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Authors: Audrey Bell

Love Show (21 page)

BOOK: Love Show
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“What happened?” one of them asked
Jack.

Jack looked at David. “He’ll tell
you,” he said calmly, confidently.

 “My ex-boyfriend assaulted me,” David
said simply. Saying it aloud changed him. He spoke more forcefully about things
that I hadn’t known about. He spoke about harassing phone calls and controlling
behavior.

 “Was this the first time it
happened?” one of the officer asked.

David shook his head. “No,” he
whispered. “I thought he was going to kill me this time. I couldn’t breathe.”

The police officer made a clucking
noise with his tongue against the top of his mouth. “Okay. What’s his name?”

“Ben Mitchell,” David said softly.

The police wrote down his name and
pulled Jack aside, who had held himself together to ask him more questions. “I
was supposed to see Justin,” David told me.

“Let me call him.”             

“I don’t want him to see me like
this.”

I laced my fingers through his.
“He’d want to be here. But, he should at least know, don’t you think?”

He nodded. “Yeah. Okay.”

I stepped away, far enough so that
he couldn’t hear me calling Justin, but close enough for me to keep an eye on
him while the paramedics checked his eyes and the marks on his neck.

Justin picked up the phone and his
brief panic settled into deliberate calm when I told him they were taking David
to the hospital.

“He’ll be okay,” Justin said. “Let
me know when he’s ready for visitors and I’ll be the first one there. Can he
talk?”

I looked at David, who was still
basically incoherent. No. He definitely wouldn’t want to talk to Justin right
now. “Not now. But he will tomorrow. He wanted you to know that he wasn’t
blowing you off.”

“Tell him not to worry for a second
about that,” Justin said. “Call me as soon as he wants to see me, okay?”

“Okay. Yeah. I will,” I nodded,
wishing I could be so calm.
David is fine,
I reminded myself.
He’s
hurt. But he’s fine.

When Jack came back into the room,
he took one look at me and walked over. He wrapped an arm around my shoulders,
a simple gesture, and I leaned against him, and he held me.

                                             

On the day after Valentine’s Day, Jack snuck popcorn, Jack
Daniels, Justin Shelter, and me into David’s small hospital room by flirting
shamelessly with a nurse.

“Hadley’s boyfriend could charm his
way into Fort Knox,” Justin told David. He sat down on David’s bed. He settled
down next to David, and after a moment, I saw him lean forward and kiss David’s
forehead and whisper: “I’m going to murder him.”

David laughed hollowly. “I’m tired
of all the death threats.”

“I’m sorry,” Justin said. “I’m
going to wage a very effective letter-writing campaign.”

We turned on
You’ve Got Mail.
Jack
and I watched part of the movie, and then decided to give Justin and David
their privacy, walking out into the waiting room to sit on cheap plastic chairs
and thumb through old magazines

I thumbed through a wedding issue
for a reality star.  “God, this magazine is ancient,” I said. “These people are
divorced now.”

“It’s newer than you’d think,” Jack
said, checking the cover. “Yeah. Four months old.”

“Seriously? Four months? They were
married for four months?”

He smiled.

“You know, you can probably go,” I
offered.

“I want to see what happens to the
bookstore,” Jack insisted. “I think Meg Ryan is going to sue Tom Hanks or else
kill him.”

“It’s a romantic comedy, not Law
& Order.”

Jack raised his eyebrows. “Well,
they better have paused it. Because I bet anything that Meg Ryan ends up
killing Tom Hanks. Down with capitalism and all that. Occupy Wall Street.
Occupy Fox Books. Or maybe it’ll turn out to be some kind of Madoff thing.”

“A book Ponzi scheme? That’s not
possible.”

Jack smiled at me. “No, but it
could definitely be the plot of the movie.” He looked over his shoulder at
Justin’s hospital room. “Do you think I should go ask them to pause it?”

“I don’t think you want to disturb
them,” I said. “They’re probably making out.”

“Well, I should definitely disturb
them. Justin shouldn’t take advantage of David. He’s highly medicated and I
think I also got him drunk. Plus, I want to see the end of the movie.”

I rolled my eyes and he kissed me
suddenly.

“What was that for?”

“I like you,” he said, grinning.

I grinned. I bit my thumbnail,
tried not to blush, and focused on the hideous bridesmaids’ dresses.
I like
you
too
. I didn’t say it, because then I would have exploded with
embarrassment. But I’m pretty sure he knew that anyways.

“Thank you for…knowing what to do,”
I said.

“Oh, come on, surely you went to
the seminar on 911 in Kindergarten,” he said. “Even I didn’t skip that class.”

“You know what I mean.”

He leaned his head against mine.
“You still don’t want to date me, huh?”

I was quiet. “I just want to be
like this.”

“Okay.” He smiled. “We can be like
this. What do you want to call it?”

I rolled my eyes. “Life.”

“We’re lifing?”

“Or, you know, living.”

He cocked his head like he was
thinking about it. “Right. Let’s pretend I never said that.”

I nodded. “Deal.”

 

Justin brought David home from the hospital late that night.

 “Hey,” I said, when Justin opened
the door.

“You know I can walk, right?” David
asked dryly. Justin had his arm tight around David’s shoulders, like he could
hardly support his own legs. David grinned at him briefly.

“Get over here,” David said to me.
He wrapped me in a tight hug.

“I’m so sorry,” I said.

“Hey. It’s not your fault. He’s a
bastard,” David continued. “And I should have listened to you.”

“Oh, David, I don’t care—”

“No, I should have listened to
you.”

“He’s going to press charges,”
Justin added.

“Good,” I said fiercely.

David smiled weakly.

“Are you okay?”

“Of course,” David said. He smiled
bravely. “I knew Jack was good to have around. I’m glad you’re back together.”

 “We never were together,” I said.
“But we’re back on. Whatever that means.”

He rolled his eyes. “Okay, Hadley.”

“What?”

“You like him,” David said.

“Shut up.”

Chapter Thirty-Three

My mother sent me a beautiful dress and a pair of shoes that
would only make sense to wear to a ball for Jack’s formal.

The dress was light blue, with a
white silk tie at the waist. It fell just above my knee.

“I’m nervous,” I told Jack when I
got into his car.

He blinked.

“Is there anything I need to know?”
I asked.

He blinked again.

I waved my hand in front of his
face. “Hello? Earth to Jack.”

“You look really, really pretty,”
he said.

“Thank you,” I said. “What do I
need to know?”

He laughed. “Mom is Julie, brother
is Alex.” He cocked his head. “Riley’s coming. You can call him…”

“Professor?”

He smiled. “Sure.” He looked me
over again.

“What?”

“You look really goddamn pretty,”
he said. He smiled and drove to the frat house. “I told them you were my
girlfriend, by the way. I didn’t think you’d want me explaining the details to
my mother and Riley.”

We walked from the car to the
fraternity house. I leaned against him slightly in the cold and he laughed as
we reached the door. “You’re not going to recognize it.”

He was right. I didn’t recognize
it.

The floors sparkled, the music was
playing at a pleasant volume, and people were drinking from real glasses.

“We rented the glasses,” Jack said,
looking at the expression on my face.

“Ah,” I said.

Riley looked out of place, in a
tweed jacket, leaning against a wall and chatting with a pretty dark-haired
woman who smiled just like Jack.

I swallowed nervously.

“Say hi, get a glass of wine,
repeat. All night,” Jack whispered as we approached them. “It’s like a game.”

“You must be Hadley,” his mother
said, turning. She offered a hand. “I’m Julie Diamond. It is
so
nice to
meet you.”

“And this is Alex,” Jack said.

Alex shook my hand. “So, you’re the
girl my brother flew us out here to meet.”

“I don’t know about that.”

Alex chuckled knowingly.

“Alex, shut up,” Jack said.

“Do you know Robert Riley?” his
mother asked.

“I do, actually,” I said and
smiled. “I’m in his combat journalism class.”

Riley nodded and gave me a friendly
smile. “I’ll have to pretend I don’t know you on Monday.”

I grinned. “I’m used to that.”

“We’re going to get wine,” Jack
said. “I promised her there would be wine.”

I followed him. “Am I doing that
badly?” I asked.

He laughed. “No. I just can tell
they’re kind of salivating that I seem to have a girlfriend.” He smiled. “I
don’t want them to get the idea that I’m some kind of responsible and mature adult.”

I nodded. “Ah.”

He grabbed two glasses. “Thanks for
doing this. My mom’s been dying to come to one and…anyways, I appreciate it.”

I smiled. “Yeah.”

“Does Riley know you’re going to
Syria?” he asked.

I nodded.                            

He took a sip of his wine.

“He put me in touch with the editor
actually,” I said.

Jack stopped lifting the glass to
his lips. “What?”

I nodded. “Yeah.”

“Christ,” Jack said. He looked over
at Riley. It clearly bothered him. He took a long sip of the wine and whistled.
“Wow.”

“What?” I asked.

“Nothing.” He cleared his throat.
“I need to find Xander. Figure out where we’re supposed to sit.”

I watched him go, confused, and
sipped my wine slowly, wondering how long he'd be. I'd finished half my glass
before I gave up waiting and went back over to his brother and mother, who he'd
neglected in a corner.

“Where’s Jack?”

“He went to go find Xander, I
think,” I said.

“Oh,” she nodded and smiled.

"So, you're a doctor, right?"
I asked Alex.

"I am."

I nodded. "How did you like
medical school?"

He smiled. "Better than the
Naval Academy." He chuckled. "No, I liked it."

Jack wandered back, with a goofy
smile. "Hey. Sorry."

He looked drunk.

I smiled awkwardly.

"Where's Riley?"

"Getting a drink."

Jack nodded.

"So, how'd you two meet?"
Alex asked.

"It's a really good story,
actual—” Jack started.

“We met at a tailgate," I
interrupted, blushing preemptively.

"Right," Jack said.

Alex smiled at Jack and then at me.
“You had no idea what you were getting into, huh?”

"None," Jack said.
"Oh. Were you talking to her? Trust me. She's crazier than she
looks."

Alex smiled. "Okay,
then."

Jack started to say something else.
 Xander, however, rapped his fork against a glass to make an announcement.
"Everyone, thanks for coming. I've been told dinner is ready so if you'd
make your way to your tables, that would be great."

"We're table thirteen,"
Jack said. "Which is appropriate. Terrible luck.”

"I'll tell Bobby," Alex
said.

We found our table and I whispered
in Jack's ear. "You okay?"

"Yeah. I'm great," he
said, pulling out my chair. "Why wouldn't I be?"

“Nothing,” I said.

“So, Hadley, how do you feel about
Jack not having a job?” Alex asked.

“Lay off,” Jack said.

Alex laughed. “Oh, come on. I’ve
been in Afghanistan. I’m allowed to give you a hard time.”

Julie cleared her throat and peered
at me. “You’re one of Bob’s students?”

“Yes, I am.”

“So, you’re interested in
journalism?”

I nodded.

"Jack's father was a
journalist."

I found that shocking. I looked at
Jack. "I didn't know that."

"You didn't tell her?"
his mother asked.

Jack was watching his mother. He
smiled at her regretfully. He rubbed his chin and said softly. "C'mon,
Mom."

Julie looked at me and then at
Jack. "What paper did he write for?" I asked.

"
New York Times
,"
Alex answered.

"That's where I’m working next
year," I said. I looked at Jack, genuinely shocked.

Jack cleared his throat.
"Anyways, they just did a Valentine's Day issue for the university
paper."

"I saw that," Riley said.

Jack grinned. "Yeah. Hadley
almost had a heart attack over it. What did you think?"

"Gimmicky."

I smiled. I would've agreed, if I
hadn't been thinking about Jack's father. I was mystified. How could he not
mention that to a girl obsessed with working at
The New York Times
?

"What are you interested in
covering?" Alex asked me. He looked quite serious.

Jack exhaled heavily. "Come
on, Alex. Leave her alone.”

"I'm going to be working with
their Middle Eastern conflict team," I said. I reached for my wine and
swirled it. "They said I would probably be based in Syria at first.”

"Are you kidding?" Alex
asked aggressively. “Jack, are you serious?”

“Are you talking to me or
Jack?" I asked. I cleared my throat. "Am I missing something here?
I’m not kidding about anything.”

Jack studied his water glass like
it was the world’s most fascinating object. Julie watched me, and I glanced at
her briefly before looking away. Her eyes were the same color as Jack's and
contained the same edge of loss Jack’s sometimes held.

“Syria?” Julie asked, her voice
straining. “What do your parents think about that?”

Jack made a strangled noise in the
back of his throat. "Mom. Let her be.”

"It's fine," I said.
"They're not thrilled, but they get it." I shrugged. "I speak
Arabic. It’s what I want to do.”

"Do you have any idea how
dangerous that is?" Alex asked.

I cocked my head. "Aren't you
a trauma surgeon in Afghanistan?" I asked.

"It's different. I don't have
an angle."

"Alex, for Christ's
sake," Jack said. "Would you please drop it?"

I shrugged. “I think it’s important
to show what’s happening. Journalism is about telling the truth, and people
here can help. They can’t help if they don’t know about what’s going on. But if
they know, they can help.”

I met Professor Riley’s eyes and he
nodded subtly at me, but didn’t chime in.

"If you want to help, you
should enlist,” Alex said.

“Don’t tell my girlfriend to
enlist,” Jack said angrily.

I wasn't sure who to argue with,
Jack or Alex.

“Why not? She’d be safer in the
army as she’d be in a Jeep with a bunch of cameramen,” Alex said.

“Well, it’s not your concern,” Jack
snapped.

“If you care about her, it’s my
concern,” Alex responded. “Riley can tell you how dangerous it is.”

“Sure,” Riley said calmly. “But she
knows.”

“You don’t really know,” Alex said
to me. “You have no idea. How could you know?”

“Lay off,” Jack snapped. "It
doesn't affect you."

Alex turned and looked at Jack. “It
does affect me. The last time someone you loved got killed taking pictures in
the Middle East, I was the one picking up what was left of you. In case you forgot,
you didn't take it too well."

Jack pushed back his chair and got
to his feet. “Yeah? Well,
fuck
you, Alex.”

I moved to get to my feet, as
several of the other families whipped their heads around to see, but Professor
Riley beat me to it, grabbing Jack by the upper arm. He tugged him once,
gently.

"Jack, come on," Riley
said, gruffly. "Let's go for a walk." He shoved him gently towards
the door and Jack turned, fists clenched, shoulders up by his elbows. But he
walked with Riley. Alex exhaled in his seat.

"Alex, you shouldn't
antagonize him," Julie said.

"I wasn't."

Julie sighed heavily. "You—”

“I need the restroom,” Alex said
brusquely, stalking off in the opposite direction, leaving me alone with his
mother.

I sipped my water, just so I'd have
something to do with my hands which were shaking.

"I'm sorry," I said, when
there was nothing left but ice in my glass and I had to confront the fact that
I had somehow ruined the first family dinner they'd had in a while. And that
something terrible had happened to Jack’s father. I felt things shifting into
place.

She smiled and shook her head.
"They've always been like this." She smiled. "They love each
other, and they don't know how to say so, so they fight."

I nodded. “I’m sorry thought. I…”

"It's not your fault,"
she added.

I looked out the window. Jack had
walked outside with Riley. He was far enough away from the windows to not
realize I could see him. But I saw him. He sat down on the steps, resting his
elbows on his knees. The idiot wasn’t wearing a coat over his blazer, and he'd
turned his head to look up at the stars.

I watched him shiver—from the cold
or maybe the argument.

Riley stood a few feet behind him,
talking quietly. Jack nodded occasionally and smiled sadly once. His shoulders
were slumped, awkwardly broken. He needed a coat. He had to have a coat if he
was going to sit out there.

I looked at Julie. “Would you
excuse me?” I said. I got up from the table and walked upstairs to Jack’s room.
His sketchbook was thrown open on his desk, the one he was always doodling in,
but he never showed me.

He had been drawn me, in the
passenger’s seat of his car. One leg up on the dashboard, my head turned away
from him. My face shaded lightly with pencil. I put my fingertips on the page
and felt tears brim behind my eyes. I swallowed hard and took his coat from the
back of the desk chair, and hurried down the stairs with it.

I walked outside.

I'd never heard Riley's voice sound
so gentle.

“…Alex is dealing with a lot right
now. He’s not the same kid who left for war. Nobody is—”

“Hey,” I said loudly so that they
would know I was there. I stood uncomfortably, wavering, not wanting to
intervene, and not wanting to go. “I, um, thought you might want a coat.”

Jack looked at me and didn’t say
anything. I walked to the steps and draped it over his shoulders. He pulled it
closer. “Thanks.”

I sat down next to him.

"You'll ruin your dress,"
he warned.

"I don't care."

Riley smiled. "You'll be
okay?" He nodded at the door, like he was thinking of going in.

“She doesn't bite,” Jack said.  He blew
on his hands and turned his head, watching Riley go.  I didn't say anything. He
pulled a flask from his front pocket and took a sip.

“Should we talk?” I asked.

"About?"

"That." I nodded inside.
"Alex. Your Dad."

“It's a long story," he said.

"I'm good at long
stories."

He shook his head. “I know."
He smiled and looked over at me. He took another sip from the flask and offered
it to me. "But I'm not."

I took a small sip. It burned my
throat. I handed it back to him.

He cleared his throat. “My dad was
a war correspondent.” He bit his lip. “He loved it." He shrugged.

The shiver that went down my spine felt
like ice.

He took a sharp breath. "And
then he died."

"I'm sorry," I whispered.                        

"Yeah," he nodded.
"He went to Afghanistan. Right after 9/11, when we just had gone to war.
My mom begged him not to. He told her he’d be fine." He looked up at the
stars again. "They took him hostage. The Taliban." He shrugged. He
took a sip from his flask. “We never got the body back.” He breathed shortly
and exhaled. “They cut him into pieces and put it on terrorist YouTube or
whatever the fuck they call it.”

"Oh, Jack," I breathed. I
couldn't imagine. I couldn't imagine any of it, but I didn't have to imagine
Jack's pain, because there wasn't any way for him to hide it.

I could almost feel the tension of it
beneath his skin.

My breath swirled in white clouds
in front of my mouth. Everything made sense. “Jesus,” I squeezed my eyes shut.
“God, Jack. Why didn't you say something?"

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