I take another deep breath, my eyes on the ceiling. “I don’t know. Us, the trial, everything,” I say, unsure if I really want to go into detail. A part of me hopes Ruby is sleepy enough that she’ll fall back to sleep and I won’t have to tell her anything.
But then I feel her hand on my chest as she says, “It might help,” and I know she’s not going to.
But instead of telling her about my dream, I roll onto my side, facing her as I pull her closer and say, “Can I ask you something?”
Ruby blinks her eyes open. “Of course.”
I brush the hair back from her face, not sure if I’m going to regret this or not. “Will you come with me next week?”
“To see your therapist?” she asks. “Of course.”
“No, I mean, will you come into the appointment with me?” I ask. “Be there when I talk to her?”
Ruby swallows and although it’s dark in her room, I don’t miss the confusion and uncertainty on her face at my request. “Of course,” she eventually whispers.
I pull her closer so her face is buried against my chest as I close my eyes and try to control the anxiety I can already feel building. Not just at the idea of Ruby being there when I spill my secrets, but what she’ll think when she hears about this latest dream.
Liz and I had spoken of my inability to sleep again, how my nightmares have returned but aren’t just about Providence and all the shit I went through back there, but now also include all the crap that’s happened here too.
But this is the first time I’ve had a dream that’s included Ruby. And it scares the fuck out of me because I have no idea what that’s supposed to mean.
Chapter Seventeen
Ruby
A new year is supposed to bring new adventures, but we’re just happy with quiet and uneventful. Caleb’s first day back at work went well, routine and dare I say it, normal. I hate that he had a nightmare, but with the rising sun the next morning, things seemed to have dissipated, like it didn’t even happen. And now he’s off at work, hopefully pushing through.
We still have another week till the spring semester begins, but I can feel it breathing down my neck. Being able to be home with Caleb during all of this has been great. It’s made it easier to navigate things with him and be there for him. With this being the end of my junior year, my classes are about to get harder, the workload heavier and the time more pressing. Beyond that though is the fact that I’m going to have to go back into a lecture hall where Professor Keller could possibly be my teacher again.
It’s been clouding my brain for the last few hours, living there in the back of my mind that’s already filled with too much worry and doubt.
“Have you checked to see if he’s listed as the instructor?” Sie asks, as we sit side by side on the couch, talking about whether I need to be worried about this or not. I haven’t said a word to Caleb about it and I’ve sworn Sienna to secrecy.
“Like a million times, but it’s still listed at TBD. Like what the hell is that? Classes start in a week. Why doesn’t the university have their shit together?”
I need someone to blame, someone to help ease this anxiety that flows through my body like an electric current. I drag a hand through my hair, catching on a few knots making me realize I haven’t showered yet today.
“In their defense they’re always hiring adjunct staff at the last minute to fill positions and maybe they’re actually trying to arrange it so you don’t have him,” Sie tosses out there. She shrugs as she looks at me, as equally unsure as I am.
“Do you really think a university this size is concerned about me and who my professor is?” I’m not trying to be argumentative, but every word I say comes out that way.
“Given your boyfriend beat him up for jacking off outside your bedroom window, I would damn well hope so. I can’t believe he wasn’t fired on the spot.”
This is something we’ve talked about endlessly. It’s something that comes up at least once a day between us because the ludicrousness of it is so appalling. How do you keep someone on staff who was witnessed doing something that most would be arrested for? But he’s a high profile professor and Caleb is a loose cannon with mental health issues and if you believe everything you read, he’s an alcoholic, a drug addict and a thief. None of which are true, but when you’re up against an esteemed professor, it doesn’t matter what is fact or fiction.
“No one cares to ask me how I feel about it. The university never once interviewed me and when I questioned them about my spring semester’s courses, they even told me I should consider another major or transfer to another school,” I tell Sie, even though she’s heard this all before. I just keep repeating it in the hopes I’ll eventually process what it means.
But I know what it means. It means what Caleb saw wasn’t valid. It means that my safety isn’t a priority to the university and it means that if you have enough money, a big enough reputation, you can get away with anything.
“Have you considered that?” she now asks, her words feather light as if she doesn’t want to really know the answer.
“Fuck no.”
“Good,” she says, a devilish smirk on her face. “This isn’t over for any of us, you know that, right? We’ve spent all this time focusing on Caleb, but you are part of this, too.”
“Yeah, I know. It’s hard to see it that way because what’s happening to Caleb is so much bigger. Do you think anything will happen to Professor Keller?” I ask, apprehension plaguing my tone.
“I like to hope so, but I have no idea,” Sienna responds. “This would be one of those times where Reid’s dad would come in handy. He could pay him a visit.” Even though I know she’s joking, her humor catches me off guard.
I shake my head, not wanting to shame her for trying to make a joke, but the reality is, it’s something Caleb struggles with every single day. He doesn’t say it out loud, yet it’s there. He’s alluded to it and I know he worries he’s no better than Reid’s dad. He worries what he did to Professor Keller makes him just as much of a vigilante, just as impulsive and reckless. These are all things that need to be discussed with his therapist and I just keep holding out hope that he gets there.
“Sorry, that was in poor taste,” Sienna now adds, looking down at her feet.
“Nah, I got that it was a joke. Sometimes that’s all we can do is try to make light of it or it will eat us alive.”
“Does it scare him?” she now asks, not elaborating enough.
“Does what scare him?” I ask, wondering if she can read my thoughts.
“Does it scare him that he lost control like that?”
Her words churn bile from my stomach up into my throat. It’s a question I ask myself daily. I would say yes, and every time I think of it the answer is yes, but I haven’t found the courage to ask him out loud. He worries about me and has asked if he scares me, but we’ve never gone as far to flip the question, to ask if he scares himself.
“He doesn’t talk about it, but I would think it does.” These conversations aren’t my favorite. I never want to give too much away or share something Caleb may not want Sie to know. They may be siblings, but he doesn’t share everything with her.