew
he was being interviewed?”

“He was…” Libby
took a sip of her water. “I was dating him.”

Henry sat
back, stunned. And all this time, Dean had never said a word. Chris had
graduated last year. So he was the senior guy she’d been dating, he realized.

“But Chris wasn’t
my source,” she explained. Her salad had suddenly become her focus, as if she
could annihilate it with her gaze. “He’s just how I found out about the
hazing.”

She took a
bite of shrimp, chewing slowly. Henry had lost interest in his wings. He just
stared at her.

“The rumors
were running rampant at the time—stories about tying pledges’ hands behind
their backs and pushing them down the stairs, or leaving them all alone in one
room with a kitten—and no one could come out until the kitten was dead.”

Henry choked
on his Diet Coke. “Jesus!”

“For the
record, I didn’t see anything like that.” She shrugged. “But there was forced
drinking. They’d duct tape them to chairs and put funnels in their mouths. One
kid nearly died from alcohol poisoning.”

“You saw
this for yourself?” Henry had no real love for the frat he’d pledged anymore,
but it was still hard to believe they’d done stuff like that to pledges. “Or
someone told you?”

“I saw it,”
she insisted, glancing up as the waitress went by, picking up Henry’s empty
chili bowl.

“You’re a
girl,” Henry observed. “How did you get in?”

She took
another bite of her salad, chewing slowly. “Because there was also a lot of
sex,” she said finally. “And they hired prostitutes.”

Henry
stared, then he gaped. No way. It wasn’t possible. What was she telling him?

“You
were a…?”

“No!” Her eyes
widened but her face had turned almost as red as her hair. “But I did sign up
with the escort service they were rumored to use. And I was there on the last
night of Hell Week. That’s when they ‘reward’ the pledges for making it
through.”

“They were
rewarded with prostitutes?” He remembered his own ‘reward’ night well
enough—although he clearly hadn’t had to go through what many of the previous
year’s pledges did.

“You
pledged.” Libby gazed coolly at him. “Didn’t you get laid out of the deal?”

He cleared
his throat. “They did something different this year. Sort of.”

“Really?”
Her red eyebrows arched. “What?”

“I’d rather
not say,” he mumbled, taking a drink of his soda.

“I don’t
blame you.”

He decided
to change the subject, although now all he could think of was that night with
Val. Had Libby done something like that? “So you didn’t…did you actually
participate?”

“No,” Libby
denied, but her face was turning even redder. “I mean, I danced and…stuff. But
I didn’t sleep with anybody.”

“Chris must
have known you weren’t a prostitute.”

“Chris
wasn’t there that night. I made sure of that,” she said firmly. Her gaze
dropped to the table. “But he found out anyway.”

“How?”

Libby closed
her eyes and then lifted her gaze to him. She almost looked like she was going to
cry. “Because they videotaped all of it.”

“Oh my god,”
he whispered.

“Yeah.” She
blinked, glancing toward the door where a couple was coming in to eat. Henry
wanted to reach out and touch her, reassure her, but he didn’t know what to
say. Then she turned her attention back to him. “Henry, I like you.”

The words
made his pulse race.

“And I think
you like me.”

If you
only knew how much
, he thought. He was still at a loss for words.

“And I’m
sorry I…” She studied her hands. The fork was on the table now and they were
clasped in front of her. “I know you thought I was ignoring you, but you don’t
understand.”

When her
gaze lifted to his again, her eyes were wet. “If that tape ever got out, and
you and I were dating, do you know how long it would be before you’d ever play
hockey again? You could easily lose your scholarship.”

He stared
into her pretty face and things fell into place. It all made sense now. He’d
made up all sorts of reasons and rationalizations in his head, but it didn’t
have anything to do with Elaine. Libby had been protecting him.
Who has the
tape?
he wondered. But in his gut, he knew.

“Dean found
out I was still investigating Alpha Pi Alpha and he told me he’d release it if
I got involved with you,” Libby went on, her words choked.

Henry frowned.
“When did he say this?”

“Not long
after…” Her eyes skipped away from his. “After that night in the hot tub.”

“Unreal.”

Libby’s
lower lip trembled. “He said he’d mail it to the NCAA with an anonymous note.
Henry, just one whiff of a player dating an alleged prostitute would put your
scholarship in jeopardy. Even if I’d been vindicated—and who knows? I signed up
as an escort of my own volition, even if I was a reporter—you wouldn’t have
played hockey for a long time.”

Her
confession left him speechless. If his roommate had magically appeared in front
of him, he would have killed him with his bare hands.

“What in the
hell is wrong with him?” he croaked. “Why would he do that?”

“Your
fraternity happens to have the largest betting ring on campus running through
their house. That was going to be my follow-up story last year, before I got
fired. Dean found out that I was still looking into it this year, even though I
wasn’t on the paper anymore, and he didn’t want that to happen. He wanted
something to hold over my head, so I wouldn’t tell anyone.”

“Because
Dean’s gambling.” That much Henry knew. “He keeps borrowing money from me.”

Libby made a
face. “How much?”

“Five
hundred.” That didn’t include the five-hundred Dean wanted him to borrow from
Toni—that he’d been willing to blackmail his own roommate to get his hands on.

Libby
sighed. “He’s in for a lot more than that.”

“He’s sick.”
Henry felt helpess. What could they do? They had to do something. And he hadn’t
even told Libby about Dean’s plans to throw the game!

“You have no
idea.” Libby looked down at her hands again. “Henry, Dean raped Elaine. That
night in the hot tub, after I left…?” Her voice dipped low, became choked. “I
never should have left…”

“Oh my god.”
It took Henry a few seconds to make his frozen limbs move, but then he was over
on her side of the booth, putting his arms around her. “I’m so sorry, Libby.”

“She told me
last night.” Libby buried her face in Henry’s neck. “I tried to get her to
report it, but she won’t.”

Henry’s jaw
clenched. “I’m gonna kill him.”

“No,” she said
vehemently, gripping his arm. “Don’t do it. He’s not worth it. I want you to
stay away from him if you can. Ask housing if you can switch rooms. Just…don’t
have anything more to do with him. That’s the best we can do.”

“But he’s
going to throw the game,” Henry confessed. He’d been sitting with the
knowledge, unsure what to do, who to tell, but it seemed natural to share it
with her now. “This weekend against Eastern Michigan. He’s got it all set up.
It’s as good as done.”

“Oh no!” Libby
pulled back, staring at him, this new information making her eyes widen. “We
can’t let that happen.”

Henry dug
into his pocket, finding his ringing cell, and saw the number. Val
. Not now.
He let it go to message.

“Henry!”
Libby grabbed his forearm. His phone made a sound, letting him know he had a
message. “If he succeeds, it isn’t just his life he’s ruining. We’re talking
about coaches and players and other people’s lives.”

“Yeah.” He
was well aware of the consequences, but how could he tell someone when he didn’t
have proof? And the backlash, if Dean found out he’d betrayed him…Henry didn’t
want to think about it. “I know.”

His phone rang.
Again. It was Val. Again. He flipped it open. “Hello?”

Val was
talking so fast and so soft he could barely understand her. “Slow down,” he
urged. “Say it again.”