“When you’ve lived in denial for so long, it’s hard to overcome the emotion and face reality. I’m sure he acted the way he did because he was afraid to lose Grady,” Bowie said.
“Well, now he has no choice.” Graham sighed. “Anyway, I’m sure if you offer him a ride home, he’ll take you up on it. You guys really didn’t need to come all the way here.”
“You need us. You would’ve done the same.” Rennie squeezed Graham’s hand to bring her message home.
At Graham’s suggestion, they took the stairs down to the cafeteria, where they found George watching television. He was gruff with his hello but perked right up when Bowie offered to take him back to town. It was clear to Graham that his father was uncomfortable and wanted to go home, which made him angry. He should be there for Grady. George should stay for his wife.
“Dad, before you leave with Bowie, you should stop in and see Grady. And say goodbye to Mom.”
George grumbled some unintelligible response, which Graham took as a “Yes, son, you’re right,” even though he knew his father would never say such a thing. He sensed his pleas fell on deaf ears when it came to his father. Graham thought about pressing his father for a solid answer but knew it would only piss the old man off, so he turned his attention toward Rennie. He pulled her into a hug and thanked her for coming. She pulled away and shook her head. “I’m not leaving you, Graham.”
EIGHT
The shrill sound of the phone ringing jolted Graham out of bed. One hand fumbled for his phone, determined to stop the noise before his roommate woke up, while the other hand worked to remove his entangled legs from the bedding.
“He . . . ,” he croaked. Graham cleared his throat and took a deep breath to calm his rapidly beating heart. Before he could regain any semblance of composure, he looked at the clock and saw that it was shortly after three in the morning. Who could be on the other line this early—or rather, late? Was something wrong with his mom or dad? His brother? “Hello?”
“Graham.”
Rennie. His mind relaxed. It wasn’t uncommon for her to call at all hours of the night. Most of the time, she’d forgotten what time it was because of her all-night study sessions and would call him when she couldn’t fall asleep.
“Hey, Ren,” he said quietly, so as to not wake his roommate. Graham kicked his blankets straight and lay back down, bringing the comforter over his head to give himself some privacy, of which his dorm room offered none.
“Graham Cracker, I need you.”
Graham’s heart stopped. Was this the moment he had waited for after all these years? Did Rennie feel the same way? Or was this another booty call, to which he would give Rennie Wallace anything she asked?
Graham was a fool’s fool. While he was smart—top of his class—when it came to Rennie, he was as stupid as they came. She could tell him to jump off the Golden Gate Bridge, and he would ask her to name the date and time. Graham was in love with her. Rennie wasn’t in love with him. Not the way it mattered, at least.
“What’s wrong?” He closed his eyes and imagined her with him under the covers with only a flashlight illuminating the space. They had done that once or twice, back when they were in Cape Harbor and Rennie visited for the summer after their junior year of high school ended. The group had gone camping along the river. The guys were going to fish all day while the girls sunbathed and swam in the river. According to everyone’s parents, the boys needed to stay in their own tents. The same went for the girls. Of course, everyone agreed until they arrived at the campsite and paired off.
“I think I’m in trouble.”
“What happened?” Those five words woke Graham up. The grogginess he felt dissipated quickly.
“I don’t want to say over the phone. Can you come here?”
“I’m on my way.” He hung up and sprang out of bed. He dressed in the dark, thankfully remembering where he had left his sweatpants from the previous day. He found a T-shirt hanging out of his drawer, sniffed, and determined it was clean before slipping it on. He spun around his room, trying to recall where he kicked his sneakers off. Graham got down on his hands and knees and felt around in the darkness until he found them.
When it came to clothes, disorderly was the word used to describe Graham. However, he always seemed to know where everything was. He kept his wallet and keys in a dish on top of his dresser, which made them easy to find in the darkness.
Outside his dorm room, he slipped his shoes on and walked down the hall as quietly and quickly as he could. If his resident advisor saw him leave, he would ask questions. The dorms had curfews, and his RA was a stickler for the rules. With the recent spike in gang-related activity, San Jose State University wanted their students to be safe. Leaving at three in the morning to drive to Santa Clara University wouldn’t fall under the safety category.
The motion-sensor lights on campus forced Graham to stay in the shadows until he reached the parking lot. He had an excuse ready if campus security stopped him: he needed antacids. Graham was a pro at faking a stomachache.
Graham’s four-door silver Honda came to life on the second try. He slipped it into reverse and pulled out of the parking spot, purposely keeping his lights off until he faced away from the dorms. When he came to the intersection to leave campus, he turned his lights on and signaled to merge onto the road and drove the little over seven miles down the road to Rennie’s school. He parked near the student center, a place where he was unlikely to get a ticket, and walked through campus to her dorm. He hoped Rennie would be in the vestibule waiting for him. Otherwise, he had no chance of getting into her dorm.
As he grew closer, he saw her sitting on a bench. He sat down beside her and placed his arm behind her. She burrowed into him and clutched his T-shirt with her fist.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” she told him. “I just needed to see you.”
Graham sighed. He suspected the guy she had been seeing dumped her, broke her heart because, according to her, he was the one. Graham hated every guy she dated. None of them were ever good enough, not when he was the one who wanted to be with her. Someday, Graham would take a chance on telling her, to put himself out there to her finally. He longed for a time when they would be more than friends with benefits, although he wasn’t willing to give that part of their relationship up anytime soon.
Graham adjusted the way he sat on the bench and held Rennie close to his chest. When it came down to why he was there, with her, it wouldn’t matter, because when she needed him, he ran to her.
Rennie shivered, and his grip tightened. “Do you want to tell me why you called at three a.m.?”
She picked her head up off his chest and angled herself to look at him. “Can’t a girl just call her best guy to come over when she needs him?”
“Aren’t you dating what’s his face?”
“You know his name is Thomas.”
“Right, Tommy,” Graham said with disdain.
“Thomas,” she corrected. Graham didn’t care. They weren’t friends and never would be.
“Whatev’, Ren.” He quieted and tried to pull her back to his chest.
“Anyway, we’re not really dating anymore. He moved to Venice to start some print shop or something. Told me to give him a call when I graduated, and we’d hook up.”