Page 43 of Big Man on Campus

“What happened, Glory? What has Kace so guilty that he’d lie about you—or for you?”

“Nothing. He’s a good guy. Leave me alone, Phoebe. You know it’s none of your business. If Kace didn’t tell you then I’m certainly not going to.”

“Then you are hiding something. Both of you.” She pauses and gives a look like she’s inspecting me for flaws. Well look away, girl, you’ll find plenty of them, but having a big mouth and telling secrets I shouldn’t tell isn’t one of them. I don’t betray the people I love. Not on purpose anyway. Poor Sky.

“You realize I’m a reporter, right?”

“For SPU’s broadcast channel,” I say. “You do sports, right?” My point makes her nostrils flare. A sore spot. She wants to do more?

“I’m a journalism major. I do all kinds of stories, including investigative reporting. I know how to find out about things and before now, I respected Kace’s privacy about his past.” She stops talking, leaving her intentions hanging in the air around us.

My heart starts pounding now, too fast. I wish I had another nip. I close my eyes. Do I really? Do I really believe a nip, or a whole truckload of nips are going to help me? Because so far, maybe they’re hurting me more than helping. False confidence. Damn.

“And now?” I say, my voice loud, my chin up. Bring it on.

“Now I think Kace is in trouble and I intend to help him.” She pauses again and I think she should change her major to drama. “Unlike you.” She spins away.

Phoebe should definitely be a drama major. That’s the last calm thought I have before I feel the bottom fall out of my gut, spilling into the universe.

Belle tugs on my arm.

“I don’t like that lady,” she says.

“It’s okay, Belle. She’s not so bad. She’s just not feeling well.”

Neither am I.

Chapter 11

Glory

Almost all my disappointment fades when Kace scores the first goal of the game. I jump from my seat and throw my arms around Dools automatically. It’s been so long since I’ve seen him play in person my heart feels like a helium balloon and I could float away.

“Dools, do you believe that? My guy is a stud on ice.” I put two fingers in my mouth and blow an ear-splitting whistle, still jumping up and down like I’m on a pogo stick. Slapping Dooley’s back and squeezing him because I can’t contain my excitement, he laughs at me.

“You’re a crazy woman. But we already knew that, didn’t we?”

“You know better than most,” I say, even though he doesn’t know half of my story, he has good instincts.

“Too bad he won’t acknowledge you to his parents,” he says as we sit back down in our seats. I had to tell him because there was no other way to convince him to take the tickets for these less than optimal seats when he could have done better.

“It sucks that Kace has to worry about his parents seeing me anywhere near him. I can’t even give him a high five,” I say. The weight of shame diminishes the buoyancy of our celebration a minute ago. He insists that we need to act like strangers as far as his parents are concerned. Which makes no sense because they know we know each other.

“I won’t lie, Dools. It hurts that he won’t stand up to them for me.”

“It’s almost like he’s ashamed of you,” he says.

“No, it’s not that.” I can’t tell him about the tragedy. I haven’t shared the story of what happened with anyone besides my therapist since it happened. It’s too raw, like rubbing an ocean of salt in an open festering wound. I may as well cut my arm off.

“I understand why he can’t stand up for me,” I say. It’s 90% true.

“Please explain it to me so I understand, because I just don’t get it. Why would they hate you because you crashed a car into a tree? So you had a little to drink. Tell me that doesn’t happen all the time.”

“There was another crash,” I say. “Three years ago. Me and Kace’s sister were in a car accident together. Sky died and I didn’t.” That’s it. I’ve practiced the abbreviated version of the story at my therapist’s advice, to have something I could tell people that’s truthful, yet not overwhelming, that shares as big a piece of the truth as I’m comfortable telling.

“What? I never knew Kace had a sister? And she died? Were you like best friends?”

As usual, Dools hits the nail on the head. “I wish I could bottle instincts like yours.”