Chapter One

Veronica

"I've got a lizard and I named it Macarena."

"I don't think that those are the words."

"I keep him in my pocket when I visit Pennsylvania."

"I'm certain that those aren't the words."

"Come to my house and feed flies to Macarena."

"You're just making things up as you go along."

"Heeeeeeey, Macarena!"

I shook my head as Javi shimmied dramatically and started performing a rendition of the dance moves associated with the actual version of that song that would have made even the astonishingly liberated woman the song was about blush. I debated how racist it would sound if I told him that as a gay Latino man I would expect him to know the song better, then changed tracks.

"You do know what that song is about, right?" I asked.

Javi looked at me, not pausing his dancing. The building hosting the Welcome Week party I was dreading attending had appeared in the distance and I could hear the throwback music thudding even louder around us.

"A lizard named Macarena with a limited diet who enjoys historically significant vacation opportunities?"

"A girl named Macarena who cheats on her boyfriend with two of his friends when he is out of town joining the army."

Javi immediately stopped dancing. He glared at me with the pain and fury of a thousand broken 90s-baby dreams in his eyes.

"Excuse me?" he said, all the sparkle gone from his voice.

I held my hands up and shrugged.

"That's just what I heard."

"From what?"

"A combination of the English version of the song and one poorly monitored Spanish class presentation I witnessed in high school."

Javi continued to glare at me as he reached into his pocket, fighting to pull his phone out of his incredibly tight pants. It was a somewhat humbling realization I had come to in recent months that when other girls talked about wanting to get in their male roommates' pants it meant something entirely different than when I said it. I wasn't one to make my size a concern of my daily thoughts, but Javi's pink velvet Easter jeans would forever hang on the closet door of my mind as my goal pants.

I watched as a group of people fully dressed in their nostalgic regalia passed us, laughing as they tried to remember the words to the Cranberries song that was now streaming through the night air. They seemed to be having much more success with this than Javi had. He had managed to get the phone out of his shimmering black jeans and was making distinctly aggressive movements with his finger across the screen. Finally, he forced the phone back into his pocket.

"Son of a bitch," he said, stomping away.

I laughed as he held his chin high against the bitter disappointment that he had just faced and disappeared into the crowd ahead of me. I wasn't sure if he thought that he was making a statement by stomping away without me or if when I found him at the party he would be in mid-sentence, thinking that I was right there with him the entire time. It was hard to tell with Javi sometimes.

It seemed that nearly everyone was at the party already and I started along the dark sidewalk again. I had only taken a few steps when I felt something hard dig into my side. The sound of a scream died in my throat and I felt my breath catch in my lungs. My feet felt cemented to the sidewalk and I couldn't move. Hot, stale breath brushed along my neck and across my face as a head came down to settle close to my ear.

"Put your hands up," a growling voice muttered.

Bitter, brutal memories burst in my mind and before I realized what I was doing, I whirled around to protect myself, the heel of my hand crushing up into the nose of the man behind me. He let out a gurgling grunt as the person beside him, who I could now see was a woman no older than me, gasped, her hands coming up to her mouth to muffle her scream. I looked down at the figure now sprawled on the sidewalk in front of me and noticed a strange green light beside him. As my mind cleared and I felt myself coming back into the moment of reality rather than the terror of my memories, I realized that it was a glow stick. That had been what was burrowed into my side, not a knife, not a weapon. I lifted my eyes to the man's face and realized that I recognized it. It was Louis, a guy I barely knew, one who had dated a girl in my modern dance class the year before. He had wanted an immediate friendship, but the intensity of his personality and propensity toward outbursts and outrageous behavior made me want to keep him at a distance.

He looked up at me, the blood trickling down his face, and I felt my heart pound so hard that it hurt and my stomach turned. Spots danced in front of my eyes and the dizziness returned. I could hear both Louis and the girl's voices swirling around me as they shouted, but I couldn't decipher the words. I didn't know if they were shouting at me or at each other. I couldn't even tell any longer if they were still there with me. I couldn't see anything but color blurring my vision and my breath was coming in hard, painful gasps. I tried to stay on my feet. I tried to bring myself back under control, pushing away the thoughts and memories, and not letting them affect me anymore. But I couldn't. Hearing nothing but the blood rushing through my veins now, I felt my body go weak and I dropped to the sidewalk. I curled my knees to my chest and rested my forehead down on them, wrapping my arms around myself as if it would somehow protect me. I drew in deep breaths, trying to calm myself, trying to stop the shaking throughout my body. I hated the reaction. I hated myself for allowing it to happen.

"Get away from her!"

The words cut through the fog, a different voice now, but I didn't lift my head. I felt someone touch my shoulder and I withdrew from the touch. Instead of stepping away, though, the person touched slightly harder, as if insisting that I acknowledge the presence. I thought that it might be Louis, wanting to make amends, but I heard the different voice again.

"Are you alright?"

Hearing it again made the voice sound more familiar and I felt confident enough to take my head up from my knees and look at him. His dark eyes seared into mine and I felt like they drew the fear out of me and replaced it with a steadiness that allowed me to take his hand and stand. My breath trembled slightly as I let it out of my lungs, but I drew in another and felt the fog clear. I looked into his eyes again. I couldn't believe that it was him standing there. It had been more than a year since I had been this close to him, though he had been in my thoughts much more recently.

"Thank you, Professor Ford," I said.

"Are you alright, Veronica?" he asked again, more insistently now as if he needed me to give him verbal acknowledgment.

The sound of my name on his lips was rich and smoky. I was used to everyone calling me Ronnie and hearing my full name in his voice made my heart tremble in a different way than it had been. I nodded again.

"Yes," I said. "I'm fine. I'm sorry."

"You don't need to apologize. What happened?"

I looked around and noticed that Louis and the woman he had been with were gone. The glow stick still lay on the sidewalk and I turned away from it sharply.

"I'm just overreacting."

The sound of the tears was obvious in my voice and Professor Ford obviously heard it. He rested his hand securely in the center of my back, touching me without hesitation, and started guiding me away from the sidewalk.

"Come with me," he said.

I allowed him to lead me away from the sidewalk and toward the nearby academic building that housed most of the University's Humanities courses. He brought me into the building and into the single elevator on the main floor. I was very aware of his presence in the small space, but kept my eyes focused ahead. This was the same feeling that I had had throughout the semester my sophomore year when I took his seminar. From the moment that I first saw him I felt drawn to him, like a wire kept me tethered to him, unable to pull away and yet unable to get closer. Though he taught the seminar that fascinated me the most so far in my university career, the attraction to him had made the course a struggle. I felt like I had clawed my way to the A that I got and stepping out of that class the final day was like being released from a hold that had threatened to consume me. That feeling had lingered with me and I had purposely not signed up for any more of his classes, not wanting to feel that again, not trusting myself to.

Now I was near him again and I could feel the same almost helpless attraction building. The elevator opened and I followed Professor Ford to his office. He gestured for the chair across from him at his desk and I sat down. I expected him to take the chair on the other side of the desk, but instead, he perched on the corner. He was close to me, near enough that it almost seemed I could feel the warmth radiating from him.

"What happened tonight, Veronica?" he asked.

He was looking directly into my eyes, seeming not to focus on anything but me.

"It was just a misunderstanding," I said.

I didn't want to answer him. Now that I was separated from the situation, away from the sidewalk and in the light of the office, I felt ridiculous for my reaction. It had been so many years. I had had so much time to let this go, and yet now that I looked down at my hands shaking in my lap and the streaks of blood across my skin, my stomach was turning.

"It didn't look like a misunderstanding," he said.

"It was just a bad joke. He put the glow stick in my side and told me to put my hands up. It startled me, that's all."

Professor Ford looked down at my hands and then leaned back to reach into his top drawer. He came back with a wipe and I remembered seeing him wipe his hands off with them in class. He reached down to take my hands into one of his, settling them into his palm. He stared at them as he ran the wipe across them, removing the blood.

"That seems like a pretty shitty joke."

I was startled by the statement, but I had to admit that it was a fairly good summation of the situation.

"I agree," I said.

"What were you doing out there?" he asked.

I shook my head.

"I don't even know," I said. "Javi, my roommate, insisted that we go to the Welcome Week parties."

"Aren't those usually for freshmen?"

I sighed.

"Yes," I said. "And that's exactly what I told Javi. But he insisted that since our senior year starts next week we need to fit in as many college experiences as we possibly can. Besides, he has a weakness for nostalgia and when he heard that the theme for tonight was a throwback night, he couldn't resist. Somehow he roped me into going with him."

"Where was he when that guy was playing his little joke?"

Professor Ford sounded defensive, almost angry, and I immediately wanted to deflect it.

"He had gone ahead," I said. "He was upset about a song…" I shook my head, deciding that there wasn't any real point in trying to explain that whole situation to him. "He had gone on ahead to the party. He was only gone for a minute when Louis came up."

"You knew him?"

I nodded.

"Kind of. He dated a girl I danced with. I think that's what scared me the most. He wasn't someone I was familiar with and even when you do know someone...you just never know."

I felt like I had already said too much.

He paused for a few moments, still staring down at my hands, and I felt the intense need to get out of the room. He wanted me to tell him what had happened, but those were my memories, memories I wasn't willing to share. I stood, taking my hands from his.

"I need to go find Javi," I said. "He might not have noticed that I'm gone yet, but that means he might be dancing with random people."

I tried to laugh, trying to seem dismissive, but he continued to stare at me, his expression unchanging. I thanked him again and walked out of the office, not letting myself glance back over my shoulder at him though I wanted to. I could feel his eyes still on me, following me until I turned the corner and got back into the elevator. Leaning back against the cool wall, I drew in a breath.

The stretch between the Humanities building and the student commons where the party was being held seemed even darker as I stood at the door, readying myself to step out. I knew that I was safe. I knew that there was no one watching me, even though I always felt eyes on me. I knew there was no one following me, even though my mind created phantom footsteps wherever I went. My hand rested on the handle of the door and I forced my mind to think of what that stretch of campus looked like during the day. I had seen it countless times before, walking through it nearly every day for the last three years. This was the heart of the campus, the center of a spoke layout that allowed students to gather at the central commons for studying, food, and activities, and then spread out throughout the rest of the campus buildings for their classes.

I had never felt unsafe crossing the campus during the day. I wasn't going to allow myself to now. I pushed the door open and stepped out into the muggy August air. The sound of the music was fainter here, but I forced myself to focus in on it, allowing it to create a path ahead of me that I could follow. My jaw ached from how hard I was gritting my teeth, but I refused to let the thoughts that were still looming in the back of my mind control me any further. I had spent far too much time and energy trying to force those thoughts and memories into the darkest, furthest recesses of my mind. I knew that I wasn't going to be able to rid myself of them. There would never be a time when I wouldn't have those thoughts when I wouldn't have to live with them. But I could contain them. I could dig a place for them in a part of my mind I hoped was far enough from my consciousness that they wouldn't torment me. I had fought to put them there and for them to stay there. They had slipped through long enough to terrify me that night, but I couldn't let it go further. I couldn't give over another night.

Keeping my eyes focused directly ahead of me and my thoughts only on the sound of the music, I crossed through the darkness and back into the lights of the sidewalk and then the glow pouring from the commons. I was nearly there when I was realized that my phone was buzzing in my pocket. I wondered how long it had been ringing and if I simply hadn't noticed it. I pulled it out and looked down at it.

"Hi, Javi," I answered.

The music streaming through the phone was so loud that I could barely hear him.

"Purple drank...drag queen...running."

"Excuse me?"

"Bubble tank...dry clean...running."

Neither option sounds terribly promising.

"I'll be there in a minute."

I tucked my phone back into my pocket and headed toward the building at a slightly faster clip. Once inside, I let my eyes scan over the various parties happening in rooms throughout the building. I used the clues that I might have deciphered from what Javi said to narrow down where he might be. I was climbing the stairs to the upper mezzanine when I saw Javi running past on the opposite side.

At least I got that part right.

He was making his way around the perimeter, so I got to the top of the stairs and waited until he was coming toward me. When he noticed me, he got a look of tremendous relief on his face and reached his arms toward me. I took his hands and pulled him to a stop in front of me.

"What did you do?" I asked.

Javi looked at me like he wanted to be offended, but he had been running too long to really muster up the indignance. My dearest friend had many amazing qualities, but athleticism wasn't one of them.

"What do you mean what did I do? Why do you automatically assume that it was something that I did?"

I looked at him with a slightly tilted head.

"Because I have met you."

Javi glanced over his shoulder, his eyes widened slightly at something I couldn't identify and then grabbed my wrist.

"Come on," he said. "I'll explain it in the Battle of the Boy Bands room."

He dragged me with him through the crowd and into a room brimming with enough sappy angst to make me wish I had a diary just so that I could write a withering entry. I highly doubted that I was going to hear the actual explanation of what had happened before I showed up, or ever really know what he was saying to me on the phone, but I knew that I was safe now. And I was going to have enough fun with Javi to drown the sounds of the screams in the back of my memories.