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“But you said—”
“You’re not a student here anymore, Graham. I’m sorry. I do wish things would’ve worked out differently for you, but I can’t get you out of this one. You assaulted someone. And now you’re drunk on campus.” Ali shook her head. “The only way I can help is to get you home before the wrong person finds out you’re here. How about we call your mom and ask her to pick you up?”
A vile, angered look spread across his face. “That’s it? I don’t go here anymore, so you just drop me?”
“I think the only thing I can do for you is make sure you get home and send your mom a list of some people you might want to talk to.”
He scoffed, his mouth twisting in near disgust. “A shrink? Will that shrink get me back on the field?”
“Graham, I’m—”
“Sorry?” he yelled so loudly that even with the tension, Ali jumped. “What am I supposed to do with your sorry?”
There was a knock on her door. “Al?”
“It’s okay, Beth!” she called out. “Graham,” Ali whispered, “I’m going to tell you this one more time. Call your mom. You have to leave. If you keep making a scene, someone is going to call campus security, and I definitely won’t be able to help you then.”
“You’re a liar,” he seethed, standing up from the couch. “You’re just like the rest of them.” Graham’s eyes darkened as they narrowed in on her, and Ali watched his taught arm shake, filled with tension as he clenched his fist. But it was the way her own body tightened, the sound of her heartbeat drumming in her ears that silently sounded the alarm in her head.
You’re the one that needs to get out of here, Ali.
Ali cautiously stood, backing up around her desk. By the keyboard, her phone vibrated, Cornell’s name glowing across the screen. Beth called him. Biting the inside of her bottom lip, she contemplated answering, letting him know that everything was fine. But when Graham stalked closer, Ali wasn’t so sure.
She reached for the landline. “I’ll call her for you. Then how about we wait for her in the parking lot?” Where there are people around.
Graham snatched the receiver from Ali’s hand, throwing it to the floor.
“Graham,” she gulped, locking her arms at her side in hopes that he wouldn’t see them trembling. “How about I take you home, okay? We can talk on the way.” Ali took a deep breath and tried to offer a small smile the best she could. “Let me just get my keys.”
Reaching for her purse on the filing cabinet, Ali tried to discreetly grab her cell phone. But in that half-second, Graham’s arm came back behind him, and he swung, sending the contents of her desk—her monitor, keyboard, phone, and cell phone onto the floor beside her in one fell swoop.
Holy shit.
Ali leaped backward at the crash, hitting the wall that was covered head to toe with photos of students who had graduated—despite coming from a plethora of difficult backgrounds and challenges—who had made it out without ever so much as raising their voice to Ali, let alone being violent.
What she was going to say, Ali didn’t know. But she shut her mouth when the door behind Graham swung open. In just two steps, Cornell had Graham pressed up against the wall.
“Ali, go to Beth’s office.” Cornell’s voice was eerily calm, but Ali knew him well enough to recognize that it was laden with sheer anger. Peeking out from beneath his T-shirt, even the sleeve of ink painted with a mural of heroes from children’s stories was unnaturally irate.
Ali looked down at the mess on the floor and shuddered, not sure if it was from what happened—what might have happened a moment earlier with Graham—or seeing Cornell in such a different state. All possibilities scared her
Ali could swear she heard Cornell grinding his teeth. “Now, Ali.”
She looked back over at them and wished she hadn’t. It was hard enough seeing Cornell being so forceful, but that wasn’t what gave Ali the goosebumps. It was Graham’s stare—cold, chilling—peeking over Cornell’s shoulder, focused entirely on her. It was the lift of the corner of his mouth into a grin.
Ali leaped over the mess that used to be on her desktop, nearly tripping over a cord and colliding with Jasper, who came running in, phone glued to his ear.
Beth yanked her into her office. “Are you okay?” her colleague asked frantically, grabbing Ali’s shoulders. “I called Cornell. I didn’t know what else to do.” Beth’s eyes were wide—uncertain, afraid, apologetic. “Ali, you’re shaking.”
“I’m fine.” I’m fine, right? She balled her right hand tightly into a fist, trying to stop the movement. Why am I shaking?
“What the hell happened?”
Ali watched more people march into her office. There was the dean, Evan Hewitt, and an older security guard, who, even during Ali’s long tenure at Hopperville, she had only seen on his lunch break in the cafeteria. There wasn’t really a need for him. Hopperville, both the college and the small and sleepy town were safe, uneventful, boring.
Until Graham.
Ali clenched every muscle below her neck to stop the tremors before facing Beth, pressing her lips together. “I couldn’t save him.”
