Page 77 of The Freshman

“I know, okay? I wasstupid … but he was never an animal toward me.”

She widened her eyes, and her pupilsretracted to mere flecks. “You’re kidding me, right? This wasn’tjust sex was it… He’s the guy you were hung up on. He got you thatcoat.”

Alfie’s stomach fizzled with uneaseand he gripped his head harder. “He wasn’t evil. He looked out forme.”

Tia jabbed him hard in the shoulder.“Can you not see he’s used you? He seduced you, thenleft.”

“He tried to takeme—"

“I can’t believe I’mhearing this. He tried to take you, but it was too difficult, andhe dumped you in the road to die.”

Alfie bit the side of his cheek andsqueezed his eyes shut.

“Where is he now? If hecared about you, where is he?”

“I-I don’tknow.”

Tia flapped the paper in her hand.“This is serious—”

“You think I don’t knowthat. I’m going to get time for sure. An ex-prison officer lockedup, the inmates will hate me, and so will the officers. I might geta year if I’m lucky, but that’s plenty of time for them to dodamage. I know I’m stupid Tia. It just happened.”

“But … knowing what hedid, why would you even go in there? Why would you even talk tohim?”

Alfie sighed through his nose. “I knewhe was in there for murder, and I knew what he must’ve done wasbad, but I never read the details. I didn’t want to.”

Tia eyes bored into the side of hisface, and when he turned to her she wore an expression ofdisappointment. The look a mother would give their naïve child.“You didn’t read what he did? He killed those guys for no reason,lured them in, one his own father. He’s twisted andmanipulative.”

“He had a reason!” Alfiesnapped.

“What was it?”

“They-they hurt someone hecared about. He did it for revenge, to make that person feel safeagain.”

Tia bunched her lips together andshook her head. “There’s no mention of that in the articles. Let meguess, he told you that was why he did it? And you fell for it andbelieved him.”

Alfie opened his mouth to argue, buthis voice box went mute. The angry swirling in his gut intensified,and he bolted off the sofa, jarring his groin as he went. Hestaggered to the sink and threw up the contents of his unfedstomach. Each heave ached his ribs and burned histhroat.

Tia watched him from the sofa with nosympathy.

“All this time you saidyou never wanted to rely on someone, and you give in to a violentmurderer who tortured three guys. He manipulated you, used you forfun, and then left you to die.”

Alfie bobbed his head in the sink andthrew up again, clutching his sides as fire spluttered out ofhim.

****

The weeks that followed went by in ablur. He was numb and didn’t allow his mind to linger. If Natetried to sneak into his thoughts, he shoved him away, thought ofanything but the inmate.

His ribs stopped aching, and he couldwalk without crutches, although if he moved too fast his leg gaveout, and he dropped to the ground. Not just Nate’s name wassplashed all over the paper, but his too when he appeared at themagistrate’s court. He pleaded guilty and was bailed again untilsentencing.

He didn’t leave the house, and when heordered groceries, the drivers wrinkled their noses and curledtheir lips.

Tia stopped visiting and distancedherself from the situation. Alfie didn’t blame her, and he didn’tfight for their friendship. The press hounded her, and she had herown life that shouldn’t be soiled by him and his choices. The lasttime they spoke, she said she’d see him when he got out.

Nate dragging him from the car hadbeen the perfect distraction. Gareth, Alfie’s attorney, describedthe move as genius. Alfie was the fall-guy, was always the fallguy, but he never even knew it. The police spent time and resourcestrying to link the escape to Alfie and gifted Nate with the perfectwindow of opportunity to vanish overseas. The public wanted someoneto pay for the escape, and the only person left was Alfie. Therehad been sightings of Nate from members of the public in France andPortugal, but he hadn’t been caught.

Alfie’s body healed, but he was anempty shell. The numbness persisted, and he welcomed feelingnothing. The alternative was breaking down, dropping to his knees,and screaming.

The day before sentencing was hisnineteenth birthday. He snorted bitterly after his third swig ofwhiskey. No longer a Freshman. He doubted many real Freshman spenttheir second year banged up in prison. It was going to be the worseyear of his life, and he was to blame.

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