There was a perfectly good chance that Rodney Junior had grown up into a normal adult without murderous tendencies, but I could hardly listen to a word he said as he led me and my parents around campus. He hadn’t even acknowledged the sling around my arm. Considering he was the boy who’d caused my very first dislocated shoulder, I would have liked at least one little joke in a futile attempt to leave the past behind us.Silly kids, and all that.
Nothing.
The fact that he seemed so normal with his polo shirt and brown loafers just made it harder to believe that he actually was. He could be Yale’s own Patrick Bateman.
“What do you think, Esra?” Dad asked, smiling at something Rodney Junior had said.
“I’m not sure yet,” I said. I had no clue what they were talking about, but sounding critical always seemed to work on the academics.
Rodney beamed, his teeth bleached to the point of glowing blue. “You’re absolutely right to be skeptical. Never trust someone else’s word when you can make up your own mind, right?”
Bingo.
I almost laughed at how easy it was to feign interest as we wandered down the hallways of the School of Public Health. Apparently, Rodney Junior was trying hard to follow in the footsteps of daddy dearest, so he was doing his old man a favor by playing tour guide for us all day.
Yay me.
I was just here because after two weeks of carrying the course catalog around like an alibi when I was really just wallowing, my mother had decided it was now time for me tostart working on my future. I still had zero interest in going back to school. But I figured if I went on one campus tour, I could get my parents to back off with a littlehmm, I’m not sure yetfor another month or so.
The only thing that really stood out to me about Yale was the lack of air conditioning. Sweat slowly trickled down my back and I fanned myself with my brochure as we walked down one long hallway with doors and into another long hallway with doors. Everything about it feltnarrow. It was irrational. All four of us could comfortably walk side by side, but I wanted to clench my shoulders to squeeze through these halls, scared of getting stuck.
“Didn’t you say this was a particularly green campus?” I wasn’t sure if he’d said that, but I doubted he’d admit it if this place was a concrete wasteland.
“I was just getting to that,” Rodney chuckled and winked.
“Yeah, can we get to that now?” The air was disgustingly thick in here.
“Esra!” Mom scolded me under her breath. Easy for her to do. She didn’t look like she was about to melt into a puddle. Maybe Tennessee’s superior air conditioning had absolutely spoiled me.
“Of course,” Rodney replied, completely ignoring my mother, “there’s a beautiful green space right behind the building. The students love sitting outside for lunch or to study in the warmer months.”
“Stop waving that thing around like a madwoman,” Dad hissed at me after Rodney Junior had already set off toward the elevator.
“Aren’t you hot?” I asked, brows raised at the thick suit he was wearing. He’d dressed up more than me. I’d already compromised on a plain white T-shirt after Mom had refused to let me leave the house in the one that said “medical professional” on the front and “ask me about my mouth-to-mouth skills” on the back.
“You’ll cool down outside,” Dad said with the kind of authority that didn’t leave room for protest. Okay then. I’d cool down outside.
Except the green space I had been promised was a glorified strip of grass between a bunch of concrete blocksand a busy street. Cars were honking, somewhere music was playing from a window, and the little bit of lawn there was, was covered by people. They sat a foot or two away from each other at most.
This was not the kind of place you went to get fresh air.
This was the kind of place that you searched for Waldo.
“I think that’s a very nice offer, thank you, RJ,” Mom said and patted Rodney Junior on the arm.
“Hmm?” I raised my brows because three pairs of eyes were trained on me.
“Then it’s a date. Maureen is said to be the next Meryl Streep,” Junior said, still smiling at me.
“Isn’t Meryl Streep still the current Meryl Streep?” I asked, confused.
“Maureen is on the Yale theater program. In the play RJ just invited you to,” Dad pressed the explanation through gritted teeth.
“A play? What about?” I gasped. Why was the air conditioning not working? My lungs felt like they were being wired shut from heat.Oh, right.We were outside.
“It’s a deep look into the human psyche as told through the points of view of consumerist goods.”
“Huh.” I nodded, fanning myself faster. “Any kidnappings? Bank robberies? Something fun?”
