Breathless 4 (Breathless #4) (7 page)

I was trembling. I tried to call Johnny a third time;
this time it went straight to voicemail. His phone was off. I didn’t know what
to do. I knew I had to talk to him and soon, but I couldn’t imagine how I was
going to find him on the campus. I remembered everything he had said to me
about the situation, I remembered how he had cried. I remembered that he blamed
himself for what had happened to Claire. Wasn’t it bad enough that he was
taking the blame for something he didn’t even do, that he was carrying around
the pain of what had happened to a girl he loved?

I started to feel angry. This was all because of my
parents and their stupid private investigator, I knew it was; if they had just
left well enough alone, Johnny wouldn’t be getting hounded and wouldn’t have to
relive the whole terrible situation. He might actually live in peace. I had
already told my mom off; I found myself picking up my phone again and finding
my dad’s number in my contacts. I hit the call icon before I could even
hesitate and rethink what I was doing.

“What’s going on, sweetie?” Dad said the moment the
call connected.

“How could you?” I shouted. “How could you do this to
him?”

“What do you mean, Becky? What are you talking about?”
I nearly screamed in frustration.

“What am I talking about? You and mom hiring some
incompetent private investigator to look into Johnny’s past, that’s what I’m
talking about.”

“Sweetie, slow down. What’s going on?” I took a deep
breath, realizing that I couldn’t keep up the momentum of my rapidly-escalating
anger forever.

“A bunch of news companies are writing about Johnny
being involved in — in that terrible mess with Claire White — all because your
stupid private investigator dug into him. Johnny had nothing to do with that.”

“How do you know, Becky? If the private investigator
was able to turn something up, that’s a real cause for concern. Your mother and
I are really worried about you with that boy.”

“Why didn’t you think to ask me about it? Why not ask
Johnny? Why not do anything other than drag out a tragedy that he still blames
himself for and get him into a huge mess with the whole fucking world?”

“Becky, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“What I’m talking about is that Johnny wasn’t even
there when that attack happened. He’d left the party. He came back for Claire
when he got a picture from one of the other guys. He testified against them! He
went against his friends because he really loved that girl. And now — now he’s
going to have to go through all of this all over again.”

“If there’s nothing going on with him, then the
investigation will be closed and he’ll be able to go back to his life. I think
you’re overreacting, sweetie.”

“No I’m not! If — if Mom had killed herself and there
was nothing you could do to save her, and someone brought it all back and made
you live through it all over again, how the hell would you feel?”

“Becky, you don’t know if what he told you was even
the truth.”

“I know it is, Dad. I talked to him; did you? No. You
and Mom are both willing to believe anything bad about anyone if they’re not
rich. How many of the boys you tried to fob me off on at the country club do
you think have raped girls? I can tell you — there’s probably at least a dozen
of them! But because Johnny isn’t rich and because you think I’m too stupid to
have any sense at all, you hired some jackass to dredge up everything he ever might
have done.”

“Becky, I need you to calm down. Yes, it’s unfortunate
if Johnny is innocent-”

“Unfortunate? I don’t even know how I could ever even
ask him to forgive you for it! I don’t even know if I can ever forgive you for
it. You’re destroying the life of someone I love and trust, all because you
think that money is the most important thing in life and that your own daughter
doesn’t have the sense to take care of herself. Johnny has never been anything
but kind, sweet, and gentle to me.”

“But, Becky, honey…”

“No. No, Dad. Did you even notice that Johnny doesn’t
drink? Both times you met him he refused to drink any alcohol, even though you
made it all too easy for him. He doesn’t drink because he blames himself for
what happened to Claire and thinks that the only way he can keep it from
happening to someone else is to not be drunk.” I was shaking, I was so angry — so
anxious. “You did absolutely the worst possible thing you could have done for
absolutely no reason.”

“Becky, I’m sorry, but you have to admit, there’s a
reason.”

“Not if you trust me to make good choices! If you
actually trusted me and thought I had a brain in my head, you wouldn’t have
hired some stupid private investigator that apparently can’t even get his facts
straight.”

“Becky, if you’re not going to calm down, then I’m
going to have to hang up.”

“Don’t bother.” I hit the end call icon and let my
phone fall onto the desk. I sat back, trembling, anger still rushing through
me, adrenaline making my heart race, and I started to cry. I cried for Johnny,
who had to go through all of this again — alone. I cried for myself because if
I couldn’t forgive my parents for bringing this onto him, how would he ever be
able to forgive me? It was my fault, through my parents, that this was happening.
If I hadn’t brought him to meet them, if I had stood firm and just kept him to
myself, none of this mess would be on his doorstep again.

After a while I was completely exhausted from crying
and yelling at my father. I washed my face and decided that I was going to try
Johnny again. Maybe he had only turned off his phone because he was in class.
Maybe he was just busy. Maybe his phone had died. I dried my face off and tried
his number again — it went straight to voicemail. I bit my bottom lip, trying
to think of where on campus he could possibly be.

Georgia offered to come with me to look for Johnny,
but I told her I was fine; I didn’t want to have to tell her to go away if and
when I found
him
and we needed to talk, and I doubted
that Johnny would feel comfortable talking about the situation with someone he
was only acquaintances with listening in. I went downstairs and tried to decide
where I should go to first.

I went to the library; I knew that Johnny wasn’t there
very often, but I thought that if he was trying to avoid people, that would be
as good a place as any to hole up. I walked across campus and as I passed by
little groups of people, I heard a few of them whispering as soon as they saw
me, saw them pointing — a few of them laughing. I clenched my teeth and kept
going. It wasn’t worth it to try and confront any of them about it; they were
going to talk, they were going to whisper. I would have to put up with it. I
could only imagine what Johnny was going through. After all, if they whispered
and laughed at me just for dating him with this rumor out about him, what were
people saying to him?

I couldn’t find him in the library. I wracked my mind.
He couldn’t be in classes; he didn’t have any this late in the afternoon. He
could be practicing, he could be in the gym. I moved in that direction and kept
my gaze straight in front of me as I passed by more people who either giggled
or whispered or went absolutely silent and tense as soon as I was in their
vision. As soon as I found Johnny, I’d be able to focus on him. I’d be able to
talk to him about this, comfort him if he needed me to, hug him and tell him
that I knew the truth and that I trusted him absolutely. I hated how miserable
I knew he must be feeling. I hated the fact that I knew that even once his name
was cleared, this would continue to haunt him for weeks or months to come.

The gym had about half of the school’s teams in it,
and I tried to be as unobtrusive as possible as I moved through the space,
looking for Johnny. I thought that it was possible — probable, even — that he
might have retreated here to work out, to distract himself from what was going
on in the mess that his life had suddenly become once more. I asked a few of
the guys lifting weights if they knew where Johnny was, if he had been in the
gym any time recently. “Nah, he hasn’t been here. Haven’t seen him all day,”
one of them said, while another suggested he might be in the dining hall.

I couldn’t imagine any other place that Johnny would
less want to be — it wasn’t like people would keep their mouths shut around him
if they were willing to chatter about it around me. I was feeling uncomfortable
just passing by the little groups of people who happened to be on the walkway.
I couldn’t imagine how it would be to be surrounded by people, all of them
staring at and talking about you, while you were trying to eat. But it was the
only lead I had.

I went to the dining hall, just as I had before when I
was looking for Johnny; I managed to hold myself free of panic long enough to
get permission to duck into the dining area to look around. I didn’t mention
who I was looking for, but it was impossible to think that no one would have
had any idea. I kept my face neutral as I went through the line, as I wandered
into the dining area. Everywhere I went there were
either
giggles and
whispers or people went dead silent and looked at me in
shock as if they hadn’t expected to see me, as if I was a ghost. I looked
around as quickly as I possibly could, feeling like I was wasting my time. I
was starting to get frustrated. There was only one other place I could think
of
to look for Johnny.

I left the dining hall with my heart racing. I tried
calling Johnny again; again there was no answer. If I couldn’t find him at the
frat house, then I had no idea where he could possibly be. I would have to hope
that he would take a moment to call me. I felt miserable, wanting reassurance
from the man I wanted to comfort and reassure myself. It was selfish of me. But
I was starting to lose my mind with worry for him. I had seen him crying the
night before; I had seen how much it had affected him just to remember what had
happened to Claire. I couldn’t have any way of knowing just how hard he was
taking the current situation, how difficult it was on him, but I could imagine
that it would be much, much harder, and more upsetting, to have to deal with it
from people who didn’t love him.

I was starting to get tired; my legs were starting to
ache from walking back and forth across campus after the crying and shouting
and fighting. But I had to go to the Phi Kappa house and at least see if Johnny
was there.
God, what if he doesn’t want
to talk to me? What if he doesn’t want to see me?
I could understand it if
Johnny blamed me for what was happening to him now; I blamed myself, I blamed
my parents. Any other girl he could have dated, could have fallen in love with,
probably wouldn’t have caused him as much trouble as I did, all because my stupid
parents hadn’t been able to trust me.

As I caught sight of the row of houses belonging to
the school’s fraternities and sororities, I felt a wave of relief. If Johnny
wouldn’t see me, at least I might be able to pass a message to one of his
brothers to give to him. If he was in the frat house, at least I would know he
was okay. I would know where he was. I could wait to hear from him, if I only
knew that he was okay.

I made my way down the sidewalk, thinking hopefully
that Johnny had never given me any reason to think he’d push me away now. Even
when I had insisted on the story, even when things had been the bleakest, he
had been willing to let me in and let me comfort him. I barely noticed a group
of girls up ahead, walking towards another one of the frat houses. They weren’t
important; getting to Johnny was important.

I heard one of them say something — I couldn’t make
out what — and then they all turned to look at me, stopping in their tracks. I
went to ask them to move out of my way when I realized that one of the girls
was the same one from the dining hall, the same one who had flashed her boobs
at Johnny at the game, who had tried to poison me against him. “Going to see
your rapist boyfriend?” she asked, giving me a wicked, cruel smile.

“Where I’m going is none of your business,” I said,
keeping my voice as neutral as possible.

“So, how do you like Johnny boy now? Once he’s had
enough of you, he’ll probably pass you on to one of his frat brothers — hell,
maybe he’ll let them all take a ride!” The other girls laughed.

“Oh God, she probably loves that idea. She’ll probably
cry for him to make it even better.”

“Rapist fucker!” one of the other girls called out. My
heart pounded in my chest and I felt my eyes stinging with tears.

“Well, you must feel great, too,” I said, swallowing
down the lump that was forming in my throat. “I mean, you’re the one who was
just hanging on his every word, flashing your tits at him during the game.
What’s worse than being me? Being the girl he doesn’t even want!” I turned
quickly as the girls gaped and barely glanced over my shoulder to see them
walking away, murmuring amongst themselves. I didn’t want to lend any credence
to what they had said, but I couldn’t just sit there and take it for them, especially
the redhead who’d already tried so hard to ruin my relationship — to call me
names, to make fun of Johnny.

I climbed up onto the front porch, my hands still
shaking, and took a deep breath. I couldn’t hear anything going on inside the
frat; as far as the silence told me, there might not be anyone inside at all. I
wondered just how the brothers were handling the situation. Did they believe
Johnny? Or were they even now deciding to kick him out? I lifted my hand up and
knocked on the door quickly. I looked like a total mess and I knew it. Part of
me wished that I had taken at least a moment to straighten myself up before
coming. But somehow I didn’t think that Johnny was going to care that much
about how I looked. If he wanted to see me at all, if he wasn’t in there
blaming me for his current circumstances, he would just be happy that I was
there.