Authors: John R. Little and Mark Allan Gunnells
“But what?”
“As someone who has been published in a few very prestigious poetry publications, I just wanted to give you a little advice. Rhyming poems are from the Dark Ages. Free verse is where it’s at these days. Everything else sounds like Dr. Seuss.”
Karen shrugged. “I like poems that rhyme.”
“That’s all well and good, but if you want your work taken seriously, you should listen to me.”
Before Karen could formulate a response to this, Jacoby spoke up. “I think the most important thing about a poem is its emotion, what it makes you feel. The form is rather inconsequential next to that.”
Purple Scarf smirked. “Form is
everything
.”
“The people seemed to like it,” Karen said rather timidly. She wasn’t a fan of confrontation, even when she knew she was being insulted.
“Well, I don’t concern myself with what the people like. People like
Dancing with the Stars
.”
“So you don’t care about your work being popular?” Jacoby asked.
“Not at all.”
“I’m so glad, because I was worried you’d be upset that no one liked your poem.”
This elicited a bark of a laugh from Karen, and Purple Scarf looked stunned, but Jacoby smiled bright as ever, and Karen mused that the young man truly had not meant what he said as an insult but out of honest concern. And the purity of the remark, Karen suspected, made it sting all the more.
“Let’s go,” she muttered, taking Jacoby’s hand and dragging him into the café, then out the door.
“I can’t believe you said that,” she said as they emerged onto the street.
“Said what?”
She stared at him for a moment then patted him on the cheek. “Don’t ever change, Jacoby.”
“Okay, I won’t.”
Karen turned her attention to the sidewalk, scanning the passersby.
“Still no sign of Bobby?”
“He was in the theater when I read my poem; I saw him in the back. I’m not sure where he got to after. I don’t know why he wouldn’t hang around.”
Jacoby scanned the street, then he pointed up the block. “Is that him?”
She followed his finger and saw Bobby standing a few feet away, inside the alcove for a Thai restaurant. Without a word, she headed that way, Jacoby tagging along behind her.
“Hi, Karen,” Bobby said as she approached, ducking his head like a child who has done something wrong and is expecting punishment.
“What’s going on, Bobby? I didn’t see any sign of you in the theater until I got up to read my poem.”
“You know I’m not a fan of crowds. I decided to hang back. But I made sure you saw me when it was time for you to perform.”
“What about after? Why did you bail?”
He glanced over at Jacoby, his lips twisted down at the corners. “Well, you weren’t alone.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. I haven’t even introduced you two. Bobby, this is Jacoby.”
“Nice to meet you,” Jacoby said, and though his voice was pleasant enough, Karen noted that he did not offer his hand.
Bobby eyed the other young man almost suspiciously. “You...you’re friends with Karen?”
“We met on campus the other day. She’s a terrific person.”
“Yes, I know.”
It was strange for Karen to be standing here, listening to two young men talking about her as if she weren’t present. Yet in a strange way she also found it oddly exhilarating. She briefly considered letting it go on for a while longer but decided against it.
“I am glad you came, Bobby,” she said. “It was great having two friends out in the audience. A comfort, really.”
“You looked wonderful up there, and I loved your poem.”
“Thanks. I’m glad I caught up with you.”
“I was waiting on you, actually. I thought I’d walk you back to your car.”
“That would be nice.” She was thinking about her last trip to Coffee Underground, and the coven members that had accosted her in almost this exact spot. It would be nice to have some company if they tried anything like that again. But that wasn’t the only reason.
“We can both walk her,” Jacoby said, and Karen started, having forgotten for a second that he was there.
“That’s okay, Jacoby. If you have somewhere else you need to be, I’ll understand.”
“I don’t have anywhere else to be.”
She looked at Jacoby for a moment, then at Bobby, before turning her gaze back to Jacoby. If Brittany had been right, and tonight was just about Karen reaching a decision....
Well, she was grateful that Jacoby had come and she appreciated his support, but the nearly paralyzing disappointment she’d felt when she’d thought Bobby wasn’t going to show and then the blissful relief when she’d spotted him in the theater...that told her all she needed to know.
“I kind of have something private to discuss with Bobby,” she said, not wanting to hurt Jacoby’s feelings. She still liked him a lot and wanted to remain friends if possible. “Let’s meet soon for a tea.”
Jacoby didn’t respond right away, just stared at her with eyes wide and wet. His lower lip seemed to tremble, and she felt like a total shit. Finally he forced a semi-convincing smile and said, “I understand. Maybe I’ll see you around campus.”
“Jacoby, listen, I—”
“It was really fun, and I’ll catch you soon. I want you to be very careful.” He said this last to Karen, but was looking directly at Bobby. Then he bolted down the street in the other direction.
Karen stared until she lost sight of him, then behind her she heard Bobby say, “Shall we go?”
The two started off toward Springwood Cemetery, near which Karen had parked. It was usually easier to find a spot around the cemetery as opposed to the heart of downtown; it was a couple blocks further, but she certainly didn’t mind that.
They walked in silence at first. Karen wanted to reach out and take his hand, but he kept his hands in his pockets. She couldn’t help but wonder if this was an intentional strategy, and her mind kept turning to his odd comments about “not being like other guys.” Yet she didn’t think she’d imagined that Bobby and Jacoby had been vying for her, and she also thought it was clear that she’d made a choice. So why was he now being Mr. Hands-in-His-Pockets.
“So this Jacoby character...,” he said suddenly.
“He’s just a friend.”
“Have you guys ever talked about me?”
Karen paused before answering. She wondered if she should mention that Jacoby knew Bobby’s mother. Considering that the young man’s opinion of her was less than flattering, she figured it might be a good idea not to bring it up.
“Well, I did tell him about you.”
“What did you say?”
“Just that you were a good friend of mine that I valued a great deal.”
Bobby nodded and walked with his head down. His expression was forlorn, and it looked to Karen as if he were near tears.
“Jacoby and I are just friends,” she said. “Nothing more.”
He didn’t say anything for a few moments, and when he did speak it was to change the subject. “I liked your poem.”
“Thanks. I don’t think I’d have been able to read it if you hadn’t been out there.”
They were approaching the entrance to Springwood and Bobby suddenly stopped, staring into the darkness beyond the pillars. “Have you ever been in there?”
“The cemetery? I’ve walked through a few times.”
“I love graveyards. I find them rather...peaceful. Guess that sounds pretty morbid, huh?”
“Not at all. I get it.”
Bobby looked at her, their eyes locking, and Karen felt a not-unpleasant fluttering in her stomach and a tingling in her skin like she’d felt after reading her poem to an approving audience.
This is it
, she thought.
He’s going to lean in and kiss me.
Only he didn’t. Instead he motioned with his head toward the cemetery and said, “Want to go exploring?”
“You mean
now
?”
“Sure, why not?”
“Well, I don’t think you’re supposed to be in there after dark.”
“You’re not going to let that stop you, are you?”
“Seriously, there are no lights in there. We wouldn’t be able to see our hands in front of our faces.”
“Come on, don’t you want a little adventure,” he said with a half smile, then turned and walked into the cemetery.
Karen remained rooted on the sidewalk, looking in after him. After only a few steps, he was swallowed by shadows. She glanced around, but there was no one nearby. What should she do? She knew it was stupid to follow a man into a dark, abandoned place...but this was Bobby. Shy, sweet-natured Bobby.
But how well did she really know him? She remembered Jacoby suggesting that Bobby might be dangerous. Why would he entice her into a graveyard at night unless he wanted to do something there away from prying eyes?
The question was, did Karen want the same thing? The idea of feeling Bobby’s arms around her and his lips pressed against hers sent a thrill through her body. She wasn’t planning to wait until her wedding night to lose her virginity, and she would be lying if she didn’t admit she’d had erotic thoughts about Bobby....
...but doing it in a cemetery after hours wasn’t exactly her idea of a romantic first time.
“Come on out,” she said with a laugh.
“Come get me.” His voice drifted to her on the breeze, soft and teasing.
Karen shifted from foot to foot. There was something unsettling about this turn of events, and yet something strangely titillating as well.
Maybe the good-girl act was getting a little stale and it was time to loosen up a bit. Not to the degree Brittany had, but perhaps Bobby was right and it was time for a little adventure.
Opening her purse, she rummaged past the condoms Brittany had given her and made sure her rape whistle and pepper spray were handy. Adventure was fine, but she was no fool. She walked past the pillars into the cemetery, squinting against the blackness, waiting for her eyes to adjust. The monuments and statuary started to take form, seeming to glow with a pale light. Ahead she thought she detected movement along the paved pathway, penetrating deeper into the graveyard.
“Bobby, where are you going?”
His voice came back, thin and breathy but perfectly audible. “You have to see this.”
Glancing back at the street, she followed Bobby.
The cemetery was surprisingly large considering its downtown location. She walked down the one path, ignoring those that branched from it, for what seemed miles but was probably only a dozen feet. She found Bobby standing in front of a life-sized angel monument on a large marble base, arms outstretched toward the sky like a child wanting a parent to pick her up.
“What are we doing here?” she asked.
Bobby didn’t answer right away, and though he was swaddled in purple-black blankets of night, she thought she detected something about his expression that made her back up a couple of steps. When he finally spoke, his voice was gravely and shaky with unshed tears. “You know I told you I wasn’t like other guys...well, I want to be. And I think maybe you could help me.”
Karen wasn’t sure what he meant by this. Was Bobby gay but convinced that a romp with a girl might “cure” him? Or was he having impotency problems that he thought she might be able to help him overcome? She opened her mouth, not entirely sure of what she was going to say, but she never got the chance to say anything.
He came from behind, swift and silent. And smart. First thing he did was snatch her purse. The shoulder strap got caught on her bracelet, the one Penelope had given her, and ripped it off. He tossed the purse and the bracelet deeper into the graveyard. Before Karen even had time to properly process what had happened, he clamped a hand tight over her mouth and used a foot to sweep her off her feet. She fell onto her back, landing hard and knocking her head against the ground, and he was on top of her, crushing her with his weight, the hand clamped over her mouth never moving or lessening its pressure.
It was too dark to make out her assailant’s face, but when he hissed, “Just be still, bitch. I’ve seen the way you look at me, I know you want it,” she recognized the voice.
Derek, Brittany’s boyfriend.
This didn’t make any sense. Derek had seemed like a decent enough guy, certainly not the type to do something like this. Was this a prank, perhaps orchestrated by Brittany
—
Such thoughts evaporated when he took hold of her blouse with his free hand and yanked until it ripped, exposing her bra. She screamed into his palm, but the sound was muffled and would not carry to the street. And with it being so dark and them being so deep into the cemetery, no one would see.
She tried to push him off her, but he was too heavy. Her arms were pinned beneath his weight, so she tried kicking him but to no avail. Her eyes darted around, looking for Bobby. Where had he gone? Why wasn’t he trying to get Derek off her? Had he run off to get help?
Or was he just standing somewhere in the shadows watching all this?
She hated to think that, but the truth was he was the one who had brought her into the cemetery, to the angel monument where Derek had apparently been lying in wait. Was it really too much of a stretch to think that Bobby and Derek had plotted this together? Maybe Bobby was just waiting for his turn.