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“You should go,” he says.
Nate has spotted us. He’s about thirty feet away—close enough that I see him go still.
I think if I were closer, I’d see fear in his eyes.
“You’ll get expelled. ”
My hand is over West’s galloping heart. I’m not sure he can even hear me, and I’ve already had enough of not being heard today. My dad, the dean of students, the residence-life supervisor who sat in on the meeting—none of them really listened. And now West.
“Get out of here, Caroline. ”
He’s pushing past me, moving steadily down the hall toward his prey, and I’m certain— certain that West isn’t going to hit Nate. No, he’s going to beat him until someone pulls him off. He’s going to put Nate in the hospital. Maybe even kill him.
I guess I should be worried for West, or for Nate even, but I’m not. Figuring out what’s about to happen doesn’t scare me. It ticks me off.
West has peed on this particular tree already. Twice.
I grab a fistful of the back of his T-shirt and yank on it. Fabric rips. West whirls around.
“This is my fight,” I tell him. “Mine. Not yours. ”
“Get out of here if you don’t want to see this. ”
“Do you hear yourself? This isn’t an action movie. Knock it off. ”
“Let go of my shirt. ”
“It won’t help anything, West. You’ll just get in trouble, maybe go to jail, and then I won’t have you and I’ll still have to deal with this. It won’t help. ”
He tries to get my hand off his shirt, but I’ve got a good grip. So he just takes his shirt off. Right there in the basement of the student center, he whips off his shirt and stalks down the hallway toward Nate.
I drop my bag and run.
I never got very good at rugby, but I learned a few things about tackling before the season ended. None of them has anything to do with this graceless tumble into West. I collide with the backs of his thighs, get my hands around his knees, slide down to his ankles.
I’m tenacious, though. I don’t let go. If he wants to fight Nate, he’ll have to drag me along behind him. I’ll cling to his back like a baby monkey. It won’t be dignified, but I don’t care.
“Caroline, for Christ’s sake. ”
Author: Robin York
“I’m not letting go. ”
Hands on his hips, he glares at Nate, who’s smirking now. He really does deserve to get punched in the nose.
But that’s neither here nor there. I made my feelings about violence clear when I puked in West’s toilet. I don’t like it. I don’t want it. I didn’t ask for it.
“Get off me,” West says. “This is between me and him. ”
“No, it’s not. ”
“He called the cops on me. ”
“And that was one move in a longer war, and the war is about me, and I say no. No fighting. I hate it. It doesn’t fix anything. It just gives you an excuse to let off steam, which isn’t fair, anyway. I mean, I’ve got steam, too, and I don’t get to punch people. ” I look up at West, arms around his ankles, pleading with him. “I get that you’re frustrated, okay? I get it. You’re mad. You want to fix this for me. But you can’t fix this for me. All you can do is make it worse. ”
I can see the moment when it sinks in. Maybe not what I’m saying so much as the fact that I’m practically laid out on the floor, tangled up in his legs. He’s not going to accomplish anything this way.
Nate sees it, too. He walks in to Student Affairs without another glance.
