Graham got right to the point. “Who’s fucking with Bella?”
“I have no idea,” I said truthfully.
“It was someone from Beta Rho, though,” Graham said. “That website is theirs.”
“Sure,” I agreed. “But that’s… forty guys?”
Graham flushed. “Seriously, if you have any idea…”
Rikker put a hand on Graham’s shoulder. “He hears you, babe. Message received.”
Graham’s shoulders slumped. “I just… I hate that some asshole is getting away with this.”
“No kidding,” I grunted. “It’s all I think about.”
Rikker lifted his eyebrows. “Is it?”
Now they were both staring at me. “How do you know Bella, anyway?” Graham asked.
Smooth, Rafe. “We’re neighbors,” I said. There was a beat of silence during which both guys seemed to debate whether to ask me more questions. “Look. If you want to help Bella, make sure she eats dinner tonight. I’ll be at a team meal.”
Rikker’s eyebrows shot up again. “She’s not eating?”
“She’s avoiding public places,” I said. “Or maybe she isn’t anymore. But it would be great if you could check.”
“Done,” Graham said. “I’ll bring her some dinner.”
“I have to get back to work,” I said.
“Hey, thanks!” Rikker called after me.
I walked back into the kitchen, wondering why he was thanking me. Had I helped Bella at all?
I really had no idea.
The soccer schedule swallowed up my next few days. I cajoled Bella into running with me once more, and she came to Urban Studies class again. But for several days in a row, I didn’t see much of her.
My team made a road trip, where we beat Harvard and lost to Dartmouth. Bickley chattered in my ear all the way home from New Hampshire, when really all I wanted to do was sleep.
Bickley could afford to squander his time on gossip. But the second I stepped off that bus, I had to hustle to make a Sunday night dining hall shift.
Fighting exhaustion, I cut up chickens for three hours straight, and then chopped vegetables for tomorrow’s omelets.
Dinner service was almost over when I saw Bella slip into the dining hall. Good news. She got herself a plate and carried it over to sit by Graham and Rikker. I gave her a wave when I went out to pull trays off the salad bar.
“Hey, Graham?” I heard her ask. An edge in her voice made me linger nearby. “Do you have anything going on next Saturday night? I have a thing in New York that I have to go to, and I need a date. It’s an open bar.”
“What about my needs?” Rikker joked, his arms spread wide. “I like free drinks. And you’re stealing my date.”
Graham cleared his throat. “Um, guys? That’s the night of Skate with Harkness Hockey. I have to cover it, because a couple of Bruins players are supposed to show up, too.”
“Oh,” she said slowly. “The charity thing?”
“Yeah.”
“Fuck,” Bella said. “The game schedule made that look like a night off.”
Rikker frowned. “Wait. I could come down with the flu, or something,” he suggested. “I don’t see why they need two dozen players out there.” He gave a faux cough into his hand. “I think I feel it coming on.”
Bella shook her head. “Yeah, and nobody would notice if the most famous Harkness teammate wasn’t there.”
Rikker grabbed her hand and stuck it on his forehead. “That’s a fever, right? Don’t I feel hot to you?”
She gave him a sad smile. “Don’t worry about it, Rik. It’s not a big deal.”
“I would totally blow it off, Bells.”
Bella stood. “Really, I’m good. Thanks anyway, guys.” She trotted over to the conveyor belt to bus her tray.
I caught up to her on the rebound. “Hey, Bella?”
She looked up, startled. “Yeah?”
“I can go to your thing in New York.”
Bella hesitated, which bummed me out a little bit. Maybe I wasn’t Upper East Side enough to be her date. “Are you sure?” she asked after a long pause.
“Well, I don’t have a game until Sunday night. So my mother decided that I should make an appearance at my little cousin’s christening on Sunday morning. I was supposed to take the train down anyway.”
“Huh.” She raised her eyes to mine. “The reason I asked Graham to go was because he already knows the story of my crazy family.”