Page 68 of Turning Back

“Why?” Rochelle laughs.

We’ve never talked about this with her. Hell, anyone. Why not? Why didn’t we ever tell Rochelle personal things about ourselves?

“I guess he just wanted to get a feel for it. I dunno. I never asked him. He was so fucking weird. He got caught too. Right after the first exam. The professor was like, ‘Mr. Baldwin, you’re not a student here. Get out of my classroom.’”

Bric and I both laugh. “I wasn’t there,” I say. “I was two years behind Bric in school. We went to the same high school, so I was still a junior when all this was going down.”

“Which is a good thing in retrospect,” Bric says. “Because if you were there, I’d never have bothered with him.”

“Were you guys friends already?” Rochelle asks, looking over her shoulder at me.

We both nod.

“Were you playing a game together back then?”

“Sorta,” Bric says. “We double-teamed a girl in high school.”

“God, that was a disaster.” I laugh.

“You little perverts,” Rochelle says.

Bric shrugs. “It was hot as fuck. No guy is going to turn that shit down. And it was Quin’s idea. Blame him.”

“It was a joke,” I explain when Rochelle looks over her shoulder at me again. “I was fucking around and that chick said yes. You don’t say no to that.”

“So how does Smith come into the picture?” she asks.

“I saw him the next semester,” Bric says. “Trying to take differential equations. That class was smaller. A lot smaller. So I was just waiting for it this time. He got busted the second week. And when I walked out of that class, he was outside the building. He stopped me and asked if he could have my hoodie because he was cold.”

“Your hoodie?” Rochelle laughs.

“You have no idea,” I say. “That was just the first strange request we got from Smith that year.”

“So you became friends with him?”

“I wouldn’t even call it friends,” Bric says. “He was so fucking odd. He didn’t have a home. He was only eighteen. So basically, he lived on the streets. But every now and then he’d show up on campus dressed in this five-thousand-dollar suit, you know?”

“Like he does now,” she says.

“Right. So I couldn’t figure it out. I was fascinated, if I’m being honest.”

“We invited him to a party,” I say. “And he was almost normal when he arrived. At least he was dressed normal. Jeans, t-shirt, boots and flannel, you know? Classic grunge. He must’ve gotten some cool kid to donate to his cause that day.” Bric busts out laughing at the memory. “So the three of us were just hanging out. Drinking beer and getting high and shit. And this girl comes up and points to each of us. One at a time. And then she says, ‘Follow me.’”

“We fucked her upstairs in someone’s bedroom. All three of us,” Bric says.

“And you weren’t virgins?” Rochelle laughs. “Because I’m picturing the three of you like a bunch of virgin nerds who get the offer of a lifetime.”

“Nah,” Bric laughs. “Quin and I had double-teamed for a while by then. I think she knew that.”

“For sure knew that,” I add.

“We dated her on and off, the three of us, all through college. Smith’s parents died when he was eighteen and he became this über-rich multi-billionaire. That’s when he went on his I-refuse-to-own-anything kick. He semi-lived with me in the dorms that second year of college. Then, when Quin graduated and we had enough money saved, we got a place together. That girl was around a bunch. But we had others. And then I went to med school, Quin started his business, and Smith donated money for the building we’d later turn into the Club.”

“So you guys have been doing this a very long time?”

“Very long time,” Bric says. “You know… since we were teenagers, Rochelle. Our whole adult lives.”

“And it’s not something you can easily see yourselves leaving behind?” she asks, her voice smaller now.