The four of us opted out of attending the luncheon that MSC was hosting following the service. Trying to eat a big meal after having your guts spoon-fed to you just felt wrong on so many levels. Instead, we headed to Javalotta.
The others grabbed a table while I went to the break room to check my schedule for the following week. Thankfully, Larry and Liz were completely understanding about my probation and tutoring. They agreed to cut my hours during the week, and I volunteered to work whenever they needed on the weekends. Liz was even nice enough to schedule me off for the memorial service. I had to work open to close tomorrow, but it was cool. The store was only open eleven to six on Sunday. My schedule for the following week looked similar with the exception of working until nine next Saturday.
Between tutoring and working all weekend, I would be too busy for anything else, which was my intention all along.
Leaving the break room, I headed back to my friends, who were in the process of giving one of my coworkers, Heather, their drink orders.
“Hey, ho, you want your usual?” Heather asked, nudging me with her hip before I slid into the booth beside Derek.
“Don’t be jealous, blow queen,” I said, making a gesture with my mouth like I was sucking on something.
Everyone laughed and after a moment I joined in, even though it felt forced and a little phony. Still, for the first time in a week, I felt almost normal. Cameo looked satisfied, which didn’t escape my attention. I rolled my eyes, but didn’t comment.
I turned my attention to Chad, who I hadn’t seen since last weekend. “How’s it going?” My question was fraught with double meaning.
He shrugged before answering. “It pretty much sucks. The entire fraternity was dismantled, so most of us were left scrambling for available housing. MSC isn’t being very sympathetic. They’re the biggest bunch of douche-hypocrites ever. Even my dad is being a total prick. I remember when we were in high school, he used to brag to my brothers and me about all the shit he did in college. Suddenly, he’s a fucking saint and I’m the bad guy,” Chad complained, running his hand through his hair in aggravation.
“You’re not being expelled, right?” Derek asked as Heather returned with our drinks and the platter of pastries we ordered.
Chad shook his head. “Nah, just probation. None of us underclassmen got anything worse. It’s the seniors that got fucked. I know Dawson and Kevin both lost their scholarships. They both left yesterday.” The school basically blamed the upperclassmen for everything.
Cameo, Derek, and I collectively gasped at the same time. This shit was real.
“I didn’t know that,” Cameo said, picking the pecans off one of the croissants. “You only told me about Steve.”
“What about Steve?” I asked, losing my appetite midbite.
Cameo answered for Chad. “He was asked to leave on Thursday.”
“That doesn’t seem fair. Why just Steve?”
“He came forward and admitted the prank was his idea. The other brothers were mad. Their plan was to stay quiet and ride out the wave together. Steve went all kamikaze and took the fall for everyone.” Chad shook his head as he took a big bite from a strawberry-filled pastry.
“Holy shit, that’s crazy. I bet Melissa is pretty torn up,” I said.
“No shit. Supposedly, she threatened to break up with him if he went through with his plan,” Chad explained.
“Can’t say I blame her,” Cameo stated.
“What?” Derek sputtered, glaring across the table. “You can’t be serious. What about the whole stand-by-your-man thing?”
“Like we live in nineteen sixty? Steve should have kept his mouth closed and eventually everything would have blown over.” Cameo’s answer surprised me. It was as if David’s death wasn’t important.
“Someone died and you really thought it would just blow over? Come on, Cam, get real,” Derek argued.
Disgusted by Cameo’s attitude, I focused on my pastry that I had slowly but methodically mutilated. Would my attitude be the same as Cameo’s if I hadn’t gone with Melissa and met David that night? I wish I could believe otherwise, but truthfully, I didn’t know.
The topic of conversation switched after that before things got too heated, but everyone was pretty much done, so we left. When we got home, Cameo didn’t bother to ask if I wanted to go out with her, so I guessed that meant the truce was over. Derek opted to stay home with me. Cameo didn’t hang around long, and once she left, most of the tension that had cloaked our apartment during the last week evaporated.
I sank down into the sofa where Derek joined me with a couple of Cokes he had grabbed from the fridge. “I really don’t get Cameo right now,” he said, sitting next to me.
I wasn’t sure how to handle his remark. Obviously, he was talking about their semi-heated exchange earlier, but I couldn’t be sure anything I said wouldn’t get back to her ears. “I think everyone is still just trying to figure out how to deal with what happened.”
“I get that, but thinking everyone should keep their mouths shut so someone’s death will just blow over? That’s kind of fucked-up. It’s like she doesn’t even believe anyone is responsible.”
“Yeah, but who is responsible? Steve and the others at the fraternity are taking the fall, but isn’t everyone that participated responsible? What about the ones like us who watched it happen? Hell, we all encourage hazing.” I sounded more mature than I think I had ever sounded in my life. The guilt I had been suffering with was burning on the tip of my tongue.
“I guess. The hazing parties do get pretty out of control, obviously. Maybe that’s Cam’s problem. Maybe she feels guilty. It doesn’t seem like it, but who knows.”