Page 56 of He Hate Me

“How…?”

“She and my dad used to visit each other regularly when they were in college. She told me she practically lived in his dorm room on weekends. But this place is what? Six, eight hours from where she went to school. That doesn’t make any sense.”

Brandon leans in, scanning the St. Joseph’s College website. “Yeah, you’re right. That doesn’t add up at all. Could she have mixed up the names or the locations?”

“I don’t see how? She spent a ton of time there. There’s no way she’d get the name wrong, and she drove there all the time.” I gesture at the screen. “This place is in a whole different state. But this is all guesswork. I can’t confront her if I’m not sure.”

“Why don’t we just call McCrystal and ask if he went there?”

“Will they just tell me?”

“It can’t hurt to ask.”

I speak to a very nice older woman in the registrar’s office. It doesn’t take long to confirm my dad went to McCrystal for a period that coincides with Devin’s sophomore and junior years.

It’s dark when I get home after getting an IUD inserted and driving Shelby home. I don’t pry, but she’s already had sex with Gio, and my sense is that he’s pressuring her to let him stop using condoms. I want to ask her more questions, because I’m concerned by how fast they’re moving. My gut says Shelby is going to end up regretting giving her virginity to Gio. But I keep my mouth shut because Shelby isn’t prying into who I’m having sex with, and I appreciate that.

My steps are heavy as I enter the house. My backpack feels like its weight has doubled and my uterus is cramping. Everything from my bellybutton down hurts. They said I might have discomfort for the next day or two, but this is much worse than I expected. At least it’s dampened my libido, because if I was as horny now as I was this morning, I’d be pissed at not getting to spend the afternoon with Brandon. I’m also exhausted. I think the lack of sleep last night is catching up with me.

I shuffle over to the sofa in the family room and flop on my back, dropping my bookbag on the floor. It’s been a long time since I’ve so completely ignored my planner. I’m supposed to be working on a paper and doing something else, though I can’t remember what. The sound of pans banging in the kitchen stops and my mother’s face appears over the back of the sofa.

“Are you okay, honey?”

“I have a headache, and my stomach hurts.”

“I was expecting you home over an hour ago.”

I sigh. “I had to help Shelby with something. I lost track of time.”

“Well, dinner will be ready in a few minutes.”

“I’m not really hungry. I’m just going to lie here, okay.”

“Okay.” She sounds uncertain, but I hear her steps as she retreats, and my eyes drift closed.

Many hours later, I wake up in the darkened family room. Someone, probably my mom, repositioned me and got me a pillow and a blanket. I feel slightly better, but I could still use a painkiller. I’m not sure what time it is, but from what I can see all the lights are off, so probably close to midnight.

I get up and climb the stairs slowly. In addition to the cramping I feel wetness. I hope nothing leaked through. I go straight through to the bathroom without turning on the lights in my bedroom, pop some pills and take a warm shower. I feel a lot better once I’m clean, diapered and pajamaed. Yes, I call pads diapers because they feel like what I imagine a diaper feels like. I usually wear tampons, but the clinic said I have to wait 24 hours to use one.

Now that I’m feeling a bit more human, I need to catch up on my task list. I’m grateful to see my backpack is on my desk. I pull out my planner and start organizing but feel a pang of hunger. I haven’t had anything to eat since lunch. I should go see what we have for leftovers.

When I leave my room, I notice light leaking under the door of Devin’s office. I wasn’t expecting anybody to be up, but I should say hi. We need to talk about my college applications, anyway. I wonder what he’s doing up so late. The doors to the master suite are closed, so my mom’s already asleep.

“Hey,” I say, poking my head in with a smile. Brandon, behind the desk, nearly jumps out of his seat. I’m momentarily confused.

“What are you doing in here?”

Twenty-One

Brandon

My heart feels like it’s going to explode from my chest. The expression “almost had a heart attack”? I never got how visceral that was until now. My sternum aches. If I had to pick someone to find me in here, it’s Deja, but that doesn’t mean this is a good thing. I see her confused frown and know I’d better come up with some kind of explanation and fast.

I discreetly tap my phone screen to end my call with Anton and slip my Bluetooth earpiece into my pocket.

“How are you feeling?” I ask, moving over to pull her into the room, and closing the door. In the process I notice the towel I was supposed to lay in front of the door to block light draped over an armchair. I could kick myself, but there’s not time for that now.

“Still not great,” she says. She texted me, “Got an IUD,” after the clinic visit and the next time I saw her, she was passed out on the sofa. I made some joke about her being drunk to cover up for staring at her so much. I wanted to take care of her, but my crass joke got her mom to get her bedding and make her more comfortable. She looked so adorable curled up on her side, her head lying on her folded hands.