Page 32 of Considering Us

“How about the washed-up old dudes?” shouted Shad Wilton, one of the biggest troublemakers on campus. I spotted Andrea strut over to the aisle next to his row and motion for him. The students around Shad hooted and slapped him on the back, and Shad begrudgingly left his seat to talk to Andrea behind the tiered seating.

“On that note,” replied Ryland, launching into the Grateful Dead’s “Touch of Grey.” A few students paid attention and bobbed along with it, but most just turned and talked to each other, ignoring the performance. I stood by a table full of platesof my now infamous cookies, which were devoured in less than ten minutes. I had no idea how these people were going to eat breakfast after this.

“And for our last song tonight, we have a special guest singer. We could definitely use some female vocals, so if any staff are interested in joining us, please reach out,” said Ryland. Hardly anyone was listening to him. Students were huddled together, and I spotted two making out under a blanket that they had wrapped around themselves. I looked for Andrea, but she was still chastising Shad, which seemed to be a bit much at this point. “In the meantime,” Ryland continued. “We’ll take help wherever we can get it. On lead vocals, please welcome student Ashlyn Lark!”

My jaw almost hit the ground as Ashlyn sauntered to the middle of the stage in a slinky cocktail dress and heels. She must have been freezing. Even Andrea stopped lecturing Shad to walk up to the back row and watch her niece perform. My guess was she had no idea this was occurring. “Hello,” she crooned. “Jealousy is rampant on the campus these days, whether it be between students or between staff. Sometimes, it involves people who don’t even live or work at Rockwood. We thought this was fitting.”

The band launched into Natalie Merchant’s “Jealousy,” which I doubted many of the students knew, but I sure did.What is Ryland trying to accomplish?And with Ashlyn as his accomplice, no less. It felt dirty and very inappropriate. Besides, if she had wanted to break up Kyle and his now ex-wife, he succeeded. Was he attempting to stir the pot further between Kyle and me, or was there more to this?And why does he care?I could feel Ashlyn looking right at me as she sang, even though her eyes were closed as she was crooning. None of it made any sense, and I wanted to get out of there as soon as possible. Seeing that students were already starting to leave mid-song tohead to breakfast, I texted the facilities team that we would be ready for a cookie table clean-up in five minutes and raced over to the dining hall.

I was out of breath and must have looked like a disheveled mess by the time I showed up in the kitchen. “You okay?” asked Marnie in her usual flat tone, which made me feel like she didn’t actually care one way or another. I reminded myself that she was like this with everyone and grabbed a glass of water.

“I think so,” I said, still gasping a bit. “It’s getting cold out. Students are starting to come in. I don’t know how much room they’re going to have in their stomachs for breakfast, but they’ll be here. It looks like karaoke is ready to go?”

“Yeah,” she answered. “The Robotics Club said they’d run it for us, so they’ve been setting up for the last hour. I just sent staff out to serve food. We’re fine, Devon. This is the easiest thing we’ve done all week.”

She was right; the formal dinner and all the dessert station logistics were by far much more challenging. “Thank you,” I said. “I’ll be out there keeping an eye on everything. Let me know if you need anything. You did a great job this week.”

“Yeah,” she said, nodding. That was about as good as things got between us, and I had to accept it. She was very different from me and a bit of an odd duck to work with, but she did a good job overall.

The students were filling the dining hall, getting food, and sitting at the tables. I noticed many of them were yawning, but a few were signing up for karaoke slots with the Robotics Club members. Within a few minutes, the sounds of students singing filled the cavernous room—lots of Lizzo, Taylor Swift, and Harry Styles. I felt a mix of exhaustion and exhilaration because the students were having fun, and my team had pulled the whole thing off. I had no idea if the students would be up to any antics later, but it was so late, and everyone seemed so tired. Part of mefelt like Andrea’s plan might work. I walked over to where she was standing in the corner of the room, eating a cinnamon roll.

“Good job, Devon,” she said. “Both on the whole thing and this damn cinnamon roll. I can’t begin to add up all the things I’ve eaten tonight, but they’ve all been amazing. I know I’ve been asking a lot of you this fall, but you’re doing awesome. It means a lot to me.”

It was, by far, the nicest thing she had said to me since I had started working at Rockwood. “I appreciate it,” I replied. “I also am very excited to have tomorrow off.”

“You doing anything fun? Hanging out with that hunky paramedic of yours? He can resuscitate me anytime,” she said, and it was so corny I had to laugh despite my exhaustion.

“Maybe,” I said. A man walked up to the microphone, and Andrea and I both gasped.

A student was already at the microphone and announced, “Our next performer will be Mr. Holling, and he will be singing Oasis’ ‘Don’t Look Back in Anger.’”

Kyle grabbed the microphone from the boy abruptly and gripped it with both hands, his eyes closed. Like the student depicting him earlier in the improv skit, his hair was a mess. His beard was overgrown, and he was wearing sweatpants and a Manchester United t-shirt that looked like it had been balled up and forgotten in the back corner of a dresser drawer. His big toes poked out of holes in his sneakers. I listened to the words of the song, just as I had listened to them while lying in a cramped twin dorm room bed next to him over fifteen years earlier. As I looked at his stress-worn face, I saw it blurred to a much younger, clean-shaven man, one who had kissed me, held me, and caressed me over many hours that one night. As Kyle belted out the lyrics, I felt them sear into me in multiple places, but especially into my head as I tried to make sense of everythingthat had happened, as well as my heart, which had grown achy and more confused.

“He’s still not over Cora,” said Ryland Dennis, who was now standing next to me. “How sad,” he smirked. “You know he’s singing this about her, right?”

“Oh, sure,” I said. There was no way in hell I was going to tell Ryland anything about the significance of this song for Kyle and me.

“Because in case you thought any of this was really about you,” he continued. “Cora was where the real magic was. She’s an incredible woman. So much beauty, so much style.” I felt him give me a once over, and I knew I looked like a mess after working all day and running across campus. I tried to ignore his inspection and took it with a grain of salt. He had very little credibility in my eyes. “You’re a distraction,” he said, walking away.

“He’s an ass,” Andrea said. “Don’t take him seriously. And you don’t see him with Cora now, do you?”

“Nope,” I answered, not knowing what else to say. She was absolutely correct, but she also loved her gossip, and I didn’t need to feed that anymore that night.

Kyle finished singing and walked out of the room. Students were buzzing and asking each other about the song and what the whole thing meant. “I think it’s about her,” one student said loudly enough and pointed in my direction. I looked at Andrea and bit my lip.

“You want to try to catch up with him?” she asked. “I’m going to pull the plug on all of this in the next fifteen minutes. These kids need to get some sleep. And then, God willing, they stay there.”

I nodded several times and bolted outside, trying to find Kyle. I didn’t see him anywhere. I ran to his dorm, but my key wouldn’t work on that building. All the students were inthe dining hall, so I couldn’t plead with anyone to let me in. I looked up to his window, but it was dark. Still, I climbed the cold fire escape in case he had simply gone to bed. I peered in the windows and saw nothing. I knocked on the glass and waited, but there was nothing. It was almost one in the morning; The Horse was closing in a few minutes, and last call had already passed. The rest of the bars in Portsmouth were either closed or about to close, so it wasn’t worth heading into town. I checked the parking lot, and I couldn’t see his car anywhere. I was out of ideas.

I started walking back to the dining hall, as I figured I might as well help clean up. My phone lit up with a text from Heath.

>You still up? Everything go okay?

This was normal. Texting someone you care about is normal.Why am I resisting this so much?I felt like I had been fighting with ghosts all night. I texted back.

I paused for a moment and thought about my car sitting in its spot in front of Wentworth.

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