Chapter 2

Jon walked into the room he shared with Lester. "Les -- any plans for dinner?"

"None so far," he replied.

"Josh was going to drive over to that new burger joint on the northern edge of town. He asked if we'd like to come along."

Les pondered the invitation. His cell phone warbled an incoming call. The display showed a local number he didn't recognize. He pressed a key to answer the call.

"Hello ... Hi, Donna..." He looked up at Jon.

"Well, well," Jon remarked.

He spoke into the phone. "Yes ... okay. Do you want me to come over there?" He listened. "I can be there in fifteen minutes." He closed up his phone.

"Well?" Jon asked.

"She said she needed to talk to me. We're meeting at the Tech Union."

"Did she say what about?"

"No -- just that she wanted to talk. Maybe she wants to arrange a reconciliation with Lori."

"You're delusional, Les. The chances of that are on the none side of between slim and none." Les picked up his keys and headed for the door. "I take it the answer for Josh then is, no," Jon called after him.

It was warm for late October so Les didn't bother pulling on a jacket over his polo shirt. He headed down the hill toward the academic campus at a brisk pace, taking long strides, arriving at the Union in about thirteen minutes.

Les scanned the lounge for Donna and didn't see her, so he took a seat at a table with a view of the entrance. Shortly she arrived, dressed in a tee shirt and jeans cut off just below the pockets. He regarded her legs -- they were full but smooth and shapely with cute, dimpled knees.

She approached his table. "Enjoying the view?" she asked.

Les's eyes snapped up to meet hers. "Oh, hi ... Uhh ... Can I get you something? A soda?"

"No thanks -- I'm good." She sat across from him and set her bag on the table.

"I ... I didn't expect to hear from you after the other night," he replied.

"I didn't expect to be calling you."

"I hope you weren't staying up, waiting for me to call."

"Rest assured, Les -- I was not."

"I really am sorry about Friday, Donna..."

"It's behind me, Les."

"Why did you call?" he asked. "Why do you want to see me?"

Donna removed her smartphone from her bag and poked the screen. She set it before him. "Because of this..."

He regarded the screen, recognized the email message he had sent to Lori and began blushing beet red. "How ... how did you get that?"

"Lori forwarded it to me. I see from it that I didn't quite measure up to your expectations as a date, Les. I know I'm not a gorgeous, statuesque swan like Lori. I know I don't have a cute, perky, up-turned nose, blue eyes or a figure like a model's. You didn't have to rub it in. Les -- you didn't even give me a chance ... try to get to know me."

By now his cheeks felt like they were burning. "That's not what I meant, Donna."

"How else am I supposed to read this?"

"You weren't supposed to read it at all! That was a private communication for Lori's eyes and for her eyes only. Why would she forward it to you?" He cradled his forehead in his palm. "Oh my God! Who else has seen this? Did she post it on her Facebook? Forward it to all her friends? Is this going to be one of those emails that goes around the world in a matter of hours?"

"No, to my knowledge she only sent it to me." Donna regarded him for a long moment. "Oh, I get it ... this isn't about me, is it? You really do have it bad for her, don't you?"

"I did have it bad. Now, I'm not so sure. Forwarding that email shows a lack of class."

"I agree with you there," she said.

"I'm disappointed in her."

"So am I. I never would do anything like that, Les. Believe me."

He drew in a breath and released it as an exasperated sigh. "Friday was so fucked up ... I mean ... I shouldn't even have asked you out, Donna."

"Then, why did you?"

"My roommate badgered me into it. I'm still reeling from Lori dumping me and I was not in the right frame of mind to go on a blind date."

"That much I believe and understand, Les."

"Why would she forward that to you? What good would it serve? It was a violation of trust."

"Oh, absolutely. The fact she could do something like that is making me re-evaluate my friendship with her. Les -- since she violated your trust, I'm going to violate hers. After all, it's only fair. I'm going to tell you something about Lori that she told me in the strictest confidence. Promise me it won't go any further."

"You have my word."

"Lori has ... issues with men."

"I'm beginning to see that," he replied.

"When she was fifteen she was in her high school orchestra -- first violin as a freshman, Les. That seat usually is reserved for upperclassmen."

"It's not a surprise -- she is a music major."

"After a concert she went to a party at the home of one of her classmates. Someone had smuggled in some alcohol -- wine coolers. She drank a few and became drunk. A couple of the guys took advantage of her and she was raped."

Les stared at Donna, slack-jawed. "Oh, my God! Did they prosecute him ... them?"

"No. It was a his-word-against-hers situation, with him claiming it was consensual. She didn't want to endure the trauma of testifying -- so she dropped it. The incident damaged her, Les. Ever since, whenever she's in a relationship that she thinks is about to get physical -- she bails. Then, she needs to rationalize why ... she looks for a way to find fault with the guy." Donna picked up her phone, closed the email and slipped it back into her bag. "I think this was part of that. You gave her the out she needed, and she passed it on to me to prove she was right."

Les winced. Jon was right, he thought, then he muttered, "I never should've sent that email." He pressed and pounded his fist against his forehead.

"I think subconsciously she's punishing you for what that other guy did to her. It isn't the first time I've seen something like this happen. Lori is getting counseling but I wonder if she'll ever be able to have a normal relationship. I'm really sorry, Les."

"You don't have anything to be sorry about. It was nothing you did."

"I was an accomplice ... witting or otherwise, I was wrapped up in this. I understand how she hurt you, Les. I've been hurt and I know how it feels."

"I should be apologizing to you, Donna. I did not intend to throw you under the bus. Now that I re-read what I wrote I can see how someone might interpret it that way." He looked into her eyes. "You deserved better and I am sorry."

"Apology accepted," she replied. "It's behind me."

"God ... To think someone would do that to Lori." Les shook his head. "That is something I simply do not comprehend, Donna. I have never once in my life had the desire to rape anyone. Even if I had -- I couldn't carry through with it. How someone could is beyond me."

"I believe you, Les. I don't understand it, either."

"Poor Lori," he said. "I had no idea she had to endure that ... and, she's still affected by it. It makes me sad ... and angry."

"Well ... We've covered what I wanted to say to you, so now I'll be on my way. Maybe I'll see you around..." She stood and turned from him.

"Donna -- wait." She faced him again. "Do you have plans for dinner?"

"Just going back to the dorm and to the cafeteria."

"For reasons known only to the gods or Tech administration..."

"Aren't those one and the same?" she asked.

"Maybe ... Our food service doesn't provide a Sunday evening meal, so we're on our own. I was wondering if you'd like to accompany me to Sergio's."

She sat across from him again. "I've heard of them."

"Best pizza in town ... that is, only if you like thick, soft crust, piled high with toppings and stringy, fresh mozzarella, the tastiest pepperoni and an indescribable sauce. Otherwise..."

"Sounds like a place I'd like to know about."

"Consider it a make-good for Friday."

"All right -- I accept. Where are they located?"

"They're around the block from the Arlington. It's a bit of a hike."

Donna extended her legs. "At least today I'm wearing proper walking shoes."

"You have pretty legs, Donna. You know, you just gave me an excuse to look at them."

She regarded her legs. "I'm happy with them. They're short but I think they look okay."

"Shall we go?"

Les held the door for her and they headed up the street. "Am I walking too fast?" he asked.

"I'm keeping up. You know, Les ... you're more sensitive than I anticipated."

"Sensitive?"

"I mean it as a compliment. I sensed it with you on Friday and I'm sensing it now. You have empathy, and I like a guy with empathy. I think you were as uncomfortable with that film as I was."

"Maybe not quite as uncomfortable," he replied.

"Some of my friends told me that Tech guys are awkward, socially maladjusted, workaholic nerds and geeks with a dash of misogyny. They wondered why I wanted to meet one."

"Why did you want to meet one?" he asked.

"Well, all the guys I've met at State have been maladjusted in their own ways. Now that I know you a bit, Les, I see you're not like that. You're quite a nice guy, actually."

"As they say, the grass is greener on the other side of the river. I've had trouble meeting Tech girls I liked." They walked half a block. "Donna ... About that email..."

"Les. Please. I said it's behind me. Please put it behind you, too."

"I can't get it behind me. I feel like such an idiot, and I've never been so embarrassed in my life. How can you put it behind you?"

"That? That was nothing. You can't change the past, Les. It's behind you. You can learn from it ... but why let it control you?"

"That sounds l ike a good philosophy," he remarked.

"I have lots of practice putting things behind me."

"What do you mean?"

"I told you about my dad going off to Iraq and my mom going to jail."

"You had to put that behind you."

"After his tours my dad came home. My mom was out of jail and we were back together. Except, my dad had some serious PTSD. He developed a quick temper and would become abusive. Mom couldn't deal with it, so one night she gathered my sister and me and we left him. Of course, it wasn't long before she was dealing drugs again. She got caught and this time was looking at doing some serious time. My dad was in a downward spiral and ended up committing suicide."

"Oh, God, Donna." He shook his head. "Yet another casualty of a war we had no business starting."

"I agree with you on that point."

They reached the restaurant. Les held the door, Donna stepped inside and he followed her. They found a table and sat across from each other.

"The aroma here," she said, "is giving me an appetite."

"One of their medium pizzas is a good dinner for two," he said. "What do you like on yours?"

"I'm not fussy."

"Their specialty is EBA -- everything but anchovies."

"I'm game for that."

"I was thinking about ordering a glass of Lumbrusco."

"What's that?"

"It's a light, sweet red wine with a bit of a fizz."

"Les -- I'm nineteen."

"And, I'm twenty. This is a safe place. I wouldn't try ordering a drink at the Arlington. The cops sweep that place regularly. Here ... here it's okay. They won't even ask for an ID."

"I don't know..."

"I'm not a big drinker, Donna. I don't binge drink. My folks introduced it to us as kids. When we were fourteen we started having tastes of wine and beer at dinner. They taught us to respect the stuff, and I've learned to enjoy a glass of wine with pizza."

"I suppose that's one way of dealing with it."

"I think kids who regard alcohol as a forbidden fruit are the ones that have problems with the stuff."

"You might be right," she replied. "I had better not risk it, Les. It could jeopardize my scholarship."

"Then, I'll pass, too. I don't like drinking alone."

"You're not alone -- I'm with you. Don't abstain on my account."

"I don't like being the only one doing it."

Their server approached. "What'll it be?" she asked.

"We'll split a medium everything-but-anchovies," Les replied.

"Anything to drink?"

"Diet Coke," Donna said.

"Same here."

Their server turned and stepped toward the kitchen.

Les regarded Donna. "That was quite a story you were telling me on our walk here. What happened next?"

"Well ... They sent my mom away. I told CPS there was no way I was going back to the pig farm so they put my sister and me into foster care. We were placed with a widowed woman -- Martha. She was in her fifties and had a live-in lesbian lover, Rose. She kept that fact from the county."

"I've heard horror stories about kids in foster care."

"Well ... Martha wasn't one of those. She gave me and my sister what we needed -- unconditional love. I was lashing out at first and she understood. I'd do something outrageous and wouldn't punish me -- she'd hug me. I settled down ... started doing well at school ... I lived with her until ... well, until I came here. I love her, Les. She and Rose were more like moms to me than my own mother." Donna began brushing tears from her face.