Page 60 of College Town

“Shit,” Dana says, then, with great feeling, “shit. He really is in the mafia, isn’t he?”

“I can neither confirm nor deny that.”

“Law. Jesus Christ – are you – holy shit.” She sounds like she’s hyperventilating. “Christ. Where are you? I’ll come and – Leo and I can–”

“No.” Lawson sits up, tone going hard, heart thumping wildly. “Absolutely not.” Then, relenting, “I’m fine, Dana. Honestly.”

“No you’re not.” She sighs. “Is Tommy being a dick to you?”

“No, he’s…no. He’s been…fine.” His tongueitchesto tell her more.He rescued me out of that parking lot. He drove me here. He said that lying to me is more awful than all the awful things he’s done. He said he had topretendhe didn’t love me. I wonder if he does, still. I wonder if I can forgive him enough to–

He snips the thoughts off, neat and clean, and takes a deep breath.

“Believe it or not, I think he’s actually trying to look out for me.”

“Oh, Lawson.”

“I’m not being delusional.”

She lets out a deep, tired-sounding breath. “I know.”

“I’mnot.”

“I’m worried about you.”

“You shouldn’t be,” he says with false confidence. He’s worried, too, but not that he’s going to get whacked. His heart might, despite his best efforts. “I’m fine. But, I’m stuck here.”

He hears a rustle of cloth, like Dana’s sitting up straight in her office chair. Her voice goes brisk and efficient. “Your parents.”

“Yeah. They’re–”

“Taken care of. Don’t worry for a second,” she says, with that maternal balm that’s always assured him things would be okay, no matter how bad they seemed. “Leo and I’ll head over there. Take them dinner. Explain that…” She pauses. “What do you want us to tell them about you? Or do you want to call yourself?”

He debates a moment, and all he can envision is breaking down into ugly sobs as he tries to convince his mother that the boy he loved in high school is back in town and keeping him up in a tower Rapunzel-style, but that he’s fine, and not to worry.

He gulps. “Just tell her that I’m…I dunno. Helping a friend move?” It sounds terribly lame.

Dana must think so, too, because she says, “Right. I’ll come up with something.”

“Thanks. You’re a lifesaver.”

“Don’t I know it.” She softens again. “Are you really okay? I mean, really?”

He knows she wants the truth, therealtruth, and not a brave face. And the truth is, he doesn’t know.

“Does it matter?” he asks, and hates how small his voice becomes.

“Oh, sweetie. It matters to me.”

He sniffs hard, and blinks, and keeps the tears back. “Text me when you get my parents all settled?”

“Absolutely.”

“Thank you, Dana. And tell Leo I said thanks, too. I love you.”

“I love you, too. Be safe. In general, but with Tommy, too.”

“Yeah.”

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