The Fifteenth Minute (17 page)

T
he days
that follow are like a roller coaster. Whenever I try to concentrate on my coursework, my mind drifts to the R-rated scenes we played out in DJ’s bed. It’s hard to read Brecht when I’m picturing that perfect moment when DJ laid me down on his bed. Rawrrrr. I catch myself staring into space, grinning like a fool.

But whenever I remember he might be kicked out of school, I’m full of despair.

There are sweet texts from DJ that make me smile. But when he calls me to say hello, he sounds blue. And reserved, too. It scares me, because I’m afraid we won’t get another chance to be together in the same happy way we were on Saturday night. I’m haunted by the things he told me before we went into his bedroom. “I’m not a good bet.” And, “I’m done with one-night stands, so I wasn’t going to go there with you.”

I didn’t listen, did I? Now I want things from him. Big things. And he’s already warned me he may not be able to deliver.

My coping mechanism is research. And not all of it healthy.

Of course I’ve already given in to the urge to search for every Anne, Ann and Anna at Harkness. But she’s proved surprisingly elusive. I have a few clues. He said she’s a sophomore and in Trindle House.

“Whatcha doing?” Bella says from over my shoulder while I’m in the middle of this task. My screen shows the script I’ve written to parse every girl at Harkness whose name begins with A.

“God!” I leap in my seat. “You scared me.”

“I noticed.” My neighbor peers at the screen. “Did you find her?”

There’s no point in pretending I don’t know who she means. “Nope.”

“Stop looking, babe. Eat a bunch of ice cream or get drunk. But obsessing about her is not a good plan.”

As if I don’t know that. I close the browser window. “I’ve been researching the politics, too. DJ told me that the college didn’t bother to investigate his case. And apparently that’s a thing.”

“It is?”

I nod. “It’s a big problem. Women report a sexual assault to their school, and then the school drops the ball. Because they don’t know how to do it right.”

Bella lies down on my bed. “When I made my complaint to the dean, they videotaped the whole thing. Did they do the same for DJ?”

“He got a phone call, out of the blue. They’re not giving him a chance to defend himself.”

“Fuck,” Bella empathizes. “Have you seen him lately? Where do you two stand?”

Isn’t that the question? “I don’t want to be the kind of girl who demands to talk about the relationship. After…you know.”

“Sex?” Bella props her chin in the crook of one arm and looks up at me. “But maybe you’re the kind of girl who needs to know. Doesn’t make you a bad person. If you need exclusivity to be comfortable, there’s no shame in saying so.”

Coming out of her mouth, it sounds mature and completely rational. But whenever DJ and I speak on the phone, I can’t make myself bring it up. “Maybe I should have thought about that beforehand. And he’s got so much on his mind.”

“So do you, now,” Bella points out.

Right. “But he’s got this huge problem to solve. It seems rude to bang down his door and ask if he’ll be my boyfriend now.”

“But maybe you need to do that before any more banging happens.”

“Maybe,” I hedge. Wanting a label from him makes me feel needy, though.

“So can we order Thai food and drink cheap white wine tonight?”

The question catches me off guard. “Sure? Well, yes to the Thai food. No to the wine.” I’ve never been a fan.

Bella gets up to get her credit card. It’s her turn to pay. I’m firing up the order page online when my phone rings. I answer immediately, of course, hoping it’s DJ.

“Lianne,” Bob says. “I called you today.”

Right. He had. “Sorry,” I say, wondering why my calls to him are never returned as promptly as his are supposed to be.

“Did you sign it yet?”

That’s Bob for you. He’s a charmer. “Any news on the Scottish play?” It’s not nice of me to hold this contract hostage. But the minute I sign it I’m going to lose his attention again. Sometimes a girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do.

“It’s not the only good role in Hollywood,” he snaps.

“True,” I say carefully. I want Lady M. More than life itself. But if Bob wants to talk about other good roles for me, that’s a conversation worth having. “What else did you have in mind?”

“After you’re done with Princess Vindi, we need to age you up. That’s why this sex scene isn’t so bad for your career. Directors want to be able to picture you as a female lead. We can’t keep peddling you as the wonder child forever.”

“I’m listening.” It wasn’t often that Bob wasted any brain cells trying to think Big Thoughts about my career. I pressed the phone closer to my ear, wondering if any juicy roles have crossed his desk lately.

“Have you considered an enlargement?”

“What?” For a second I don’t understand. An enlargement for…photos?

“I think you should consider it,” he suggests. “If you want to play the ingenue, you need to have the body.”

Shock makes me unable to speak for a moment. “Bob,” I finally choke. “I’m not getting bigger boobs. There have to be roles I can play without double Ds.”

“A C-cup would be fine,” he says. “Lots of parts for those. I mean you.”

“I have to go,” I manage to say. And somehow I don’t throw my phone against the wall. Though I want to.

“Think about it,” he says before nuking our call.

Oh, I’ll
think
about it. Probably while throwing darts at Bob’s picture and grinding my teeth.

“Bella!” I call. “I changed my mind about the wine! I want some.”

“Poured it for you already,” she returns.

Bella is the best kind of friend. That is all.

O
n Thursday night
, I get a chance to see DJ live and in person. He’s got an odd gig playing music for a skating party. Harkness College has donated rink time on a Wednesday night for a Boys and Girls Club skating party. He asks me to meet him in the booth and to come hungry.

When I get there, I find that he’s brought us Gino’s calzones and Caesar salad. And cannoli for dessert.

“Wow,” I say, stripping off my coat and putting it over the back of a chair. “Fancy.”

“Are you hungry? I’m starved.” DJ is bent over his computer, probably cuing up songs. He’s already laid out two place-settings, one for each of us. I take off my trusty baseball cap and worry it in my hands. I’m having a dork moment, wondering if I’m supposed to kiss him hello.

He looks up after a minute and smiles. “Hi, smalls. Good to see you.”

“Likewise.”

DJ drops his eyes to the screen again. “Wasn’t sure you’d come.”

“Why?”

He gives a half shrug and busies himself again. Below us on the ice, teenagers are circling to a Lady Gaga tune. “Okay,” he says eventually, moving away from the keyboard. “This is easier than a game. I’ve got forty minutes of continuous music cued up. But if you get the urge to be creative, go for it.” He comes around to stand beside me, then leans down to kiss my forehead. “Let’s eat,” he says.

So we do. And we watch the teenagers on the ice. Some of them are skating in earnest, while others cling to the side, laughing at their own attempts to stay vertical. When a slow song comes on, they pair up, holding hands while they circle. The song is John Legend’s “All of Me,” which is such an over-the-top love song it makes me feel self-conscious. “That guy right there,” I say, pointing at a kid in a green jacket. “He’s going to ask that girl to skate. The one in the pink hat. I’ll put five bucks on it.”

DJ snorts. “Okay, I’ll take that bet. I don’t like your chances, though. The song is half over.”

“True.” We watch together, waiting to see what happens. I can’t see the boy’s face, but it’s obvious he keeps looking over to where the girl stands. And every time he does, her friends poke each other and giggle.

“I’m not taking your money, smalls,” DJ says as the track plays on and on, and John Legend proclaims his undying love. “Our man would probably be brave enough to do it, but her posse is kind of a tough audience.”

Down on the ice, our guy shoves his hands in his pockets. I’m about to concede when he pushes off and skates unsteadily toward the clump of girls. “Omigod!” I squeak, grabbing DJ’s hand. It closes around mine.

I hold my breath while the boy speaks to them and John Legend croons through the sound system. Finally it happens. The girl turns her back on her friends and wobbles further onto the ice. Our boy reaches for her hand, and then they both wobble. It looks scary there for a second, but then they recover, skating off in a counter-clockwise oval with all the other brave couples.

When I catch DJ watching me, he looks away.

“What?” I ask, my voice thick.

He smiles. “You’re just so freaking cute, smalls.”

“Would you have asked me to skate? If we met in high school?” That sounds like I’m fishing for compliments. But it pleases me to think about a younger DJ and a high school me. I never went to high school. With my big life and my even bigger paycheck, nobody ever wants to hear me ask what I might have missed.

“I’d have asked you in a hot second,” he answers, chuckling. “We didn’t have ice skating parties at my school, and it’s a damn shame, because this would have been my event, right? And if you couldn’t skate, that would make it even better. Because then you’d have to hold on tight.” He squeezes my hand. “Wish I’d met you in high school. Everything would be different.”

Now I’m sad again.

The song ends, and an uptempo Katy Perry song comes on. Our couple splits apart. They were together for probably ninety seconds. I hope it’s not the end for them.

When the party ends, I help DJ pack up his stuff. “Can I walk you home?” he asks. “I’m headed to the library. With all that’s going on, I’m a little behind.”

I swallow my disappointment. I’d been hoping for more alone time with DJ. “Sure.”

S
unday is
the next chance I get to have some private time with DJ. I’ve made the case that I really need to catch up on some Shakespeare. But it’s a foil, of course. It’s just an excuse for another magic night with him. He invites me over for eight o’clock.

By seven-thirty I’ve already done my face with subtle
do me
eyes and just a whisper of my favorite cherry lip gloss. But then I make three laps around my tiny dorm room without finding the book I’m looking for. “Hey, Bella?” I call through my open bathroom door. “By any chance have you seen my copy of Macbeth?”

A moment later she appears in my doorway holding it. “Sorry, I was reading it.”

“Really? Don’t you have your own work to do?” I snatch the book from her hands, frustrated that I just spent twenty minutes looking for it.

“Well if you want to get all technical about it.” She tosses herself onto my bed, then watches me stuff the book into my backpack. “Going to DJ’s?”

I’m so busted. “Um, why would you ask?”

“Macbeth and your toothbrush? It’s a strange combination. Wait…” She lunges for my bag before I can react, her hand closing on something I’ve stashed in there. She squeals with glee. “Oh MY God! You’re bringing lingerie!”

I grab the nightgown out of her hand before she can inspect it further. “It’s not lingerie. It’s cotton.”

“I saw lace.”

“You’re nosy.”

Bella cackles. “Don’t forget the condoms. Hey—I have some flavored ones. You want a sample? I have cherry and watermelon. And vanilla, but those are gross.”

“I’m good,” I say tightly. The fact that I’m hoping for a fun night in DJ’s bed embarrasses me, even if Bella doesn’t understand my hesitation to say so. It’s easy for me to tell DJ that I like him. A lot. But it’s still impossible for me to say out loud that I hope he removes all my clothes the second I arrive at his house.

I drop the nightgown on the bed and leave it there. I’d wavered mightily on bringing it, and now it seems pushy of me. Bella hands me my coat with a smile. Then she sweeps the nightgown up, folds it twice and tucks it into my bag.

Without a word, I jam it a little further down so it’s not visible from the top.

“Have a fun night,” Bella says. “I won’t wait up.”

“Thanks,” I mumble, while Bella snickers.

DJ had said he’d be free to hang out after eight, and it’s quarter ’til when I arrive on his street. Hopefully he won’t be irritated that I’m early.

Eager much?
I tease myself as I climb the stoop.

The other two times I’ve visited DJ’s house, there was nobody else home. But tonight is different. Orsen answers when I knock. “Hey,” he says, opening the door wide to admit me. “DJ!” he yells. “Company!”

As I step forward into the living room, several heads swivel around to see who’s arrived. There are one or two hockey players I don’t know very well and some girls. One of them is wearing that stupid shirt, proclaiming herself to be a student of Harkness who doesn’t know me.

Guess that’s accurate.

“Hi,” I say into that hush that’s fallen over them.

“Hey, Lianne,” says the freshman O’Hane, but the rest just stare. It’s like any day on campus for me. I shift my bag a little higher on my shoulder and hope DJ emerges from wherever he is soon.

“Thought he was in the kitchen,” Orsen mutters. “Deej!”

“I’ll check,” I say, eager to get away from all the eyes on me.

But when I duck around the corner I hear a girl’s laughter, and then DJ’s low voice saying something teasing to her. Then she laughs again. Though I feel a chill on my neck, I keep going, rounding the refrigerator, spotting DJ at the little table in the corner with a smiling girl with dark, wavy hair.

They look very cozy.

DJ looks up to discover me standing there. And I swear to God, the smile drops right off his face. “Lianne,” he says. “Hi.”

“Hi,” I manage. But I feel like turning around and running out.

He stands up quickly, just as the girl turns her head. “This is my sister, Violet.”

His…what?

“Oh my
GOD!
” the girl squeals. “Danny! You didn’t tell me you knew Lianne Challice!
I love her!
”

He comes around the table and gives me a one-armed hug, which I return awkwardly. I don’t get a kiss, either.

“Sorry I’m early,” I say.

Violet is grinning wildly. “Omigod, Danny! You weren’t
going
to tell me, were you? Jesus, are you
dating?
”

“Um,” DJ says while I die a little inside. He said
um
. So I guess we’re not, in fact, dating. I paste what I hope is a neutral expression on my face. And I think I can hear the lacy nightgown in my backpack laughing at me.

Fortunately, Violet is still making The Sound, and doesn’t seem to notice her brother dodged the question. She’s jumped up to grab my hand, pumping it up and down. “This is
epic
. I’ve seen
all
your movies. Twice. And I’m totally acting like a moron right now, aren’t I? But…” Her smile is so hopeful. “You probably hate it when people ask. But could I
please
have a picture?”

“Sure,” I say at the exact same time that DJ says “No.”

Ouch
. I mean…I know what happened the last time I got caught in a photo with one of the Trevi family. But, geez.

Violet whips out her phone anyway. She stands beside me and aims the selfie cam at us. I smile, sort of, and she takes the shot. Then she turns on her brother. “Okay, this is
crazy
. I know I need to calm down.”

“You’ve been cray cray for eighteen years, Violet. Why stop now?”

She makes a face at her brother. “
You
have so much explaining to do. Like,
months’
worth.”

They exchange a long glance I can’t quite read. “I know,” he says quietly.

Violet crosses her arms in front of her chest. “And yet you just spent the whole day not answering my questions.”

DJ’s wince is so big it would be visible from space.

“Violet!” Orsen yells from the living room. “Your friends are here!”

“Thanks!” she returns. Then she gives her brother a thump on the chest with her fist. “You are saved by the bell. For
now
. But after this concert—” She nudges him with her elbow. “—and then after I go to a
rave
with strangers, and drop ecstasy and get wasted, we’re going to talk.”

“Right after I bail you out of jail,” he deadpans. “Don’t forget that part.”

“Exactly.” She reaches up and musses his hair before turning toward the door. “I’ll see you in a few hours.”

“Call me when it’s time to walk home,” he says, following her. “I’ll come and meet you.”

“Danny, I’m not going to get lost,” she scoffs over her shoulder.

“Just do it, will you? You don’t know this neighborhood.”

“Lianne Challice made it here alive,” she fires back.

Whatever he says next, I don’t hear it. I take off my coat and drape it over a chair. Then I wait in the kitchen for him to reappear, leaning against the refrigerator, wondering what just happened. Maybe it’s juvenile of me, but I’m feeling kind of crushed by how that all went down. If I had siblings who actually spoke to me, I’d be on the phone in a heartbeat, telling them I’d met the most awesome guy…

He reappears a moment later, his face serious. “Sorry, smalls,” he says. “That was…” He sighs. “My sister doesn’t know about my mess, in case that wasn’t obvious. Or that
picture
, or my dad freaking out about it. So…” He rubs the back of his neck. “Sorry.”

“Why doesn’t she know about your case?” That’s the weirdest thing he’s just said. “Your brother does, though, right?”

“Oh, yeah.” He opens the fridge and pulls out a Diet Coke for me. “Vi put a hurting on the soda supply, but I saved you one.”

“Thanks?” I’m still ornery. Still not sure where I stand. And maybe it’s selfish of me to care so much about labels when DJ’s world is half collapsed. He has less space in his life for me than I have for him. I get it. But I’ve never done any of this before, and it stings that it means less to him than it does to me.

“Come on,” he says, ready to change the subject. “Let’s find somewhere we can read. The living room seems occupied.”

There’s a giggle from the sofa as I follow him out of the kitchen. “Yep.”

“We could always stay in the kitchen,” he says, jerking a thumb toward the tiny table in the corner. “But it’s not very quiet. And there’s my room. You pick.”

“Well…” I clear my throat. “I’d rather not have an audience.”

“Okay,” he agrees. Then he leads the way into his room.

I wait in the doorway while he moves his sister’s flowered duffel to the floor and tosses a copy of Macbeth onto the quilt. I toss its twin beside it, taking care to zip my backpack shut immediately. I had big expectations tonight, and now that my hopes are dashed, I sure don’t want to advertise them. I climb up to sit on the bed, my back to the wall. There’s room for him to sit close to me or far away, and I wait to see what he’ll do.

DJ sits at the head of the bed, which is certainly further away than I’d like. But then he scoops my feet into his lap. “Okay, smalls. What are we reading today?” He grabs a paperback.

“I need to hear Act Five,” I tell him because it’s true. Also, it doesn’t hurt that it’s the last act in the play, which will quickly bring us to the ending. Because hope springs eternal.

“Okay,” DJ says, flipping open the cover.

He’s all business. So I gamely pick up the other book. It’s his copy, but that’s okay. I like seeing which pages he’s dog-eared. His book is more broken-in than I’d expect. Looks like DJ has been studying the Scottish play as much as I have.

“I have two nights watched with you, but can perceive no truth in your report,” DJ begins, reading the part of Lady Macbeth’s doctor.

We settle in. And shortly I read Lady M’s iconic “out, damned spot” speech.

The rhythmic trading of lines soothes me, and I love hearing DJ’s low voice answer back in Shakespeare’s verse. We both relax. And in the fourth scene, DJ even begins to grin.

I enjoy his smile, so I don’t bother to point out that we aren’t exactly reading a happy scene. Then, on the next page, he laughs outright.

“What is it?” I can’t help but ask. “Are you thinking up more Shakespeare porn?”

He eyes me over the edge of his book. “You should talk. Your highlights are hilarious. I mean—they’re no
As You Lick It
. But still.”

“What highlights?”

He gives me the side eye. Then he flips back a page and passes over my copy of the book. I find a bright pink line underneath a quote.
What wood is this before us?
There’s a pink smiley in the margin. When I turn the page, there’s another one:
The wood began to move
. And finally,
Thou comest to use thy tongue
.

My groan is loud. “That’s
Bella’s
handiwork. Not mine.”

“Sure it is,” he chuckles.

“No, really!” I flip through the book and find several more.
I have given suck
, and
I have done the deed
. And, funniest of all,
I hear a knocking at the south entry
. I snort. When DJ grabs the book to see why, he bursts out laughing. “It’s not me!” I protest. “I swear!”

“I believe you! Almost.”

I give his knee a swat, and he grabs my hand and kisses it. When his eyes meet mine, I find all the warmth there I’ve been looking for. “I missed you,” I blurt out.

His smile slips away. “I missed you, too. I’m sorry. It’s been a busy week. Lots of calls with the lawyer. And my father.”

Ouch. “Are you okay?”

He tilts his head to the side and sighs. “I’ll be all right. I liked it better when you didn’t know to ask me that.”

I scoot closer to him on the quilt. I want to hug him so badly, but there’s a new sort of distance between us that I don’t know how to bridge. “I care about you. Is that so wrong?” There’s a tremor in my stomach, because I don’t know how much is safe to reveal. Does he even want to know how much I like him?

He leans over, hooking me around the waist and hauling me onto his lap. “I care about you, too,” he says, pushing the hair off my shoulder and kissing my neck. “That’s why I hate dragging you into my disaster.”

My brain goes a little fuzzy, because I’m finally right where I wanted to be. “Maybe it won’t be a disaster.”

“Maybe,” he echoes. But he’s not convinced.

He kisses my neck again, and I close my eyes. Life is just better when DJ is nearby. I wish I could keep him always within arm’s reach. “Hey,” I say as a big hand settles onto my tummy. I could sit like this forever. “My friend Kevin has a movie coming out next month. There’s a big premier in New York. You want to come with me? It will be an over-the-top kind of party. We might have fun.”

“Next month?” he says between kisses. “Sounds like fun, smalls. But I can’t plan that far ahead. You should ask Pepe or someone who knows they’ll be around.”

My heart teeters, and just when things were going so well. “I don’t want to go with Pepe. If you’re not available, I’m not going at all.”

DJ goes very still. But I plunge ahead anyway.

“I mean… You’ll still be
alive
next month. So you could plan ahead. If you
wanted
to.” DJ’s from Long Island. Even if he’s left Harkness—God forbid—it’s just a commuter train ride into the city.

In other words, DJ and I are still possible even if he’s kicked out of school.

I hadn’t meant to bring that up, but there it is. And now I forget to breathe while I wait for him to speak.

Before answering, he removes his hand from my back. “When is it?”

Exhale
. “I’ll look it up and text you the date.”

“Okay.”

We sit still for a bit. He doesn’t reach for his copy of the book, and neither do I. It’s a perfect quiet moment. Until I wreck it. “I read about something, and I thought you’d find it interesting.”

“What?” He nuzzles the back of my neck with his nose.

“One of the largest sororities in the country is backing this piece of legislation which would make it illegal for colleges to adjudicate rape cases. Colleges aren’t very good at it, and people are starting to get pissed off.”