Page 42 of Hushed

“Because I’m not the same person I was in high school,” Matt says, like he’s been trained to explain himself anyway.

“But you are the same person. It’s not that long,” Levi says, pouncing on the admission. “Since high school, that is.” He looks pleased with himself for remembering that he’s pretending to be a high school classmate.

“Yes, but…I don’t think I’d like to relive old memories with you,” Matt answers.

“Maybe I just want to create new ones.”

“Okay,” I intervene. It’s been moving too fast and I regret every part of this idea. “Thank you. So, Matt is telling me he feels differently. But at the same time, he’s not a different person, as Levi helpfully reminded us. That means that Levi’s going to experience dissonance to reconcile those two images—one which Levi is holding from the past, and one which is from the present. Both of these versions of Matt are valid, because the clear message here is that things are different now, and what you wanted is impossible. Even if you thought you wanted that future before, you know that it cannot happen without so much destruction it would ruin your life.”

“Exactly,” Matt says. He looks relieved to have this over with.

I had a whole lecture planned for the rest of the time, but now I give up. I need to report this to Molly. Fuck it. Give them the homework and dismiss early. I smile and pretend that this was the plan all along.

“For tomorrow’s lab,” I say. “I want you to play the two truths and a lie game, but each of you will have separate instructions. Some of you will be doing it for someone you’re physically attracted to or want to get to know more personally. Some of you will be doing it for a boss or someone you respect. Some of you will be doing it for a fellow classmate that you don’t particularly care about one way or the other, some of you will be doing it for someone you actively hate. Tomorrow, when you present your truth and lies, I want you to guess which card they got by what they reveal. And then we’ll have a conversation about how their choices about what to reveal and what to make up about themselves changed based upon code-switching.” This was going to be next week’s assignment, but it’s what I have on me and I can figure out next week later on. When I’m not rattled.

“I think we have enough to get started on today. I’m going to call it a day, and give you the rest of the morning. This class is full, so if you want me to add you, it has to be using a manual drop-add slip, so I will be here to sign them. For everybody else, I’ll see you in Labs A or B tomorrow, where we’ll look at your truths and lies in action.”

I can’t get out of that room fast enough. I know that I signed some drop-add forms, but honestly I could have put my signature on state secrets and wouldn’t have known the difference. Levi didn’t come up for one and I didn’t call him over. I finish signing and bolt out of the room as fast as I can, taking the back stairs up to the fifth floor, half expecting Levi to jump out from behind every corner.

I close my office door behind me and lean against it, sliding onto the floor. I don’t know what to do. My heart is hammering inside my body and I can’t catch my breath.

I feel wretched about what I’ve done. To Levi. And to poor Matt. I let Levi work on him, and it got totally out of control within only a few seconds. I panicked.

This is bad. And the worst part of it is that when I saw him sitting in that seat, I wasn’t horrified. I was happy.

My cell rings in my pocket and I jump. The display reads Private Number and my heart lodges in my throat. How did Levi get my number at all? I click the answer button.

“Bastien? It’s Ronald. Potentially good news.”

I blink. Ronald. Ronald, my lawyer. Ronald, my connection to the real world. I force myself to regulate my breath. “I’d love any kind of good news today,” I say, getting off the filthy floor.

“My investigator found something interesting about the Reeve family. Mrs. Reeve has quite a litigation history. Three previous lawsuits, all targeting mental health providers or support services. All dismissed or settled with prejudice.” He sounds cautiously optimistic, which for a lawyer is practically giddy.

I go to the window and stare out at the campus. “So, she’s done this before?”

“The VA, a private therapist, even an online support group.”

I close my eyes. “So she’s just looking for someone to blame.”

“That’s what it looks like. This significantly undermines her credibility with the committee. You’re not out of the woods yet,” he warns, “but this helps. Keep doing what you’re doing. No incidents, no complications. We might actually get through this.”

“Right. No complications.” I push Levi out of my head. And then, because I cannot help myself: “Ronald. In Washington you told me to keep my nose clean. What would that look like? Keeping my nose clean.” The question itself sounds absurd, like I’m shopping around for boundaries that I can push against.

“A clean nose?” He sounds like a man being asked to explain a doorknob. “Don’t call the Reeves. Don’t go interviewing anybody out of the San Miguel cohort. Don’t put anything in writing to a person who knew him. The obvious things.” A pause. “Why?”

“So there was no blanket prohibition out there about who I see—”

“Aside from in Chen’s head? No way. They don’t get to have a fishing expedition just because one guy doesn’t like you.” Somebody says something to him on his end and he covers the phone to answer them. “Sorry. Where were we?”

I don’t answer.

Ronald doesn’t seem to notice my silence. This is, for him, a task to get over with. “I’ll forward the documentation, but given this, I’m going to press them to put an end to this witch hunt. You could have your life back within a few weeks.”

“That’s great,” I say, looking out at the students five floors below me. This is my world. It’s peaceful, it’s orderly, and it will be safe for as long as I make the right decisions.

“You don’t sound like it’s great,” Ronald says.

“No, Ronald. I would be grateful to have this done. I just…it’s a technicality, you know? Not an exoneration.”