Chapter 11: Jade

Thursday, July 20, 2023

I pulled up to Marcy’s house late Thursday night and stared at it from across the street, the exact spot where I parked when Marcy lived here. I was tired and wanted to sleep, and being here brought back too many uncomfortable emotions.

Opal and I had spent the entire day looking at single-bedroom apartments for her to rent, finally finding a few places she could choose between at her leisure. She had signed an acceptance letter just a few days ago. She would officially be going to school with me in the fall. I couldn’t have been more excited.

Across the road, the lights were still on in the front room of Marcy’s place, but I knocked on the side door out of habit. Phoebe answered. She hugged me. Her hair was longer than the last time I’d seen her. She had worn her blonde hair in a pixie cut for years and was now growing it out. She was only two or three inches taller than me, whereas Diane, who waited behind Phoebe for a hug, towered over me nearly as much as Marcy did.

“It’s been too long, Jade,” Phoebe said. “We’ve missed you.”

“So much, Jade,” Diane said before wrapping me up.

It was so good to see my two adopted moms, as I’d come to think of them over the three years Marcy and I had dated. Guilt hit me that I hadn’t bothered to keep in touch with them after splitting up with Marcy, but I hadn’t thought they would want to hear from me.

“Come in,” Phoebe said. “And thanks for taking my call. We’ve been wanting to talk to you for some time. Things have ... things have gotten a little crazy.”

It was weird being in Marcy’s home again, especially given how much Diane and Marcy looked alike despite their slight height difference. Diane had given birth to Marcy at a young age, so she’d always been a bit of a youngish mom. Today, however, she seemed paler and more rundown than I remembered. Perhaps the stress of having Marcy move out was getting to her. Phoebe had said on the phone that they were worried about Marcy and wanted to speak to me about her.

The two launched into small talk questions about how college was going, where I was working, what I was doing, how my family was doing, where they’d been traveling, and the woman who had moved into the upstairs apartment Marcy had vacated. It was strange to think somebody else lived upstairs instead of Marcy. I’d spent so many nights up there I probably should have paid rent.

“Do you want anything to drink?” Diane asked suddenly. “We have everything you can think of ... water, juice, milk, soda.”

“I’m okay,” I said. “Is everything okay? Is Marcy okay?”

Marcy was the one topic we hadn’t broached yet, and I figured it was time.

Diane and Phoebe exchanged the slightest glance. Phoebe spoke first.

“She’s okay as far as we know. But that’s the problem, isn’t it? She isn’t the easiest person to get ahold of.”

“And she’s back with Gina again,” Diane added.

“Gina?” I repeated loudly. “Gina Gina?”

Both of Marcy’s mothers nodded. Neither of them were happy about it. Diane looked downright ashen at the thought.

“Since when?” I asked.

“We’re not sure,” Diane said. “Not too long. A month or two, we think.”

“We heard about it from somebody else,” Phoebe added. “Marcy never told us.”

“She knew we’d disapprove,” Diane added. “We were so thrilled when they broke up the first time. I think I cried for joy. Like real tears.”

“And then you came along,” Phoebe said. “And you were just so perfect for her. And we knew then she wouldn’t go back with Gina.”

I had a hard time believing Marcy would get back with Gina. In our three years together, Marcy never had one good thing to say about her ex. Still, I wished I had taken Diane up on her offer for a drink so I could have something to do with my hands other than clench them together and look down at the floor. I didn’t like all this praise being heaped on me.

“What happened between you two?” Phoebe asked. “You were so happy.”

I tucked a lock of hair behind my ear, still unable to meet their eyes. That was such a complicated question. I wasn’t sure it was my place to tell them everything. I settled on answering vaguely.

“We—we both hurt each other. And I did not handle the pain as well as I could have. She tried to reconcile, but I wasn’t mature enough. By the time I wised up, it was too late.”

I waited for some sign of anger or hurt from them, but they weren’t cross at all. Not even a trace of disappointment. I didn’t deserve such kindness. I had deeply wounded Marcy by ignoring her after I caught her cheating. Then she had gashed me in return. Did that make us even?

“Marcy certainly changed after you two split,” Diane explained. “She started drinking heavily, bringing women home at all hours of the night, disappearing for a day or two at a time, and even started dressing kind of—what’s the word I’m looking for?” She turned to Phoebe for help.

“Girly.” Phoebe gave me a shrug. “It’s true. She dressed very fashionably for a few weeks there. But we’re just so worried now!”

“What can I do to help?” I asked, dreading the answer.

“We know it’s a big ask,” Diane said, “but we hoped if you were ever in the area, you could stop by her place and check in on her?”

“You probably don’t go to Denver very often,” Phoebe added. “But maybe this would give you an excuse. We know that things aren’t likely to be repaired between you. But Diane and I wonder if diffusing the tension might help Marcy find herself again. We’ll text you the address. Maybe just pop over one evening without warning her.”

“We’ve tried doing it four times. We caught her once when she was headed out the door, and she practically blew us off.”

This didn’t seem like a good idea. I drove to Denver about three times a year, usually for a concert, a shopping trip with Opal and Pearl, or to see a friend or two from high school. But it wouldn’t hurt for me to say yes. So I did. Marcy’s moms were grateful. We chatted for a few more minutes and then gave more hugs all around before I left.

Hannah had texted me while I was talking with Marcy’s parents. I hadn’t seen her since our “booty call” evening. I’d been working and visiting home; she had gone to New York City for a weekend with her mom to see some shows on Broadway.

Hannah: Want to come over and blow off some steam with me again?

I didn’t answer her right away. I wasn’t really in the mood for sex. I was thinking about what I was supposed to do to help Phoebe and Diane with Marcy. I couldn’t believe they expected me to pop by my ex’s place two hours away! But I could also tell they were desperate for somebody to reach their daughter. Was that person me?

I got into my car and stared at my phone. Sex with Hannah was tempting but confusing. I decided on something else. Something more simple than a complicated crush. I texted Velma, who I could rely on just being a friend.

Me: Hey, I know it’s late, but do you want to watch a movie?

Velma: Now? What movie?

Me: I don’t care. You pick.

Velma: Here or your place?

Me: Your place is probably better than mine. But wherever.

Velma: Ok. You can come over. I’ll have a movie ready. In my PJs.

I texted Hannah next and told her I already had plans with a friend but would take a raincheck. She responded with a sad face and then a kissy emoji.

I went over to Velma’s house, still a little surprised she had said yes to my out-of-the-blue request. She lived in an apartment with three other roommates, one of whom had been her dorm roommate the previous year through their softball team connection. The apartment was a cute place and nicely decorated. I laughed when I saw Velma’s pajamas. She was in a one-piece pink jumper that zipped up in the front.

“Wow,” I said as I sat on one end of the couch.

“What?” Velma asked. “It’s cute.”

“It’s adorable. But it’s summer, and you’re wearing a full-body piece of cotton. Aren’t you dying?”

Velma sat on the other end of the couch. “I don’t sleep in it.”

“What movie did you pick?”

“I Still Believe,” she answered. “It’s about a Christian music artist.”

“Okay.” I kept my voice upbeat even though I’d never heard of the movie. When I saw the poster for the film on the screen, I said, “It’s got the guy from Riverdale.”

“Really? I’ve never seen that show. Is it a Christian show?”

I laughed. “Definitely not. He fucks—sorry! I mean, he sleeps with his teacher in the first episode.”

Velma gave me a look for dropping the f-bomb on her.

“Sorry again,” I added for good measure.

“Do you want a snack?” she asked. “I’ve got carrots sticks and snap peas.”

As an athlete for most of her life, Velma ate more vegetables and protein than anybody I’d ever met. But I hadn’t eaten anything since before my shift at the library, so I accepted the offer.

We chatted quite a bit during the movie. It was cheesy, but neither of us minded. I was grateful Velma took a good-natured approach to the film’s shortcomings. We talked about KJ Apa, the leading actor, and how cute we thought he was. Velma informed me three times during the movie that he was an actual Christian, and this led to a debate about whether or not he would wait until marriage to have sex. As the film ended, I asked Velma if she listened to the type of Christian music Apa’s character played in the movie.

One of Velma’s roommates repeatedly came in and out of the room, glancing over at me every time she passed by the couch. She was a little taller than me but much heavier. I lost count of how often she went to the fridge for food or the sink for water. About halfway through the final credits, she stood against the table and watched us for five minutes before returning to her bedroom.

“Is she okay?” I whispered to Velma. “She keeps staring at me.”

Velma rolled her eyes and mumbled, “Just a second.” She went into the hallway, and I heard a bedroom door open and close. “What is going on?” Velma said inside the room.

For a moment, I was startled by how easily I could hear my friend’s voice until I noticed an air vent at the bottom of the wall. I tried not to listen to their conversation, but it was impossible not to.

“I’m worried about you,” the roommate said, her voice also carrying a southern twang but more Texan than Velma’s Georgian. “You’re hanging out all friendly-like with a lesbian. Don’t you think that’s risky?”

“What do you mean?” Velma asked.

“Like she might try to seduce you, or you might be tempted by her?” the roommate explained. “I mean, she’s under the influence of Satan. If you’re around her, you could be, too.”

“Oh my gosh, Reba. That’s not how it works!” Her tone dripped with exasperation. “I’m not attracted to her. She’s my friend. I work with her. And who knows? Maybe by being around me, she’ll want to come to Jesus. Did you ever think of that?”

I squirmed in my seat a little. Is that why Velma wanted to spend time with me? She was trying to save me? She wanted me to see the light?

“Influence works both ways, Velma,” Reba said. “Maybe by you being around her, you’ll become curious about what it’s like to be with a woman. Did you ever think of that? You spend time around sinners, you start to get curious about sin.”

“Jesus spent time around sinners.”

“Oh, so now you’re Jesus?”

“Stop being a Pharisee, Reba.”

The door to the bedroom opened. I tried to act like I hadn’t heard anything. I pulled out my phone and started scrolling through Instagram.

“Stop being so naive!” the roommate called after Velma. “You’ve been warned!”

Velma appeared two seconds later, a fake smile on her face. She sat at the other end of the couch, as far away from me as possible.

“Everything okay?” I asked before she unpaused the film.

“Totally. She just had a question about Bible stuff.”

“Oh ... cool.”

The rest of the evening fell flat. We hardly talked. The movie was over. I felt lame after overhearing their discussion, though I appreciated Velma having my back to whatever degree she was sticking up for me. The goodbye was the most awkward part. I wasn’t sure whether to hug her or just say goodbye. She didn’t seem keen on hugging me either, so we just parted with a wave, and that was it.

Driving home, I half regretted not spending the night with Hannah. But I refused to let things get me down. I went straight to bed, and the following day, I woke with an email from Dean Perez’s office.

Hello Ms. Seymour,

Dr. Perez would like to meet with you today at 11 a.m. If you are available then, please call her office and confirm as soon as possible. Thank you.

I called back and told Dr. Perez’s assistant I would be there. Nervous jitters flooded my stomach as I left my apartment and went to the school gym to relieve my excess energy. Instead of returning home, I showered, changed in the locker room, and went straight to the meeting.

The assistant greeted me warmly, and instead of having me wait this time, I was shown right into the dean’s office. Dr. Perez stood and greeted me again with a handshake. I took the chair opposite her desk.

“Thank you for coming in on such short notice,” Dr. Perez said, “I’m sure you’re just as eager to get this matter resolved as I am.”

“Okay,” I said tentatively.

Dr. Perez looked at me. “You seem nervous. Is everything alright?”

Goosebumps covered my arms, and I felt cold all over. “No, I mean I am nervous. But it’s okay. This is new territory for me.”

“I see.” Dr. Perez stood up and leaned against the filing cabinet behind her. “Unfortunately, I don’t have good news for you, Ms. Seymour. I spoke to Professor Dubois. He said you did come to him and offer sexual services in exchange for better grades, but he instead said you should prepare well for the final, gave you some pointers, and you did well enough to raise your grade. I reviewed all of your scores for the semester. They corroborate his story.”

Before I could respond, she continued.

“However, I didn’t simply take his word for it. I spoke with people who work near him. Other professors on the pre-med track. Teaching assistants. I asked if any students had come forward with allegations or suggestions of wrongdoing of anyone in the department. I didn’t mention his name for obvious reasons, but no one seemed to have anything but positive remarks about him. Three other male professors, however, said you had approached them with the offer of sex for better grades. They all stated they declined and encouraged you to work harder and earn your grades.”