Finals (15 page)

“
Damn!”

“
What is it, bro?” Harvey said, moving closer to my open backpack.

Quick as a bunny, I scooped the white pills off the ground, twisted off the cap on my baby size bottle of FIJI water and tossed in the pills.

“
It’s nothing,” I said, as I zipped my backpack up.

Standing up with the bottle of water in hand, I pulled my cell out of my pocket to check the time again.

“
Dude, you need to take this now before Selina gets here. You gotta give it a few minutes to work,” I said, pretending as if time were of the essence.

Thinking with his smaller head, as he had always done, Harvey removed the little blue pills from the sample pack and swallowed them down with a nice refreshing miniature bottle of FIJI water.

With one final gulp, Harvey downed all the FIJI water before chucking the bottle in the nearest trashcan.

“
That tasted a little funky.”

Avoiding the urge to spill my guts, I thought it best to see this thing through to completion. In case the combination wasn’t instantly fatal, I wanted to steer clear of any physical altercations. I could take the little prick down, no question but leaving bruises or injuries of any kind may lead one to view his death as more than an untimely accident. An idea I wished to dispel from any coroner’s head.

“
You caught me, I just jizzed in there before giving it to you. Dog, it’s FIJI water, that’s how it tastes.”

Slinging my pack over my shoulder, I couldn’t help but let a nasty little smile out. How easy was it to trick this douche bag? By acting less articulate and throwing a ‘dude, bro or dog’ into every sentence along with a few additional expletives, I had convinced his dolt to take some Viagra then down it with some flavored water, the flavor being nitroglycerin.

“
Fuck you, bro. Unlike you, someone is really gonna down my jizz in a couple minutes,” Harvey said.

I let out a fake laugh. “Good luck, you perv,” I said, as I walked over to the elevator and pushed the down button. With a light ping, the elevator doors opened and I stepped inside. As I pressed the button to the first floor, I believed I may have heard a weak, “Bro,” followed by a thud but I couldn’t be sure.

Chapter Fourteen

A
rare text from Hayley woke me up at some ungodly hour the following morning.

“
There’s been another murder!!!”

Setting my phone back on the nightstand, I rolled back over, pulling the covers above my head. One day. I couldn’t enjoy myself for one stinking day. I couldn’t bask in glorious irony for managing to kill a revolting rapist with a drug used to cure erectile dysfunction. Considering I concocted this diabolic scheme in mere hours, it was quite the accomplishment.

I wasn’t under the impression my deed would go unnoticed. Obviously, a student or faculty member on the fourth floor of Franz Hall was bound to stumble across Harvey’s body eventually. However, I assumed I could sleep in the next morning, then carelessly stroll over to the university before hearing about the tragic mishap. Like Heath Ledger and others before him, Harvey’s death would be labeled as another dreadful accident. The St. Elizabeth community would mourn the poor boy, alongside his friends and family, but nothing more would come of it. Leaving no evidence behind, accusations of murder appeared hard to come by. Apparently, I was mistaken.

The lone thorn in my side continued to aggravate me, like a scab unwilling to heal. This perky perfectionist who unfortunately happened to be my ex-lover, was not about to let me enjoy one iota of pleasure. The days of sleeping in, my big spoon to her little spoon, were but a distant memory. If this text was any indication, she was now a morning person content on keeping me forever miserable.

I tried to fall back into a peaceful slumber but Hayley prevented me. Her text message made me believe that the police were busy gathering evidence, dusting for prints, or looking for strands of hair. Had the police found anything? Did I leave anything behind? I could already see myself in prison. I was going to get pounded harder than Emeril Lagasse’s chicken.

As my mind continued to wander, thoughts of my impending jail sentence were replaced with memories of Hayley. I began to think back to the good old days when Hayley and I cuddled complacently on this very bed, not daring to get up until the sun was high overhead. I hated her. I really hated her, and yet she had this divine quality, or as Hayley would put it, a certain
je ne sais quoi.
A charming persona encased in a beautiful frame, this woman who had caused me an insurmountable amount of heartache was near impossible to erase from my memory. Still as I tossed and turned restlessly under my blankets, I continued to think about her. I couldn’t stand it!

I pulled myself out of bed a few minutes later knowing my efforts to fall back asleep were futile. I didn’t know which thought was worse, thinking the police had discovered a piece of evidence that would lock my ass in jail for a long time to come, or realizing I still wasn’t able to get over Hayley Summers. Both were certainly depressing.

I threw on my clothes quickly and then made a compulsory trip to a local coffee joint before venturing to the newsroom to see if I still had any breathing room.

When I stepped foot on campus, coffee in hand, very few people were out and about. The early risers were in class or studying in the library, while sane students were still snoozing. The campus was a barren wasteland as I walked by the Round Table, Buckley Center, then the library as I made my way to the newsroom in St. Mary’s Hall.

It wasn’t until I was walking up the steps to St. Mary’s that I saw another soul. I practically crashed into my favorite, jovial priest as he darted from the doors.

“
Good morning
,
Father!” What brings you to St. Mary’s?” I asked.

“
Dire news I’m afraid
,
Wayne, my boy,” the priest answered glumly with an unfamiliar frown on his face. “Our fellow Andrews Hall alumni, Mr. Cho passed away last evening thanks to an accidental drug overdose. A police officer informed me
of
the incident this morning.”

“
How terrible!” I exclaimed, pretending this was news to my ears.

“
Indeed. Sister Robinson and I regrettably have planned out the poor chap’s funeral service.”

“
When will that take place?” I asked, again faking an interest in Harvey’s death. Whatever time Harvey’s service was to take place, I’m sure a sudden unforeseen event would take precedence.

“
Mr. Cho’s service will take place in the Chapel of Christ the Teacher this coming Thursday afternoon. I believe Sister Robinson wants you to write his obituary, so you can mention the upcoming service in this week’s
Gazette.
”

“
Oh, sounds like I better get in there and get to work. Have a good day
,
Father.”

“
Have a pleasant day as well, my boy. I am positive if Mr. Cho’s obituary is as well-written as Mr. Crane’s then Sister Robinson will surely be pleased,” Father O’Connor said with a smile before proceeding down the stairs.

Passing the two small offices, I reached the third and rapped lightly on the door. Sister Robinson was busily typing away at her desk when I popped my head in.

“
Good morning, Sister Robinson. I heard from Father O’Connor you are in need of my services.”

“
Yes Wayne, please come in and sit down,” Sister Robinson said, as she worked to finish the email she was writing, her tired eyes straining to read the screen.

Despite her usual energetic persona, the nun seemed bushed. Dark circles were visible under her eyes and her typical neat hair was disheveled. These deaths were taking a toll on the poor old woman.

After tapping her mouse twice, Sister Robinson looked up from her computer monitor. “Yes Wayne, I would like for you to write Harvey Cho’s obituary. I believe your bare-bones style of writing is precisely what we need.”

“
Ah,” I said nodding my head, not knowing whether or not I should accept the remark as a compliment.

“
Don’t think that I’m saying your style of writing is sub-par, Wayne. On the contrary, some stories such as this one are meant to be cut and dry. You see the girls, especially Hayley tend to add tremendous detail in their articles, in order to obtain another level of depth. The reader becomes more engaged, meaning he or she will care more about the piece and ask more questions.”

I was beginning to look pass the nun’s weariness as her passive aggressive insults were now trying my nerves. I wasn’t that horrible of a writer, or else there’s no way I would have been promoted to my current position. It was true, Hayley could paint a picture with words that I could not, but maybe that wasn’t such a terrible thing. I was no Dan Brown, but maybe more the Dan Rather. A descriptive article should be passionate, exciting even. An overview of an event, like the nightly news was intended to state facts without providing great amounts of detail. Maybe Sister Robinson wanted a concise obituary instead of a legendary life tale.

“
We want this to be a brief, to-the-point article I’m assuming. We don’t want our readers to ask questions about Harvey’s death, right?” I asked, beginning to understand the nun’s thought process.

“
In this case, no, Wayne we don’t. Harvey died in a less than dignified manner, and I don’t want
details
about his death slipping out on campus. Victoria is too brash. She would slander the dead, and as you know, Hayley has been gnawing at the bit to divulge information about Brent Crane’s death. I have a feeling she may concoct a similar conspiracy theory about Harvey’s death.”

“
May I ask how Harvey died? Is there any reason to believe Harvey’s death may not have been an accident? Not that I’m going to write up any notions of murder,” I added, letting out a fake laugh.

“
As I mentioned, Harvey Cho’s body was not found under pristine conditions, thus discretion and maturity would be appreciated.”

“
Yeah, of course,” I replied. “I promise I will not go into much detail about his death or how his body was discovered.”

“
Very well,” Sister Robinson said, pausing briefly to collect herself. “Dean Levitt found Harvey’s body right in front of the elevator this morning. She was quite shocked when the doors of the elevator opened, because Harvey’s body was no less than four inches away. Harvey was found with one hand down his pants. The coroner arrived to pick up the body an hour after the discovery. He concluded Harvey’s death was likely caused by an accidental combination with a drug such as Viagra or Cialis and this medicine used to help patients suffering from heart failure. The coroner believed the blood in Harvey’s body was pumping so rapidly his heart couldn’t withstand the pressure. The body was found with no bruises or marks of any kind and he stated that this lethal combination is not uncommon, but it mostly occurs with older men. The case is not closed, but at this point, it is being ruled an accidental overdose.”

It took everything I possessed not to crack a smile. I could see the headline now, “
Campus Rapist Dies, Dick in Hand”
or “
Campus Pervert Dies from Erectile Dysfunction: Ex-Girlfriends not Surprised
.” If only the world knew this little slime ball actually molested inebriated Asian girls while filming himself doing the sticky icky. I deserved to be high-fived, congratulated or praised. I’d even take a hot fudge sundae. A feat of this magnitude merited an award, but sadly, that was not going to happen. In reality, I would be forced to sugarcoat this prick’s life, giving off the impression he wasn’t half bad. I’d say he was a class act, a swell guy, and a model student – none of which was true.

Along those same lines, no one was aware of my inner darkness. No one knew I had visited Father O’Connor’s apartment and silently taken his heart medication when he was in the can before placing the two white pills in my Tic-Tac container and rushing over to Franz Hall.

From there I tricked the horny moron into taking two blue pills, then following them down with nitroglycerin flavored FIJI water. I imagined Harvey sprawled out near the elevator clutching his three-inch boner moaning my name.

“
Again, Wayne please don’t mention the specifics, only state that Harvey died from an accidental drug combination,” the nun stated, interrupting the delusional articles I was writing in my head.

“
Certainly,” I replied. God forbid I damage that asshole’s reputation.