Untouchable (Private 3)

"Is that all you two have to say?" Dean Marcus asked, glaring at us from across his wide desk.

Isn't that enough?

The dean was definitely old, but since Thomas had gone missing, the police had invaded our campus, and parents had started yanking their kids and their tuition, he seemed to have aged ten years. His wrinkles were deeper, the gray at his temples had spread, and his brown eyes seemed to swim sourly in their sockets. The note from Thomas was laid out flat on his leather blotter, the only piece of paper on his otherwise impeccably organized desk. In the corner, the tall, imposing Chief Sheridan whispered intently with his shorter, kinder counterpart, Detective Hauer. After muttering a few expletives toward the beginning of our stories, they had been conferencing on and off throughout the rest of the meeting.

"We're very sorry we didn't come in sooner, sir," Josh said, sounding much more composed than I felt. "We just always hoped Thomas would be coming back--"

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"And when he did, you were going to allow him to continue with his illegal activities," the dean said, his voice rising as the redness of his face deepened to near burgundy. "You were going to allow him to continue disgracing this institution."

I sank lower in my leather chair. I was going to get thrown out of Easton. I could feel it. I was never goin

g to touch the ivy around the entrance to Billings again. Never find out if I could actually pass Mr. Barber's history class. Never sit with Noelle and Ariana and Kiran and Taylor and sip wine and eat expensive chocolates and laugh. Never see New York from windows high above Park Avenue again. What had I been thinking, coming here? How could I have forgotten how much there was to lose?

Croton, Pennsylvania, here I come! I wondered if that handwritten Help Wanted sign was still hanging in the window of the Rite Aid.

"But that's not even the worst of it, Mr. Hollis," Dean Marcus continued, his indignation so strong he was starting to tremble. "If you had come to us with this information earlier we might have found Mr. Pearson weeks ago. You don't--"

My heart completely stopped beating.

"Dean," the chief said in a warning tone.

The dean went white under his age spots as he realized his slipup. He looked at the chief uncertainly.

Weeks ago? Weeks?

"Is that true?" I heard myself say, my voice sounding very meek. "Has Thomas been dead for that long?"

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"I'm sorry, Miss Brennan, but we're not at liberty to divulge that information while our investigation continues," Chief Sheridan said firmly, stepping up to the desk.

Dean Marcus sat back in his chair, deflated. The chief's tone was reprimanding. Clearly, the dean had been relishing his position as man in charge of this meeting, and by speaking a few words too many he had just lost it. It seemed there was an authority higher than our school's number-one authority figure.

"But Dean Marcus is right. You should have told us these things during our first meetings," the chief continued, staring us down. "I know you thought you were protecting your friend, but by impeding our investigation you've done the exact opposite."

What little breakfast I'd managed to choke down was slowly rising up from my stomach. Was he right? Could I actually have prevented Thomas's death by coming forward? How could this be happening?

Tears came to my eyes, and I stared straight ahead at the green glass lamp on the dean's desk, watching it blur. I couldn't take this. I couldn't. I felt like my chest was filling up with something I couldn't define. Something that would surely drown me.

"You didn't know," Josh said, quietly.

I looked at him. He was staring right at me. Somehow, I felt calmer, and I willed him not to look away. If he looked away, I would sink.

"Excuse me, Mr. Hollis?" the chief snapped.

"I said she didn't know," Josh said a bit louder. "There was no

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way she could have known that Thomas was going to get hurt. As far as she knew, that was just a breakup note. How was she supposed to know?"

He glared at the chief. Glared at this man who could potentially end our lives as we knew them. Was he brave or just incredibly stupid? The moment he broke eye contact with me, tears slid silently down my cheeks.

Control yourself Reed. You can do at least that. Don't let these people see you crumble. I wiped at my face, but the tears still came.

"Calm down, Mr. Hollis," Chief Sheridan said.