Page 34 of Considering Us

I looked at Andrea, who was a combination of sad and angry, her limp hair laden with oily beef soup. She wasn’t perfect, but neither were any of us, especially me. She didn’t deserve this. “What happens if the investigation yields proof that they did all of it? I saw The Stallion covered in tarps again. I assume they got to it.”

“Yes, they spray-painted words labeling it as part of a horse’s anatomy, if you know what I mean.”

I gasped. “Does Ward Connelly know?”

“That call might have been worse than the call to my brother. Yes, he knows. And to answer your earlier question, the students could be removed. I might be in the position of telling myvery own niece that she can no longer attend the school that I oversee. If the Board even keeps me on.”

I sat up a bit straighter. “I think you should. Kick her out. She’s obviously ungrateful and abusive.” This was the overreaching I was worried about, but I felt so badly for Andrea. She was being taken advantage of.

Andrea sighed. “You’re probably right. I need to warn you about a few other things. I know it’s your day off, so this is just to make you aware of the situation. They ransacked the kitchen. I have no idea how they were still hungry after that breakfast, on top of everything else, but it looks like they grabbed food for their beach celebration. Marnie and I decided that given the circumstances, we would keep the dining hall closed until dinner. We had a boatload of doughnuts delivered and set up a breakfast station outside this morning. It’s probably winding down now. We’re getting boxed lunches brought in from a deli in Portsmouth. Marnie’s idea, of course.”

“I’ll help them at dinner,” I said. “I’ll take a night off this week or something.” Andrea nodded, looking relieved. “What else should I know?”

“They partied in the library. It’s a mess. A sticky keg, books everywhere, so much cleaning is needed. Lots of other classrooms are messed up. We may need to shift classes around a bit until things are back to normal.”

I remembered she had mentioned something about my fire escape in her frantic earlier texts. “What about my apartment? Did they break in?”

“No, we checked after we saw your fire escapedecorated,shall we say?Or itwasdecorated. Not anymore. I had maintenance take everything down after they snapped a bunch of pictures for the record.”

I felt a huge pit drop through my stomach as if I had swallowed a bowling ball. “Let me see them.”

“Are you sure? Devon, none of it’s very kind. And I really need you to stay here,” she said, on the verge of tears. “You’ve been a godsend. I know I don’t say it enough, but you’ve been such a positive force at Rockwood. Don’t let the vandalism of a few mean-spirited teenagers drive you out of here. Hell, they’ll probably get kicked out anyway.”

“Everyone else knows what was there. I need to see it for myself.”

Andrea passed her phone over to me. My kitchen window and fire escape were adorned with big cardboard faces. Each was a man I had been involved with at some point in my life. Bentley Preston. Heath. Kyle. Random guys I dated in Boston. A guy I went on one date with during my college semester in Washington, DC. I couldn’t even remember his name. My senior prom date.How had they found these guys?Perched on the fire escape landing was a waste barrel with the word TRASH emblazoned on it. Affixed to the container was one more cardboard face, and this time it was mine. The message was clear.

“Don’t worry, Andrea. I’m not going anywhere.” Despite the horror and embarrassment of it all, I felt resolved. And a desire to help make Rockwood better if I could.

“Oh, good,” she said with relief. “And I really need to get some more people to help clean this afternoon so we can get the campus back to normal operations tomorrow. I am offering fifty dollars an hour. Do you know anyone who needs cash?”

...

I drove my car the short distance to Wentworth, taking note of the work this defiant group of students had done. Toilet paper filled many of the trees. Signs and flyers of all sizes litteredthe interiors and exteriors of buildings depicting Andrea’s head photoshopped onto a bikini-clad woman’s body, straddling The Stallion. I spotted Kyle’s car parked on campus. Someone had scrawledDevon’s Boy Toyon the rear window with what I hoped were washable car markers. These kids had thought of everything.

When I was finally sitting on my couch, still wearing my clothes from the previous night, I stared at my mother’s cell phone number in my contacts. Part of me hoped she had another gig that afternoon and would pass. I also knew that fifty dollars an hour was much more money than she ever made, and I could probably find a small, easy task that my dad could handle. They could leave Rockwood that night with perhaps two weeks’ salary.

“Oh, I haven’t heard fromyouin a long time. Too busy for her mother, I always tell anyone who will listen.” This was my mother’s greeting when she answered my call.

“Hi, Mom.”

“Hello. I can’t imagine what this must be about since I never get calls from you. I don’t eventryto call you because you are always so busy doing suchimportantthings.”

I took a breath and counted to three before answering. “Would you like to make some money working at Rockwood this afternoon?” I figured keeping emotion out of it and getting right to the point was the way to go. A businesslike approach with people like her helped keep me somewhat in check.

“At your fancy school? Imagine that. What do you want me to do, scrub toilets? Because I’ll do that. I do that all the time.”

“I know you do. But it’s going to be cleaning some spaces that got vandalized last night. There was a big prank on campus, and we need to get the school ready for classes and a sense of normalcy. You can have dinner here, too, if you want.”

“Those kids sound like little shits if they did that. How lucky they are to go to such a fancy place. They don’t know how goodthey have it. I had to drop out of high school to help support my family, as you know. Kids today are so spoiled.”

I ignored her tirade and pressed on. “I can probably find something for Dad to do, too,” I said. “Nothing too hard on him, I promise. You’ll each make fifty dollars an hour.”

The woman who never shut up was speechless. After about ten seconds, she finally spoke. “Fifty dollars an hour? Each? That school has that kind of money? I can’t imagine how much they’ve been paying you. I expect a very nice Christmas present, Devon.”

I could never win with her. “Would you like to come down here? If not, I’m sure I can find some other people.”

“No, no, we’ll do it,” she said. “We’ll clean up after the little shits.”

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