Admission (4 page)

IT WAS NINE O’CLOCK
, and I was staying at a Fairfield Inn close to campus. Kirby had asked several times if I wanted to have dinner with him and his family, and after the tenth or eleventh time I finally said okay. I had just gotten back to the hotel, about ten minutes away from Providence, and was sprawled across the bed watching ESPN when the phone rang.

I assumed it was Kirby. Who else knew where I was? I never expected the voice on the line.

“This is Alyssa,” the voice said, sounding the same way she did a decade ago.

“Alyssa? As in Providence College’s Alyssa Roberts?” I said, trying to be funny but probably not succeeding.

“The one and the only.”

“How’d you know—” I began.

“One guess.”

“Did Kirby call you?”

“He might have possibly said something about you being in the area.”

“I just had dinner with him.”

“Yeah, I know.”

I had asked about Alyssa during dinner and hadn’t gotten a
lot of information. But Kirby had smiled, as if he found my interest in her surprising after all these years.

“Are you—Where are you calling from?”

“I live in Orland Park.”

“Still close by, huh? So—how are you?”

“Wide awake,” she said, surprising me. “Any chance you’d want to get a cup of coffee?”

I had just had maybe four cups back at Kirby’s house. “Sure, I’d love some.”

“David told me you would be leaving tomorrow, and I thought—well, it’s been awhile.”

My mind had finally caught up with my adrenaline, and I had to ask. “Are, uh—does tonight work? I mean, if tomorrow worked better—I don’t want to take you from, you know—”

“It’s just me, Jake,” Alyssa said. “You won’t be having coffee with a married woman, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“No, I wasn’t worried. I just—I thought—”

“It’d be nice to get you up-to-date on my life. I keep reading about yours in the alumni news.”

“I can’t help any of that.”

“Let’s talk at Starbucks. You remember where the old Bakers Square used to be? Still is? It’s across the street.”

“Is there anything closer to you?”

“I’m calling on a cell,” she said. “I’m actually already here.”

It’s seldom that I’m so utterly and completely surprised.

“See you soon,” I said.

The years had been kind to Alyssa Roberts. Extremely kind.

I opened the door to Starbucks and immediately spotted her at a small table, a tall cup in her hand, her friendly eyes finding mine and lighting up. A controlled smile curled at her lips as she stood. She seemed taller than in college, but that was probably just my imagination. Her hair was shorter but still fell to her shoulders. It was pulled half-back and held with a barrette. She put down her coffee cup and stood there, waiting for me.

I had imagined this scene many times before. The dramatic meeting again. I had seen it in my mind, but seeing her in person, all intentions and plans suddenly seemed inept. I walked toward her with a smile and eyes that didn’t blink and knew the one and only thing I could do was hug her.

For a brief second or two, I amazingly found myself back in the arms of Alyssa Roberts. Her hair was soft against my cheek, her body slight. A slight scent of citrus covered her. I moved away and saw her staring at me, studying me without realizing she was doing it.

“Good to see you,” I said.

“Thanks for coming.”

“I had a lot of other plans, I hope you know.”

“I’m sure.”

“Would you like anything else?”

She shook her head and sat back down as I got myself coffee. I sat down across from her, studying the young girl who had grown into the woman across from me. She wore jeans and a white button-down shirt, untucked. She still could pose as a college student, even though she was probably thirty-two.

“It’s good to see you,” I said.

“You already said that.” She grinned.

“I’m still in shock. I don’t know what to say.”

“We never did have a proper farewell,” Alyssa said.

“I’m used to doing improper things.”

“You look well.”

“Is that ‘well’ as in healthy, or is that a pause, as in, ‘well …’?”

“I see your sarcasm is still alive and kicking.”

I chuckled. “I do that when I get nervous.”

“Jake Rivers, nervous?”

“I can jump out of a plane, no problem. But this—well …”

“Well,” Alyssa repeated with a smile.

There was a decent crowd in the Starbucks at this time of night, but we ignored them. It felt surprisingly natural, sitting across from Alyssa and sipping on my latte.

“So you own your own company?” she asked.

“That makes it sound glamorous. The overhead is mine too.”

“Do you enjoy it?”

“Yeah, very much. It’s great to see something you’ve wanted to do slowly build into something halfway decent.”

“Are you growing?”

“Trying to.”

“That’s good to hear.”

The confidence in Alyssa was still there, along with her gentle nature. She had always carried a great mystery about her—this disciplined and controlled young woman who seemed like she had a huge heart. I had always wanted to see more of that heart. I was just too stupid and immature to get the chance.

“Are you still teaching?” I asked.

She nodded. “Just finished my ninth year.”

“Must be going well.”

“I never thought I’d be teaching for this long—but life can sometimes throw you a curveball.”

I didn’t want to ask, because really, it was none of my business. But her unexpected call, her dramatic declaration that “it’s just me,” the lack of a wedding ring—they all said the same thing.

And the awful thing was, I couldn’t help but be elated.

“What grade do you teach?”

“Third, which I love.”

She looked more mature than the girl I remembered. But the beauty, the softness, and the lack of ego or edge all remained. I found myself staring at her, studying her. I tried to remember when I first heard about Alyssa Roberts getting married. It was a few years after college, to some guy whose name sounded vaguely familiar. The news hadn’t shocked me. Seeing Alyssa without a ring did.

“What?” she asked, breaking my silence.

I hadn’t even noticed my sigh until it was all the way out.

“Just—being here—around college. Time can be a strange thing.”

“It doesn’t feel like ten years.”

“Eleven,” I said.

“Kirby said you’re looking for Alec.”

“Yeah. Trying to see if he’s still alive.”

“I’m surprised you guys didn’t stay in touch.”

“With Alec?” I shook my head. “It doesn’t surprise me. Then again, there was a lot of cleaning up I needed to do after college. One was my choice of friends. It was easy with Alec. He just disappeared.”

“Do you ever think about those days?”

I didn’t want to tell Alyssa the truth. “The more time goes by, the less I find to look back on.”

“I think of the person I used to be,” Alyssa said in earnest. “This little prim and proper girl working for the dean of students. It was unbelievable how sheltered I was. It was a hard adjustment after I graduated.”

“Yeah, tell me about it. I think it’s hard for everyone.”

“I just—if there’s one thing I’ve always wanted to do, Jake—I just want to apologize. …”

I looked at Alyssa in disbelief. “What for?”

“For being so judgmental.”

I laughed. “I was breaking rules, you know.”

“But more than that. There were a lot of things with you—with us. Things I regret.”

“You didn’t do anything to me, Alyssa. You were one of the few bright spots of Providence.”

“I just thought I knew exactly where I wanted to go and what my life should be like. That young naïve girl is gone.”

“I remember I really liked that girl,” I said.

She nodded and looked down at the table.

You’re still that girl
, I thought.
You will always be that girl
.

We talked for a few minutes about superficial stuff. A thousand unspoken words and feelings between the two of us, and I found myself talking about the suburb of Summit or the new science building at Providence or listening to Alyssa talk about the house she lived in.

“Or, well, used to live in,” she corrected. “Before things basically got flushed down the toilet.”

“I’m sorry,” I said.

“Yeah. Me too.”

She glanced over at me with those soft, haunting eyes I could still remember in my dreams.

“I just never thought I’d have to—that I would be sitting here talking to you about my failed—”

Alyssa couldn’t continue. The last few words cracked, and she composed herself.

“I feel like—this is weird, I know—I feel like this huge disappointment.”

I reached over and without a thought embraced her hand.

“Hey—I’m the
last
guy who would ever be disappointed in you. Come on. You remember who you’re talking to?”

“I really used to believe,” Alyssa said.

“Believe in what?”

“Believe in everything. Happily ever afters. The myth. The fairy tale.”

“That’s funny, ’cause I didn’t believe in anything.”

“Has that changed?”

“I think you’d be very surprised.”

She wanted and expected more, but I wasn’t ready. There were many things to tell her. Eleven years is hard to compress into one conversation.

“Let me show you something,” I told her.

I opened my wallet and slipped a finger inside one of the pockets. I produced a photo that had been cropped to fit and handed it to her.

She stared at it, her head shaking in disbelief. “I can’t believe you still have this,” she said, glancing at the photo and back at me.

“It’s gone everywhere I’ve ever gone since college. And let me tell you—that’s a lot of places.”

She continued to study the picture, her eyes teary.

“I always believed that at some point in my life, somewhere, I’d run into you again,” I said. “I didn’t know the circumstances and didn’t know the how, but I believed I’d see you again. And here we are.”

She nodded and handed the picture back to me.

I stared at it. It was taken my senior year at some party. I had my arm around Alyssa, who was laughing and trying to get
out of my hug. Her smile told the truth. That there was a chance for the two of us.

Looking at Alyssa now, eleven years later, I wondered if that chance still existed.

THE DOOR OPENED
, and the pleasant look on Alyssa’s face faded when she saw him.

“Jake, look—”

“Don’t worry, I’m not stalking you. I gotta meet with her.”

“Ms. Peterson?”

“What—I’m not on your little planner?”

“She didn’t tell me about it.”

“She called this morning. Let’s call this unofficial business.”

The tall ruler figure of Ms. Peterson came to the doorway and nodded at Jake. “Come on in.”

She shut the door behind them.

“All right,” Jake said, sitting down in the familiar chair. “What’d I do this time?”

“You’re not in trouble, not this time.”

“I’m finally getting that student-of-the-year award?”

Ms. Peterson looked like a windup toy that wasn’t able to expend its energy. Her face was square, her hair shorter than Jake’s. When she looked at him, he thought he could chip ice with the edge of her jaw.

“A few teachers commented on the fact that they smelled liquor on your breath the morning of enrollment.”

Jake appeared confused. He tried to remember enrollment. “What are you talking about?”

“Three different people told me that you came through the line inebriated and reeking of alcohol.”

“Maybe it’s just my minty mouthwash.”

“Jake, this isn’t funny.”

“Bad breath is nothing to laugh about.”

Ms. Peterson looked down at her desk, then darted her eyes back to him. “Someone reported seeing you in the parking lot drinking.”

“Are you serious?”

“Am I ever not?” she asked.

“What? Me and my flask bottle?”

“Jake, I think it’s a sign of a deeper problem.”

“Whoa, hold on. Look, I’m not going to deny my breath may have smelled like Milwaukee’s finest. But I wasn’t in the parking lot swigging gin. Come on.”

“How many times have you been in here, sitting across from me?”

“Sometimes you just can’t get enough of a good thing.”

“Nine times, not including today.”

“Did I set a record?”

Ms. Peterson shook her head. “You know, you can flash that smile and try to be cute with the girls, maybe even with some of the female profs, but that doesn’t get you anywhere in here.”

“So am I in trouble?”

“Not officially.”

“But unofficially, I’m what? Grounded?”

“Jake, I’m worried about you.”

“ ’cause I’m smoking in the boys’ room?”

“Because I believe you have a problem.”

Jake nodded, suddenly aware where this was heading. “Tell me something,” he said. “If you went to the University of Illinois or Wisconsin, what would you find kids my age doing?”

“This isn’t one of those universities.”

“Why single me out?”

“You signed a pledge before coming to Providence. You agreed to the rules, as much as you’ve fought to break them.”

“Everyone goes to parties and drinks around here,” he said. “I’m sorry to burst your bubble.”

“Not everyone.”

“Most everyone. And okay, maybe I smelled a little funky, but I’m not drinking in the parking lot, and I don’t have a problem.”

“What happens when you graduate?”

Jake shrugged. The almighty question. He didn’t have an answer.

“After a while, actions can become habits.”

He nodded. “Look—I’ve had enough college-imposed counseling because of getting in trouble. I know the symptoms and the signs and all that.”

“I’m just asking that you take a hard look at yourself.”

“I have. And I’m a college student who isn’t hurting anybody and who is just trying to have a fun time.”

“And consequences?”

Jake didn’t reply. He didn’t want this morphing into a theological question about morality and God and sin. Ms. Peterson knew better than to drag them down that path.

“You’re not a bad kid, Jake.”

“Thank you,” he replied cynically. “You’re not such a bad dean of students either.”

Ms. Peterson sighed. She looked ready to say something else, then tightened her lips. “That will be all,” she finally said, her face and body language raising the white flag of surrender.

The moving pictures blurred alongside of him. Jake rode like a gliding bobsled unable to stop, the icy world outside lifeless this time of night. He smoked and flicked the ashes on the dirty carpet of Alec’s rickety Jeep.

The drive was longer than he’d expected. He knew Alec was drunk, but how drunk was the question. The can of Coors Light in Alec’s hand didn’t help Jake’s curiosity, but he had one
of his own, so he couldn’t say anything. They had reached Lake Shore Drive after heading up I-55 and now drove between the glowing city of Chicago on their left and the dark waters of Lake Michigan on their right.

“You didn’t tell me we were coming in to the city,” Jake said.

“Sometimes the ’burbs can be suffocating.”

Jake didn’t like the way his friend stared at the road ahead, his glassy eyes serious, the usual cocky smile absent. He wondered if maybe Alec was taking him to a strip joint—the only decent ones were downtown—but he didn’t think so. Something else was up. Alec just wouldn’t say what.

They turned off on an exit and began heading down a side street. It felt crowded for a Thursday midnight. Alec drove for a while and Jake finished his beer, the second one he’d had in the Jeep. Alec started looking for a parking space.

“So what’s this all about?” Jake asked again, this time with more frustration.

Alec had showed up at the apartment an hour ago, where Jake had actually been trying to study. That had meant sitting in front of the television drinking some beers and occasionally looking at his business textbook. Alec said he wanted to take him somewhere, no questions asked. His deliberate tone got Jake’s attention, so after a few minutes, Jake agreed. His first class didn’t start until eleven anyway.

“I said no questions allowed,” Alec said.

“Come on. What’s the deal?”

“The deal? You want to know the deal?” Alec slowed down the Jeep and stared at him a minute.

“What?” Jake asked, defensive.

“I’m tired of your attitude.”

Jake watched the way Alec sucked on his cigarette and tightened the grip around the steering wheel. The violent industrial music blaring through the speakers didn’t help his mood.

“And this is going to help it?”

“Well, it’s sure going to help mine.”

“So why not go alone? Why do you need me and my attitude?”

“Because you’re part of the package deal tonight. Without you this wouldn’t work.”

Alec parked the Jeep in a narrow spot between two cars. They got out, and Jake followed Alec down the sidewalk lined with dirty snow. The windchill was below zero.

It took five minutes to reach the bar on the corner of an intersection. A small sign said
Four-leaf Clover
.

“If we wanted a fake-Irish pub we could’ve gone to Shaughnessy’s,” Jake said as they entered the warmth of the bar.

“First, this is the real deal,” Alec said. “Plus, we’re not going to run into anybody from Providence here.”

It took two seconds for Jake to spot the two girls sitting at a nearby table, empty seats beside them.

“Well, nobody except her,” Alec said.

“We’ve been waiting here for an hour,” Laila greeted them, standing up and smiling at Jake as if he knew what she was talking about.

Alec grinned at Jake. He gave the dark-haired, shapely stranger a hug and said a few words in her ear, then introduced her.

“Jake, this is Gabrielle, who I told you about.”

Jake let out a laugh at Alec’s bravado and shook hands with the girl with dark eyes and eyeliner and pouty lips.

“Been awhile,” Laila said, slinking up to him and sliding her arms around him.

“Hi,” Jake said, his eyes unable to help themselves from gliding over Laila as he followed her to the table.

She wore a black skirt with heels that made her as tall as he was and legs that just kept going. A fuzzy white sweater looked snug around her lean figure. Her crystal eyes followed him as he sat down next to her.

“I’ll get us some drinks,” Alec said. “Jake—what do you want?”

He gave Alec a look that said
I want an explanation
. Alec returned it with a glance that said
You’re going to have fun tonight
.

“Get me a beer. You pick.”

Alec asked the girls and then went away, giving Jake a chance to find out what in the world was going on.

“So, Jake, you go to Providence, huh?”

Jake nodded at Gabrielle.

“I just met Alec the other day when I was visiting Laila. We told him you guys should come downtown and hang out for a while.”

“You live down here?”

Gabrielle already looked a little loaded. She giggled at Jake’s comment and rolled her eyes. “Of course. Else it’d be a long commute to school.”

“Where’s school again?”

“University of Chicago. I’m a junior.”

“I met Gabrielle at a party downtown a year ago,” Laila said, detailing how they started hanging out with each other after that night.

Alec came back with something for everyone, including a round of shots.

“Good thing we’re not driving back to Summit,” Alec said, making a toast with the tequila.

Jake downed his and bit on the lime and then looked at Laila. She gently rubbed her red lips and then licked them, smiling at Jake’s glance.

“I love tequila,” she said.

And I’m in trouble
, Jake thought.

“Thanks for telling me about the double date,” Jake said as they walked back to the Jeep a couple hours and a dozen drinks later.

“You’re welcome,” Alec said, almost in his own world. “You can thank me tomorrow.”

“Why didn’t you just tell me?”

Alec cursed. “You’d say no.”

“And why’s that?”

“Because of your recent bad attitude toward me,” Alec said,
then adding, “and because of your high school crush on the little princess.”

Jake cursed back at Alec. “Laila’s a head case.”

“Yeah, but she’s a hot head case. You see her tonight? She really did it up for you, man. She’s looking good.”

Jake couldn’t argue.

“Plus,” Alec continued, “I just wanted to get you away from college. Just you and me, like old times.”

In the Jeep, the heater on full blast but only blowing out cold air, Jake kept the conversation going, his mind floating now after the continuous rounds of shots.

“Do you really wonder why I’ve been so annoyed? Just answer this: why’d you disappear?”

“I had my reasons. It was nothing to do with you.”

Alec drove down the side streets, looking at the directions Gabrielle had given him to her apartment.

“Then what was it all about?”

“What’d you want? A good-bye note?”

“A heads-up maybe.”

Alec shook his head and looked straight ahead.

“It’s like—we almost died that night, Alec. And I don’t even remember a bit of it. Do you? I never even got to ask you. You were gone the next day.”

“I just know we were driving to get a burrito,” Alec said, humor on his face.

“That’d be nice on a tombstone.
Jake Rivers. Died from an early morning craving for a burrito.”

“Yeah, that and six hours of steady drinking.”

“I just want to know—”

“What?” Alec hurled back. “What do you want to know?”

“It just would’ve been nice, you know—just to let us—to let me—know where you went.”

“I went to Florida to see my mom. Okay? Enough info for you?”

It wasn’t, but Jake figured it was the best he was going to get.

“Here we are,” Alec said. “Now we have to find a parking spot.”

“My buzz is going down.”

“I’ve got a little something for that.”

Jake wondered for a minute what he was talking about, then understood. Everything was happening too fast, and for a minute he felt out of his body, out of control, out of hand.

“It’ll be all right, man,” Alec said with a smile. “It might be a long night ahead. You need to have some energy.”

Alec laughed, and it wasn’t the sort of laugh that made Jake want to do the same.

It was the sort of laugh that frightened him.