“I’m not going anywhere with him,” Carlos said.
“This is a community issue,” John-Peter said. “We need to process it as a community.”
Alcock was nodding. “Without question. But I’m going to talk with these two first. I suggest we end the meeting now.”
“Dude,” Carlos said, glaring at Eli, “I didn’t steal your notes! I didn’t take your book! I can’t believe you. This is fucked.”
“Let’s calm it down,” Professor Alcock said. “We’re going to talk about it.”
“But it isn’t true.” Carlos looked very close to tears now. Harrison stole a glance around the room. Heads were down, almost to a man. Gordon alone seemed to be staring at Carlos. “I insist on the right to hold my accuser accountable for this.”
“We’ll get to that,” said Alcock. “For now, though, let’s call it a night. Everyone, I appreciate it won’t be easy, but I strongly suggest that we leave this until we can convene with more information. Good night, all.” And he left, preceded by Eli and followed, a moment later, by an unsteady Carlos. The room was like a tomb. For the first moment, anyway.
“Holy fuck,” said somebody.
“Let’s not,” said John-Peter.
“No way Carlos did that,” said Gordon.
John-Peter said: “Gordon. We are not going to discuss this. You heard him.”
“He must believe it, though. Eli must. Why else would he say it?”
Harrison looked around. Belatedly, he realized that he was the one who’d spoken. This was how he realized which side he was on. And that there were sides.
“Bullshit, Oppenheimer.”
“Guys.” John-Peter was losing the battle.
“I’m going out to the barn,” said Tony.
A few of the others went with him, and they didn’t come back till after Harrison had gone to bed.
Chapter Fourteen
The Gift to Be Simple
In which Sally Oppenheimer experiences rapture by furniture
Sally had hoped her roommate would invite her to Ellesmere while they were both at home for the winter break. Rochelle, however, seemed to parry her many questions about the town, its history and culture, and whether she planned on visiting her old school and meeting up with her friends. Finally, Sally resorted to an outright request. “Hey, you know what would be fun? I could come out to Ellesmere. See where you’re from.”
“I beg to differ,” said Rochelle. “There is nothing remotely fun about Ellesmere.”
“Sure, but I’d love to visit you. I’ve never been to any part of Long Island but the Hamptons.”
“Consider yourself lucky,” said Rochelle.
Sally didn’t feel hurt, exactly, but she recognized an impasse. Besides, she wouldn’t have considered allowing Rochelle to enter the Oppenheimer home or experience her own family, with its unacknowledged siblings, including the one who lived in the dormitory next door and the one whose absurdly late appearance screamed family crisis.
Only three weeks after their return to campus, however, Rochelle announced that there was a problem at home, and she had to head back to Long Island for a couple of days.
“What kind of problem?” Sally asked.
“Oh, it’s the house. Too boring to go into. Mom just needs me back for a little bit.”
“Should I come with you?” Sally said.
Rochelle looked up from her laptop.