Chapter 3

Kit sat in his room playing a game on his laptop. Billy stepped in. “More craps?”

“Yeah ... I’ll figure this out, yet.”

“Play the pass and come lines,” his roommate replied. “Or, place six and eight. All the others are suckers’ bets.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“You’ll still lose ... just not as fast.” Billy slipped into his jacket. “I’m going to the Sub Station for some dinner. Wanna come?”

Kit closed the lid on his laptop. “I suppose. I could never figure out why they don’t serve a Sunday evening meal here.” His cell warbled to signal an incoming call. He pulled the device from his pocket and pressed the screen to answer. “Hello?”

Kit? It’s Nichelle.

Kit looked toward his roommate. “It’s Nichelle,” he said. “I better take this.”

“I suppose you should.” Billy headed out the door.

“I’ll catch up if I can,” Kit called to his roommate as the door closed. He spoke into the phone. “Nichelle -- I’m happy to hear from you.”

I see you called a couple times and sent some texts...

“Yeah -- I was worried about you ... wondering how you were doing. Hey -- would you like to get together and talk?”

I would, Kit.

“Billy and I were going to the Sub Station for dinner. Wanna join us?”

Uhhh ... Kit -- my stomach is still a little off. Any place that smelled like food would make me nauseated ... and my throat’s sore.

“Throat’s sore?”

From being intubated. Kit -- I would like to hear your side of what happened.

“I could walk over to Whalen and we could sit in the lobby.”

I’d like that, Kit.

“See you in a little bit.” Kit pressed a key to terminate the call.

Kit stepped into the Whalen lobby carrying a paper bag. He looked around and saw Nichelle sitting on a sofa. She wore a knee-length denim skirt and a short-sleeved printed blouse. He approached her. “Hi.”

“Hi. What’s that?” Nichelle pointed to the bag.

He retrieved a soda can from it. “Ginger ale -- good for settling an unsettled stomach. There’s a vending machine in the Moore lobby ... it’s still cold.” He popped the can and handed it to her, then he retrieved another one for himself.

“That’s sweet of you.” Nichelle sipped from the can. “This actually does feel pretty good. Kit ... I don’t know where to start. I’m not sure exactly how you fit into this ... the nurse at the hospital said someone named Kit Carson performed CPR on me...”

Kit laughed, nearly blowing ginger ale out his nose. “They got things mixed up. Kit Carson is a ... Daniel Boone type figure.”

“I know who Kit Carson was,” she replied.

“My name’s Wainwright...”

“I know that, too.”

“ ... and my roommate’s name is Billy Carson.”

“I figured they had mixed things up but you’re the only Kit I know so I thought they probably meant you.”

“What do you remember from last night?” Kit asked.

Nichelle shook her head. “Not much.”

“Do you remember staggering out of the Goonies’ and collapsing on their lawn?”

“No ... Did I do that?”

“Indeed you did. Do you remember me walking you to your dorm?” She shook her head. “Not remembering your room number?”

“Oh, God ... For future reference, it’s 305-D.”

“305-D -- I’ll remember that.”

“I can’t believe I couldn’t remember my own room number.”

“You were pretty much out of it and seemed to be getting worse by the minute. Do you remember coming to my dorm room?” She shook her head again. “Puking in my toilet?”

“I threw up?”

“Yeah and I held your hair back.”

“Oh, God ... how humiliating. I don’t remember anything. It’s a big, foggy blank.”

“I don’t suppose you would remember passing out. What DO you remember?”

“I remember going to the party with Roxanne. Next thing I remember is coming to in the hospital. Everything in between is just a thick, thick fog with little glimpses here and there. You can’t know how unsettling it is to have a blackout like that. Kit, I need to know. Did you perform CPR on me?”

“No ... I gave you mouth-to-mouth. Your heart never stopped beating so I didn’t need to do any chest compressions. Good thing, too -- I’m a lot less confident with that. You did quit breathing, though.”

Nichelle’s eyes began to brim. “They said you saved my life. It’s true -- you did. I don’t know how I can thank you ... how I can show my gratitude.”

“Just seeing you sitting here, alive and well -- it’s all the thanks I need. Nichelle -- I would’ve done it for anyone.”

“You didn’t do it for anyone. You did it for me.”

“Billy and I computed that you must’ve had a BAC north of point three-zero to be that wasted -- about six drinks for a girl your size. You don’t remember any of that?”

“Kit -- that’s the thing. They told me in the hospital my BAC was about point one-five.”

“That’s close to double the legal limit but not nearly enough to put you into a coma,” he replied.

“Exactly.” Nichelle buried her face in her hands and sobbed. “Sorry,” she said, sniffling. It’s been an emotional day for me -- emotions all over the board.” She brushed tears from her face. “I’ve felt fear, remorse, humiliation, uncertainty, doubt, shame -- all at the same time. What I don’t understand is, how my BAC got that high. I might drink a beer now and then but never that much...”

“One thing sleazy guys do when they want to get a girl drunk is to top up her glass behind her back. You might think you’re on your first, but in reality you’re on your third. It’s why you need to keep an eye on your drink.”

“I suppose that could have happened. Anything could’ve happened ... I don’t remember any of it. They said at the hospital they think someone must’ve slipped me a roofie.”

“Drugged? The cop I talked to said they busted that Goonie party and found drugs.”

“They arrested a bunch of Gamma Nu guys ... and Roxanne. She spent the night in jail. I learned that from Amanda -- another roommate. She’s in deep shit now, Kit.” She looked in his eyes. “Kit -- I wanted to make sure you knew ... I’m not the sort of girl who does this stuff. I might have a beer or two ... but I never let myself get drunk.”

“Nichelle -- I want you to know ... I believe you. I never thought you were that sort of girl. I was astonished to find you in this situation.”

“No more astonished than I was when I came to in that hospital.”

“I know it wasn’t your fault. What drug do they think someone slipped you? Rohypnol?”

She shook her head. “They think most likely GHB. They might know more once the toxicology comes back.”

“Could be 1,4-B,” Kit mused.

“What’s that?” she asked.

“It’s a rather common chemical that your body metabolizes into GHB. They could filch some from one of the chem labs. Did they check you evidence of any ... unwelcome activity?”

“Do you mean, was I raped?” Kit nodded. “Yes, they examined me. I checked myself pretty carefully when I got home.”

“And?”

“No, thank God.”

“Thank God,” Kit repeated. “I tell you, the one thing that could make me homicidal would be if that happened to someone I cared for. I’m relieved you were spared that, at least.”

“Amanda told me that at least one of the girls there was assaulted.”

“Then, you left in the nick of time.”

“Kit -- my mom’s been calling and texting. I don’t know what I’m going to tell her. I’m dreading that call. She knows Roxanne’s mom and some of this is bound to get back to her.”

“Tell her the truth. Tell her you went to the party and someone drugged you. You’re actually lucky to get out of it in as good shape as you are.”

“Thanks to you.” Tears began filling her eyes again and she brushed them aside.

“How did you end up invited to that party in the first place?” Kit asked.

“Roxanne is dating one of the Gamma Nu brothers...”

“Roxanne is dating a Goonie?”

“Yeah. She told me about this party -- admission free for girls but ten bucks for guys. Since I didn’t have anything better to do...”

“Wait a minute,” Kit interrupted. “When I asked you out, you said you had other plans. Remember?”

Nichelle closed her eyes and nodded. Her lip began to tremble. “I lied. Oh, God, Kit -- when you asked me out I was delighted ... flattered. I wanted to say yes, but instead that lie came out from somewhere deep inside me. I’m so ashamed of myself ... I realized I had some sort of a race thing going, too.” Kit regarded her, slack-jawed. “I’m so sorry. You see -- I’ve never dated a white guy. I’m hoping that ... if your offer is still in force ... you’d give me another chance to accept. I’ll understand perfectly well if you won’t...”

“Of course it is, Nichelle. Of course it is. I’d love to go out with you -- but only on one condition.”

“What condition?”

“That you want to go out with me. That this isn’t a pity date.”

“Oh, I do, Kit. I can tell you for sure whatever race thing I had with you is gone, now -- gone for good. I want to get to know you better. That’s the truth.”

“And, if there were any remnants of my race thing left, they were demolished last night.” He could feel his eyes burning. “I realize how close I came to losing a friend.”

“Now don’t you start.” Nichelle lunged at him and they embraced, each sniffling and sobbing on the other’s shoulder.

Kit relaxed his grip on her and brushed tears from her face. She stroked some from his cheek. “God, you look so much better than the last time I saw you,” he said.

“I’m sure I do.”