Between Black and Sunshine (15 page)

I spent the morning in the campus security offices. I haven’t slept in more than thirty hours. I’ve been running on adrenaline; worried about Jude, then pissed off at Piper, then trying, with everything I’ve got, to control myself with the security assholes so that I could get the hell out of there.

Now that I’m finally home I should rest for a while. My mind is buzzing and my body is shaking. My thoughts are all over the place and may possibly be becoming delusional. I feel fucking crazy. Is Jude really not talking to me? Is she mad at me? Did I do something? Did she do something… like meet a guy, or have sex with someone? Is she avoiding me because she hates me or because she hates herself? And where the hell is she staying? She’s not at the dorm, she’s not at her studio, she wasn’t at any of the house parties I searched out last night… where the fuck could she be?

As far as I know, Piper and I are all she has, so wherever she is, it’s not with someone she knows. Piper’s friends? But who are her friends? She seems like the type of girl who has a lot of guy friends. I’m sure Jude is at a strange guy’s house. Where the fuck is she? Why isn’t she with me? I shouldn’t have ever let her go, I should have been with her last night. I knew this; everything inside of me was telling me that I should have been with her last night. But I didn’t fucking listen, and now I don’t have her.

This last thought sends me into a rage that’s been building all morning. I can hear myself yelling, I can see myself grabbing random shit and throwing it across the room. I feel my hand go through the plaster in my wall. I feel it go through again, and then I’m face down on the floor, hands and knees holding me there. I thrash and yell some more, get a hold of an arm and yank it off me. Then there is an entire body on my arm, holding it down. I fight and yell until reality starts sinking into my crazy brain. It mixes with Anthony and Rake’s voices. They’re telling me to calm down. They’re telling me I’m gonna hurt myself. I stop thrashing eventually.

“Are you done spazing out, man? Can I let your arm go?” Rake asks, but he’s already got his big ass standing up. I feel Anthony’s hands back off too. I push myself off the floor and stand, which leads to pacing.

“Dude, you have to chill. You can’t just go flying off the handle like that. Whatever you’re so pissed about, I’m sure there’s a better way to deal with it,” Anthony tells me.

“Jude,” I manage to say. “I don’t know where she is. She won’t answer her phone, her friend won’t tell me where the hell she is. She’s with some strange guy in some strange place and I shouldn’t have let that happen.” I stop, suddenly feeling like my legs can’t move, and collapse into my chair. My eyes look at the shelf in front of me; the lined up records, the straight lines, but I can’t focus.

Rake interrupts my view by taking a seat in front of me on the ottoman. Anthony stands next to him. “What happened? You two get in a fight?”

“No. Nothing happened.”

“I saw her running out of Clara’s place last night. She seemed upset. I tried to find you to let you know, but you had gone. I figured you were with her.”

“What?” I ask, staring at Anthony with confusion.

“Did you see her after she left?”

“I didn’t know she was there. What the hell, man?”

“Calm down,” Rake says, straightening his back, getting ready to pounce.

“I’m fine. I didn’t know she was there. She was upset when she left?”

“I don’t know, it just seemed like she was hell bent on leaving. Some blonde was chasing after her.”

“Who else was she with?”

“I was with Miles and that Anton guy;
he was there buying from Miles. That’s why I noticed Jude, the dude was all like, ‘Oh, shit,’ then he grabbed his shit and took off after them.”

“Who the hell is Anton?” I ask, feeling my skin becoming hot, my veins pulsing.

“You know man, that poetry guy that Miles was tight with for a while.”

I do know, I can picture him clearly – stalking after Jude as she left the English building. “Hell, fucking, no,” I yell. What the fuck was she doing with him?

Rake’s got his hands on my shoulders. I could push him off me but I manage not too. I need to find Anton. “Where’s Miles?” I ask, standing up, going to find him myself.

I head down the hall to his room with Rake and Anthony following me, telling me to ‘relax’
.
I push open his door and go to his bed, tearing his covers off him.

“What the fuck?” he says.

“Was your buddy Anton with Jude last night?”

Miles shuffles to the opposite side of the bed, practically falling on the floor. He instinctively grabs a hold of the arm that I broke and I stop myself. I take a step back from the bed and tell myself to calm down.

“What?” Miles asks.

“I think Anton was at Clara’s last night with Jude. I’m wondering if you know anything about it,” I say slowly, evenly.

“I don’t know. He said he was coming with his friends and his sister. I didn’t see who he was with.”

“Who’s his sister?”

“I don’t know, I can’t remember her name. Someone, Post, I guess.”

“His last name is Post?”

“Yeah.”

“His sister is Piper Post?” I can feel myself vibrating. Piper’s brother, whose been stopping by the dorm to entertain them all week, was the teacher who was hitting on her? Why the fuck didn’t she tell me that? Because she didn’t want me to know. He’s been with her almost every night this week. I was picturing some little fucking kid. I mean, who hangs out with his sister in her dorm playing board games? Someone who will do anything to be near his little sister’s friend.
Fuck
.

Miles is mumbling words at me but I don’t hear them.

“Where does he live?”

Miles looks to my side where Rake is standing. “We might as well be with him when he goes. He’s gonna go either way,” Rake tells him.

“He better not pull any shit,” Miles says, reaching down and grabbing his glasses. “The guy buys a lot of weed from me and I can trust him. I don’t want Luca fucking that up. If I lose him, I lose the whole posse, and those beatniks smoke a lot.”

“You hear that?” Rake asks, standing in front of me. “If we bring you there you have to be cool, you understand? You can’t go ape shit on the dude, you hear me?”

“Got it.”

“Seriously, man. If you show up there and find the two of them together, you can’t hurt him.”

“Shut up, Rake,” I warn him.

“Luca, you gotta be cool. If she’s there and she tells you to leave, or he tells you to leave, you gotta go. You can’t hurt the guy, no matter what. Think about it. You gotta think the worst and get all you anger out before we take you there.”

I immediately picture the two of them together, naked, in bed. I push Rake off me and start pacing, holding my hands in tight fist, wanting to put them through something.

“You just need to see if Jude’s there, if she’s okay- that’s it. You can’t start any shit,” Rake says.

“Give me a minute,” I seethe.

I work through the images, through the worst case scenarios. I picture myself walking away. I do this over and over until my pacing stops.

All four of us are silent during the drive to Anton’s house. Miles drums his fingers on the steering wheel and Rake keeps looking at me to make sure I’m still under control. When we hit a tree-lined street with quaint arts and crafts style homes I think this can’t be a neighborhood where college students live. Then I think it looks like a good place to live, a good place for Jude to be. A stable place. A safe place.

I don’t want this to be a good place for her. I don’t want some wanna- be-professor to be good for her, but I can’t help feeling like it’s all good for her. Since Jude became mine I have not believed, even once, that I am bad for her. But suddenly, here on this perfect street, lined with perfect homes, I’m sure that I am. I’m sure she deserves more.

The car slows to a stop. “It’s that one.” Miles points across the street to a well-kept craftsman complete with a wraparound porch and pillars.

“Is this his parent’s place?” Anthony asks.

“No. The guy’s got his shit together and just happens to be a heavy pot smoker, which are two qualities that make him a great client that I don’t want to lose.”

“I’ll be cool,” I say, opening the door. Rake and Anthony open theirs too, but Miles tells them to stay back; he doesn’t want a whole gang showing up at the door.

“Anton’s solid. If Jude’s there it has nothing to do with him. He wouldn’t try anything with his little sister’s friend. He’s not that kind of guy,” Miles informs me on our walk across the street.

I have to laugh at that bunch of bullshit, but I don’t comment because I’m trying not to rage.

Miles scuttles in front of me at the door. It’s just a flimsy screen door. I look over his shoulder into the entryway that’s backed by a long set of stairs. I can see part of a dining room on the left and a living room on the right. The TV’s on. Is Jude in there?

Miles takes a deep breath, then knocks on the door.

“It’s open,” Anton says from somewhere inside.

Mile’s opens it, careful to keep me behind him. “It’s Miles. Okay if I come in?”

“In the living room,” he says, quietly.

I follow Miles around the corner and my heart stops beating for a second before it starts pounding like it wants to get the hell out of my body and run the fuck out of here.

Anton is sitting on one side of a couch, his right arm resting on one of Jude’s legs. Her feet are on his lap and he has one of them wrapped in his left hand. I watch as his eyes meet mine, I see the recognition before he moves both of his hands off her.
Smart move.

Fucking scum bag. Poetry reading, pseudo professor, student seducing, sneaky motherfucker.

“Luca, no,” I hear Miles yell before everything goes black. 

I hear Luca’s name being yelled and I think it’s me, that I’m yelling at him in my dream; the dream where I’m watching Luca take Clara into his arms and shove his tongue down her white throat. But then my leg drops off the couch and I open my eyes.

And he’s there, in front of me, above me, beating the shit out of Anton.

Miles is on his back but Luca doesn’t seem to notice. I try to stand, but my leg won’t let me. I prop myself up on the ottoman and start yelling, trying to grasp for Luca’s leg. He doesn’t see me, he doesn’t hear me. I know this Luca, and I know he can’t see me right now. He doesn’t even see Anton. He sees his rage and his body is in control, acting on its own. He punches Anton until he’s slumped over, his body being held up by Luca’s hand that’s clenched tight to his collar. Luca lets go and Anton falls hard to the floor. He’s knocked out but Luca’s not done. He drops down too, straddling Anton’s body, punching him repeatedly in the head.

“Miles, stop him,” I yell.

Miles’ eyes flash to me, panicked and confused. He tries, pointlessly, to pull Luca off again. I hear an awful crack and I start screaming bloody murder. I let myself fall to the floor and crawl over to Anton. I cover his face with my body, trying to protect him. Luca can’t see me, can’t see anything. He punches my shoulder that’s sheltering Anton.

“Luca, stop,” Miles yells, but I feel another punch to my back.

“What the fuck.” A roar rips through the room. It’s Rake’s voice. “Stupid, son of a bitch,” I hear him yell and then I don’t feel any more punches. “Anthony,” he yells, “help me with this monster.”

I hear the scuffling, I hear it retreating but I can’t get up. I can’t look back at them. My breath is ragged. I’m scared and I’m shocked and I’m afraid to uncover Anton and see what Luca has done to him.

“Jude,” I hear Miles saying softly. “I’m so sorry, Jude. Are you okay?”

“Call an ambulance,” I manage to say. “He’s not okay.”

My head spins but my thoughts aren’t forming as I sit in the waiting room at the hospital.  Everything is just a messed up blur. All I see is Luca’s dead face, his fist smashing into Anton over and over again.

I couldn’t look at Anton. I stayed huddled over him, listening to his slow, unsteady breaths until a man pulled me off of him. Even then, I kept my eyes trained on the floor. Miles picked me up and carried me out the back door and to Anton’s car. We drove to the hospital in silence. Or if he spoke to me, I didn’t hear him. He brought me into the hospital, sat me in this chair and I sit here, unmoving. Unbelieving.

Miles sits next to me. I can see his brown, leather shoes on the floor next to mine. His leg bounces. I watch the laces on his shoes bounce up and down. I watch them and I watch them. And then they stop and then they start moving until they are gone.

“Where is he?” My head snaps up now and I see Piper running towards us. Miles meets her in the middle of the waiting room. Tears stream down her face, her head turns from side to side, her eyes vibrate inside her sockets. I want to go to her, but I can’t. I just stare, helplessly. Miles speaks to her but I can’t hear his words. “Is he going to be okay?” she cries.

Miles looks down at the floor. Piper turns and runs toward the hall, looking for answers. About her brother, the one she loves so much. Her brother that I watched get brutally beat. By Luca.

Miles walks back to me, stopping at a side table, plucking out a Kleenex. He offers it to me but I just look at him. He lets out a breath, then starts wiping tears off my face that I didn’t realize were there. When he’s done he sits back down next to me.

I watch the hallway, waiting for Piper.

Time passes slowly. Time is nonexistent. Reality seems impossible. I stare at the hallway. Sometimes my view is interrupted as Miles paces in front of me. I hear the low murmur of the TV above my head. I hear Miles typing on his phone. People shuffle in and out.

I watch the hallway.

Piper is there, then, walking towards us. Her black eye makeup is smeared down her red face. Her steps are heavy like she’s having trouble moving her body across the linoleum floor. She doesn’t look at me. She comes and sits down, by my side, wiping a tissue across her nose. I don’t want to ask.

“He has a concussion. His jaw and his right eye socket are broken.” She breaks into a sob. Oh my god. I knew it was bad, of course I did. “He could have brain trauma,” she wails. “They won’t let me see him.” She folds over into herself.

I reach my hand out and place it on her back. She flinches from my touch so I remove it. “I’m so sorry,” I whisper, feeling I don’t have the right to say that. This is my fault. I shouldn’t have been there in that house with them. I shouldn’t have sat by Anton on the couch. I shouldn’t have rested my foot on his lap. This is my fault.