He throws himself down on the seat next to me, scrubbing a hand over his five-o’clock shadow.
“What’re you working on?” he asks offhandedly.
I’m reticent about answering, considering how hostile he is to me normally.
“Just picking out a few things,” I answer vaguely.
“Give me that,” he says, wiggling his fingers at the guitar.
I hand it over because I’m really not in the mood to get into a fight.
He picks out some notes and then replicates what I’ve been playing with some modifications that admittedly make the song better.
“Do a D here instead,” he says as he plays. “It fits with the refrain better.”
He continues strumming, crafting some other changes as he goes. I quietly grab the iPad to note the combinations he’s making.
“Oh, dudes!” Colin comes out of his pot-induced stupor and takes off his headphones. “Are we jamming? I want in.” He grabs his bass from the seat next to him and listens for a minute before joining Mike with a pulsing complementary refrain. When it gets to the chorus, he commands, “Words, Joss.”
I start to sing the lyrics I’ve written so far, Mike throwing in a couple of suggestions as we go. I see Mel and one of the crew guys sitting nearby stop what they’re doing and listen to us.
After we’ve gone through it twice and I’ve put more notes down, Colin hollers to the back of the bus, “Walsh! Get your pussy-whipped ass out here and jam with us.”
A moment later Walsh strolls in, one eyebrow cocked, trying to decide if he needs to give Colin shit back or not.
“What the hell’s going on?” he asks with the hint of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth.
“We’re jamming, man. Joss’s got a new song,” Colin says as he thrums out the chorus again.
Walsh reaches into the back pocket of his jeans and produces a pair of drumsticks. “Like a Boy Scout,” he chuckles, referring to being prepared, as he sits down across the aisle from me. He swivels his chair so it’s facing the built-in table next to it and taps out a rock-star worthy set of rhythms. I laugh.
“Let’s do this,” says Mike as he plays an intro to the song that I didn’t write but sounds wickedly great.
I sing and Colin hops in as Walsh catches the rhythm and then speeds it up, nodding his head when we follow his lead and change the pace. When the chorus comes, Mike and Colin chime in and Walsh laughs as he tries to keep up with the words. I look over at Mel, whose smile is like a one hundred-watt bulb, and I catch her eye. She gives me a wink, and my heart soars. My beautiful girl, my band, and good music, if only it were this simple all the time.
We’ve finished the show in New York and now the guys are partying. I go to have a drink, but Mel’s gone back to the hotel, saying she had a headache, so I don’t stay long.
When I arrive at the suite, Mel’s in bed with the lights out. I undress and climb in beside her, stroking her hair. “Are you okay, baby?” I whisper in the darkness.
I hear her sniff. “Yeah, just tired I guess.”
“Did you take something for the headache?”
“Um, I don’t really remember,” she answers as she sighs softly.
“C’mere.” I gently pull on her shoulder to get her to roll over so she’s not facing away from me. “Hey, what’s going on? You seem upset about something.”
She clears her throat then says, “No. Everything’s fine.”
“Yeah? So our music isn’t finally hurting your head?”
She laughs, but it’s empty, not her usual giggle. “No.”
“Did you talk to Tammy tonight or something?”
“Joss, I’m fine. Just leave it be,” she snaps at me. She’s never snapped at me. Mel simply doesn’t do that. Now I know something’s wrong, and if something’s wrong with Mel, I have to fix it. I just have to.
I sit up and reach over her to turn on the lamp next to the bed. She cringes away from the invasion of light until her eyes adjust. I look down at her as she blinks. Immediately I can see that she’s been crying. I can also see the moment she realizes I know. She tries to turn away from me quickly, but I catch her, grasping each of her shoulders and lifting her up until she’s sitting beside me. Pushing the hair out of her face, I run my thumb along the puffy skin below her beautiful baby blues.
“What happened, sweet Mel? You know I’m not going to stop until you tell me, so out with it.”
She looks at me briefly, and I can see a certain fear flit across her face. She nibbles on her lower lip, and I reach down and gently pull it free before stroking her cheek. She’s making me hurt somewhere deep inside. I don’t want to see this look on her face ever again, and I feel like I’d do just about anything to erase it.
Her gaze drifts down to the sheet lying across her lap. “It’s about school. I was hoping for something that didn’t work out is all.”
“I’m so sorry. I thought you were all done with school though.”
“No. I mean, I told everyone I was—” Her voice fades as she looks away from me and struggles not to cry. Finally she takes a deep breath and forges on. “I made a mistake, Joss. A huge mistake, and now it looks like it might cost me everything I worked for all these years.”
“Oh, baby, what happened?” My chest aches to see the pain in her eyes.
“My last semester of school, this winter, I took a class from a professor who’s really important. He’s famous in photojournalism, and students would kill to get into his course, but he hand selects the top students for this final section before they graduate.
“From the very beginning of the semester, he was really encouraging about my work. Saying I had a bright future and he could help me make contacts after graduation. I was so flattered, Joss. I’d worked hard to get to where I was. I was the top student in my program, you know?”
I nod and kiss her on the forehead, not saying what’s going through my head. Of course you were. You’re brilliant at everything you touch.
“One thing led to another, and pretty soon Professor Marin—that’s his name—was asking me to come to his office after hours and then to coffee with him. Before I knew what was happening, I’d started seeing him. Like dating him.”
I feel my stomach twist inside of me, and my heart burns with a surge of acid that strips it raw.
Mel looks at me, her expression serious and so frightened. I try to school my features because I don’t want her to think I’m mad at her.
“It’s okay,” I say a little gruffly. “Go on.”
She gives one quick little nod. “So, we slept together for a couple of months. Then, toward the end of the semester, he called me less and less and quit talking to me in class. I figured it was just that the whole thing had run its course. I didn’t care about him, I swear. He was interesting and he knew everyone who was anyone in my field. I was flattered someone like him would want to spend time with me. It was for kicks though, nothing more.
“Then we turned in our final projects. I got all A’s through school, Joss. I’d gotten all A’s in Marin’s class. But my final project came back with a grade of a C.”
I can’t control myself anymore. “That fucking bastard,” I snarl. Mel jerks like I’ve slapped her. “Sorry. I’m sorry. Tell me the rest.” I try to relax as I rub the back of her neck while she talks.
“I still would have passed and gotten the degree, but that C meant I was out of the running for the award given to the top graduate in the program every year, the Eddie Adams award. I’d worked for six years to get that award. Everyone knew it was mine for the taking. Then one of my friends told me people had been talking about me being involved with Marin, and I realized he’d given me that C to throw everyone off the scent. They’d be expecting him to show me favoritism so he did the opposite.”
There’s a flame of fury pulsing through me now, and it’s taking everything I’ve got not to get on the next plane to Seattle and kick this fucker’s ass for screwing with my girl. I seriously want to see his blood on my hands.
“I went to the Dean’s office,” she continues. “I told them about the affair and asked for a review to try to get my grade changed. It was probably stupid. Marin told me I was lucky to get off as easy as I did. But it seemed so unfair, and I wanted that award more than I’d ever wanted anything.”
She sighs heavily, and I wait, giving her time to pull the rest out of that place we all have deep inside, where we bury the things that hurt us, and often those around us.
“I got an email today. The committee met and they’ve tossed out my grade, but they’ve ruled the class is invalid. Now a different committee has to decide if I can retake the course or if they won’t let me get the degree at all.”
She stops talking and slumps back against the headboard. I lean forward, arms on my bent knees, and run a hand through my hair. The only thought that keeps cycling through my head is that if it’s the last thing I do I’ll make this fucker pay. Screwing coeds and then punishing them for going along with him? What an asshole.
I look back at Mel, who has fresh tears rolling down her cheeks. I reach over and pull her to me, squeezing her tight. “I’m so sorry that happened to you, sweetheart. The guy is a fucking prick and he deserves to spend about a month strung up by his balls somewhere public.”