Page 23 of Rent: Paid in Full

“Well, I’m here either way, you know that, don’t you?” An errant Frisbee comes flying through the air, narrowly missing her head. “For fuck’s sake, Trip! Play over there. How many times do I have to tell you?”

That’s nothing new either. I’ve seen and heard that before too. More times than I can count.

I lie back and watch the clouds sail past through a web of gnarled tree branches. It feels still. There’s hardly any air moving, but the clouds move surprisingly quickly, morphing and changing shape as they float across the expanse of pale blue. I lie there for so long that Sienna and the rest of the girls leave to go to a class. Trip and Dean sit, and it isn’t long before I have an open bag of Cheetos stuffed in my face.

“Want some?”

“No thanks.” I smile and briefly fantasize about slapping the bag out of his hands so hard that pigeons will find errant Cheetos in the grass until well after spring break.

I’m not sure I realize that what I’m doing under this tree is waiting, until the person I’m waiting for turns up. A lean figure. Dark hair and a slightly stooped posture. Shoulders slightly raised as if he’s trying to make himself seem smaller. He’s wearing his dark jeans today. The ones with a tiny hole on the left knee. It’s not anI was purposefully ripped to look coolkind of hole. It’s the kind of hole that happens when denim has been worn and washed over and over. Worn in. Worn through.

It bothers him, the hole. I can tell because I’ve seen him picking at it while he works and then suddenly stopping himself when he realizes he’s making it worse.

I get to my feet and dust the blades of dry grass off my ass. Trip and Dean make a move to join me, but I give them a firm look that saysstay, so they do.

I keep my distance, but I don’t lose sight of him. He’s hard to miss. Shaggy hair, a burnt-out red sweater, and long loping strides. I follow him through the quad and past the library. For a moment, I think he means to go in, but he swings left and heads through the arch. My heart sinks.

Little shit.

He’s on his way to the Student Services building again.

11

Ryan

Bev closes her eyeswhen she sees me and whispers something that sounds a lot like, “Give me strength” under her breath.

I wasn’t planning on stopping by today on account of the fact that I’ve completely run out of ways to complain about Miller that don’t involve me disclosing that he’s repeatedly offered me money for sexual services. So I’m here empty-handed. Totally cake-less. A decision I regret as soon as I see Bev’s face. Big brown eyes, short curly dark hair, and a thin line where her mouth should be. She takes her readers off and drops them onto her desk. She massages her temples for a few seconds, then looks up and says, “Come on back.”

I can hardly believe my luck. I’ve never been invited back before. Best-case scenario in the past has always been being offered half the cupcake I’ve brought for her. She opens the door that readsStaff Onlyand waves me in, offering me a seat next to her desk.

“Can I ask you something, Ryan?” She staples a few pages together and drops them into her outbox, not waiting for an answer. “Are you happy here?”

“No.”

I don’t even need to think about it. I’m definitely not. In some ways, it’s like a continuation of high school, which I hated more than life itself, and in other ways, it’s like being faced with the goddamn apple tree in the Garden of Eden. There’s temptation and possibility everywhere. Low-hanging and ripe. Close. So close, I sometimes feel like I could reach out and take it, but my old friend the fist is quick to remind me that it wouldn’t be wise.

She purses her lips and nods several times. “Well then, let me ask you another question. What do you do for fun?”

I admit I have to think for a while, but I manage, “I like to lie on my bed and look at the ceiling.” Technically, I like to lie on my bed, look at the ceiling, and relive arguments and altercations long past, fantasizing about delivering the perfect, cutting retort instead of being struck mute by social anxiety, but whatever. Close enough, I think.

Her expression changes from judgment to something that looks a lot like pity. “What’s stopping you from having fun?”

“Um, it’s called anxiety, Bev.”

“Yeah, I know, and I get that. You know I do, but you’re not doing it right. You’re letting your anxiety take over your life, and you’re only taking on the bad parts. You’re not letting the good parts in.”Good parts? When has anxiety ever had good parts?

“That shit makes you funny as hell, Ryan. It makes youinteresting. It makes you real, and you’re supposed to let people see that about you. You’re not supposed to hold it all inside you. No wonder you’re like this.” She waves her hand around in the air near my face. “You’re supposed to let loose once in a while.”

I nod and do things with my eyebrows to suggest that I not only understand what she’s saying, but I agree wholeheartedly. Neither is true.

“How do you recommend I do that?”

“I don’t know. It’s different for everyone. For me, I like to let my mind wander and then just jump in and do the first thing I think of. Something fun and spontaneous. Remember that cruise I told you about, the one Mal and I took last year? Well, I’d been feeling stressed and generally blah for a while, and when I gave myself a quiet moment, going on a cruise was the first thing that popped into my head. Did my credit card love it? No. No, sir, it did not. Was it worth it? Totally. It was the most fun I’ve had in years. I met amazing people. I danced like I haven’t danced since my twenties. I gained ten pounds in seven days, and you know what my only regret is? That I didn’t gain more.”

I’m about to tell her that a cruise is light years out of my budget when she adds, “It doesn’t have to be something big or serious. It can be something silly. You’re at the age where you should be doing something stupid at least every other week. It’s practically a coursework requirement.” She shakes her head despondently. “Can’t believe I have to tell you this.”

I suddenly feel overly aware of my mouth. I can feel where my top and bottom lip touch, and it feels strange. My lips are tingling, twitching at the corners.