Best Friend's Ex Box Set

“What’s the matter?” I asked when I found Brian leaning against the wall across the hall from the door to my Psych class. “Do you have something against psychology?”

“Not as a tool of learning, but —” he replied.

“But what?” I pushed. I noticed the way he avoided looking at me as he scanned the corridor, opened his mouth to speak, stopped and scanned again, and then closed his lips and shook his head.

“Never mind,” he muttered.

“No, that’s not fair!” I protested. “You don’t get to start to say something and then stop.”

“Look, Ms. Klein,” he explained. “I’m here to ensure your safety, I’m not here to joke around and be your buddy. It’s best if you just act like I’m part of the surroundings rather than someone you can chat with, okay? It’s for your own good. Believe me.”

“That’s about the most idiotic thing anyone has ever said to me,” I shot back. I was angry that he’d cut me off when I was trying to be nice about this whole thing. After all, it was my privacy that was being invaded by his job, and I hadn’t asked him to do it. When I’m mad, I get very sarcastic, and I turned that on him as I asked, “So, are you going to sit in on class or is your bias too great to allow you to enter the room?”

“Actually, I think it’s best if I don’t invade every aspect of your personal life,” he said as he fixed his steel blue eyes on my face. “I will secure the spaces you are in, and then I’ll back off and let you do your thing. During class, I’ll be out here in the hallway.”

“And if I have to go to the bathroom?” I said in a snippy tone. “What are you going to do then?”

“I’ve secured the bathroom on this floor, so you’re free to use it if you need to,” he replied in the same even tone.

“Oh my God,” I laughed as I turned on my heel and headed back into the room. “You’re really taking this way too seriously.”

“I’m sorry you feel that way, Ms. Klein,” he said in a voice tinged with the hint of sadness.

When I snuck a look over my shoulder before I shut the door, I could see him scanning the hallway for the hundredth time, and murmured, “Well, you’re certainly vigilant, I’ll give you that.”

*****

I tried to focus on Professor Blake’s lecture, but my mind was racing a mile a minute as I thought about how pissed I was at my father for forcing Brian on me. None of this would make any difference in our father-daughter relationship, whatever there was of that. It was true that we’d never been close, but he’d never played the “dad card” the way he was right now, so I was suspicious of all the sudden concern for my well-being. Something strange was going on with my parents, but I had no idea what it was.

“Good morning, everyone,” began Professor Blake. “Today we’re covering chapter 23 in our textbook. We’ll be talking about the evolutionary brain and how it relates to what has been commonly labeled Stockholm Syndrome. Now, can one of you who have read the chapter tell me what evolutionary brain function has to do with today’s topic?”

“Hunter-gatherers were designed to solve certain problems!” came an eager response from the back of the room.

“Correct, Justin,” replied Professor Blake. “And what was one specific problem that they had to solve, specifically the problem that women had to solve?”

“Abduction of women would be used as a mechanism of asserting strength and increasing the size of a tribe, and women who resisted would often be subjected to deadly violence so they had to learn to give in without actually giving in, if that makes sense.” As usual, Lara summarized the issue in a succinct sentence.

“Very good, Lara!” Professor Blake exclaimed.

As I looked over my shoulder and gave Lara a thumbs up, I caught sight of Brian standing guard out in the hall, and again, my blood began to boil as I reminded myself that my father, the one who was so overly concerned with my safety, had never even met Dominic. Come to think of it, my father had never made the time to come to campus and see what was going on or even offer to come see me. Instead, every year he’d assign one of his minions to pack up the car, drive me to school, and drop me off in my dorm room, and the night before he’d come in and hand over cash, one new credit card for all my school expenses, and another one “for fun,” he’d say with a wink and a nod, then I’d roll my eyes and tuck the cards in my wallet. It became our yearly ritual.

Sometimes during the year, I’d fly to New York and go on a huge shopping spree just to see what he’d say when he got the bill, but he never said anything; not even when I spent over $15,000 on clothes and shoes in one trip to Dior. I’m not sure he even noticed.

“What do you think, Ava? Do you agree with Jessie?” Professor Blake’s voice cut through my thoughts, pulling me away from my family and bringing me back to the classroom.

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t paying attention,” I apologized as I turned beet red from the embarrassment of being caught off guard.

“Ah ha, I see,” he nodded and then rephrased the question. “What is the base definition of Stockholm Syndrome? What makes it so powerful?”

“That the victim finds a way to identify with the abductor and actually falls for him,” I said without hesitation.

“Good, good!” he encouraged. “Can you tell me more about it, Ava? What’s the danger?”

“That the captive empathizes so much with the abductor that they see the abuse as kindness…” my voice trailed off.

“Yes! Excellent answer, Ava!” Professor Blake crowed as he turned his attention back to the whiteboard at the front of the room, where he began writing terms and asking other students to define them.

I sat quietly, listening to my classmates calling out the answers to questions the professor asked in rapid fire, and wondered if Brian was still out in the hallway. I quickly turned to check and caught his eye before he turned and scanned the corridor again.