Page 36 of College Town

“Clearly.” He frowns, and traces the stem of his glass with his thumb. “Okay. Uh. This is gonna sound…dramatic.”

“Most of what you say does,” she said with a nod. “Continue.”

He flips her the bird, but halfheartedly. “Last night, when I met Tommy, I actually asked him if he was…” He drops his voice to a near-whisper, and Dana leans in closer. “In the mafia.”

When Dana doesn’t respond, he glances up at her, and finds her wearing a considering expression. His stomach sinks; he wanted her to tell him he was being stupid, but now, she looks like she’s thinking it over.

“Oh my God,” he says, and drains his glass.

“No, no, hold on. Let’s just…think about it.”

“No. There’s no way. I was just–”

She holds up a staying finger. “The insurance story was clearly bullshit. And what else would he do that Noah would be worried about?”

“People aren’t really in the mafia. That’s just in the movies.”

“I mean…some people are in the mafia.”

“Not Tommy.”

She shrugs. “He’s Italian, right? And he was always secretive about his family.”

Dread’s building in the pit of Lawson’s stomach. He ought to have something to eat; he wants another glass of wine. He needs to go home and help Mom with his dad.

“What?” Dana prompts.

“He said that his dad was…murdered.”

She gasps.

“That’s why they moved here back in eighth grade.”

“Damn. He really is in the mafia.”

“Lots of people get murdered,” he reasons.

“No, no, don’t ruin this for me. This is the most exciting thing that’s happened in forever.” She sucks in a breath and bites her lip in outward regret the moment she says it. “Shit, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…” She trails off when he waves to saywhatever.

They sit in silence a moment, Lawson spinning his empty glass between his hands and desperately wanting a second.

Dana says, “So Noah was trying to warn you off of him.”

He doesn’t know if it’s a relief to focus on that aspect of Noah’s visit, but it at least makes more sense. “Yeah. Basically.” Anger flares, and he grabs at it, because it’s better than fear, better than loss. “Can you believe that shit? LikeIwas the one who totally fuckedhimover? Like I was–” His breath catches, and he presses his lips tight together. “Fuck it, I’m getting another round.” He catches a glimpse of her sympathetic glance as he gets up, and is doubly glad for an excuse to go to the bar.

It takes fifteen minutes to get them refills, and by the time he returns, he’s…not calmer, but less hotly upset over the past. He’s tucked his memories away again, and he thinks he’s got the latch on tightly enough this time.

Dana looks contrite. “Noah wasn’t ever like that, before,” she says. “Protective, you know. He minded his business, and Tommy minded his.”

“Tommy never gave you a shovel talk about Noah?” His tone misses the teasing mark.

“No.”

Lawson swallows wine, and says, “You’re not upset that he’s back in town?”

“I’m angry that those two idiots madeyouupset. But, no. I got over Noah ages ago.”

“Must be nice,” he says, bitterly, and raises his glass again.

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