College Girl by Shelia Grace Page A

and
shutting off the music.
    “Wake-y, wake-y, shit head,” I
said to the pile of blankets.
    “What the fuck, man?” mumbled a
groggy voice.
    The shapeless mass shot up in bed,
staring blearily at me.
    “How does it feel?” I asked.
    “How the fuck does what feel?”
    “To be stalked?”
    “Who the fuck are you?” he
growled, jumping out of bed.
    I held out the bat at arm’s length
until he backed up against the wall. His watery, blood-shot brown eyes narrowed
with recognition.
    “I fucken know you. You were with
that little freshman from Salinas’s workshop. Look, man. I didn’t know you got
there first. I just thought she was fresh meat.”
    I stepped forward and let my arm
bend until the bat was pressed up against his throat. He flinched when I leaned
toward him.
    “Listen very carefully, you
fucking sadist. If I see you anywhere near her … if you so much as look at
her—or any other girl on this campus—you’re going to find yourself
fifty miles from here buried up to your neck in pig shit. If you doubt me …” I
laughed humorlessly. “Well, go ahead. See what happens. People disappear
everyday.”
    I eased up with the bat, and he
coughed. I had just started walking toward the front of the apartment—and
fresh air—when I heard the heavy steps of someone very hung over thudding
toward me. Turning in the narrow hallway, I figured why not? I pulled back and
cold-cocked the guy.
    By the time I got back to the
house, I felt better. Opening the front door, I looked down at my knuckles. It
had felt good to smash that guy’s face. I smiled. Let him go to the cops to
report me and then explain his night job as the campus rapist. I looked down at
the picture of Alex Reed, her expression serious as she left Mercer.
    I worked until sometime past two
in the morning before passing out. Monday I went into the department. When I
ran into Jess, I asked if he wanted to go over to the courts. A hair shy of
turning into Robertson with his math obsession, Jess talked about his thesis
the entire walk over to the Rec Center. I shot him the ball, and he grinned at
me.
    “Brenda says your stalking some
undergrad.”
    “Stalking? Brenda’s got a vivid
imagination—and a big mouth. But, hey. At least
she got you to concentrate on something other than your thesis for once.”
    “What I’m working on right now is
going to blow everything else out of the water,” Jess said.
    “Good to know you’re staying
humble.”
    “So? Stalking? Seems beneath you,
Matthews.”
    I blocked his shot, which was easy
to do with half a foot on him.
    “Your fiancée’s got it turned
around. I wasn’t stalking anyone. I caught some douchebag following a little
freshman from Robertson’s intro class. I just took a little trip over to his
apartment and scared the shit out of him.”
    Jess threw me the ball.
    “Yeah? Why didn’t you just let the
campus cops handle it?”
    “And let the guy grab her the next
time she walked to the library? What if it had been Brenda?”
    Jess nodded, and I took the shot.
    “Was she hot? The freshman?”
    “She was eighteen.”
    “That’s legal.”
    “Legal, not ethical,” I corrected
him.
    Which reminded me: how the fuck
far had I been from ethical last Thursday?
    “But was she into you? I mean, you
should get something for having
Robertson as an advisor,” Jess laughed.
    We played two more games before I
reminded him that Brenda would be getting off work. I headed back to the house,
and by the time I got out of the shower I had two voicemails. One from my mother. And the other from
Gretchen.
    That was the problem. They both
thought that I was going to come to my
senses . My mother liked Gretchen. Of course, I hadn’t told her about
Gretchen’s penchant for pill popping. I didn’t need to instigate more fucking
drama in my life.
    “Hello, dear. I wanted to remind
you about your father’s event. Please wear a tie … and I’d really love it if
you would call Gretchen to work things