Page 90 of Jack

In fact, the more the high school guy continued hitting on Emmy, the more she kept looking back at Ivan, discomfort written all over face. She didn’t want this guy’s attention and she wanted Ivan to know it. I shot Hannah a look and decided to step in myself, but noticed Ivan making his way in this direction, his jaw looking clenched hard enough to break cement.

I caught Emmy’s eye. “Hey, Emmy, are you going to play the harp tonight? I love to listen to it and I’m bummed I missed you playing at the graduation.”

“Actually, I brought my miniature harp with me, do you want me to go get it?” she asked hopefully.

“That would be awesome!”

The guy trying to pick her up shot me a dirty look, but Emmy looked relieved. “Sure, I’ll go get it. Excuse me,” she murmured to her unwanted admirer.

The aggravated looking guy turned to me and opened his mouth, most likely to complain about interrupting his attempt to flirt with Emmy, when Ivan stepped forward and grabbed him by the front of his button-down Polo shirt.

“She’s fucking sixteen, you horny asshole. Go find someone else to hit on,” Ivan growled.

The guy took one look at Ivan’s grim, borderline violent expression and did the wise thing. He audibly gulped and walked away.

Katya gave him a dry look.

“What?” he growled.

“I believe she’s seventeen,” Katya replied.

“So what? She’s still fucking traumatized. She doesn’t need that asshole bugging her.”

“How do you know she’s still traumatized?” Katya asked, both she and Hannah looking at him closely. Ivan shrugged, taking a healthy sip of what looked like straight vodka. Damn, these Russians and their vodka.

Ivan shot her a hard look. “Who wouldn’t be after that bullshit with Yuri.” He tossed back the rest of his drink and walked back over to the bar, effectively ending the conversation.

There was an awkward silence for a moment, none of us quite sure how to interpret Ivan’s actions.

“So, where’s everyone going to college?” Katya asked brightly, maybe feeling guilty for having needled Ivan in the first place, and eager to move the conversation to a less uncomfortable topic, particularly before Emmy returned.

“Well, Jack and I are headed out of state. We both got accepted to UNC, so we’re going down to look for apartments in Chapel Hill later this summer.” Jack and I both decided we wanted to go out of state for college. In fact, my parents were looking to move down there, too. Jack wanted to get away from his parents completely, and I wanted to move now that Chad knew where we lived. He had left us alone after the incident at my house, but of course, due to his father’s influence and money, served no time for his crimes.

“Oh, wow, that’s so cool!” Katya replied.

Hannah put on an exaggerated pouty face. “It is cool, but it’s also a total bummer. I don’t want you guys to move so far away.”

I laughed. “I know, but we’ll come back to visit, and you guys are definitely coming down to visit us.”

“What are you guys majoring in? Do you know yet?” Katya asked. I guess we were going to have to get used to hearing that ubiquitous college-specific inquiry.

“Jack’s majoring in mechanical engineering and I’m majoring in psychology.”

Hannah shot me a questioning look. I had just decided on my major this weekend after a lot of deliberation. “Is this because of Casey?”

“Casey? Oh, that girl who was hassling you guys?” Katya asked. “Whatever happened to her?”

Jack answered. “Her parents ended up sending her away to some mental health resort out west. I asked Addison about her, but she said Casey’s parents wouldn’t really tell her anything. I think they’re embarrassed and want everybody to just forget it ever happened. As if,” Jack grumbled.

“Man, it seems like the treatment they are giving her is what made her so messed up in the first place,” Hannah said. “The isolation.”

Another lull fell over the group as we pondered Casey’s fate. Fortunately, Emmy returned with a small harp in her hands. “Any requests?” she said jokingly.

“Free bird?” Jack deadpanned, lightening the mood considerably.

*****

Emmy started to play, her music haunting and beautiful, and I found myself snuggling against Jack’s chest in the lounge chair we were sharing. In fact, I looked around and found most of the audience entranced, both with the music and the musician. Emmy really sank into her performance, seeming to drift off as she was playing. It was captivating. I looked around for Ivan, curious at how he responded to her music, but he was nowhere to be found.

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