How to Align the Stars

Chapter Seventeen

Bea

Bea was already in a bad mood when she got to the campus cafe. The students in her Monday morning class had been scattered and disengaged; understandable the Monday after spring break, but at this point in the semester they needed to pay attention in order to be ready for the final. Heron had texted she wouldn’t be on campus today, which was worrisome—Bea knew the return to campus would be difficult, but she had to come back sometime. Heron was nervous about bumping into Charlie of course; Bea understood the feeling all too well.

The barista, a sophomore who’d been in Bea’s class the previous semester, over-poured the foam on her latte, but in a hurry to get out of the student union, she put the lid on anyway, causing a tiny volcano of steamed milk to erupt from the hole in the lid. She was turning back to get a napkin when she heard “Hello,” in Ben’s voice. Fantastic. But there was no reason she couldn’t be cool. Breezy. No-nonsense.

“Yes?” It came out waspish.

“I just thought I should say hi.”

“Why?”

“Pardon me?”

“Why?” She said it slowly, as if he had misunderstood the simple word. She knew she was being horrid; it would be easier to politely say hello and then beat a hasty retreat. But the venom came out before she could stop it. Maybe it was for the best anyway, the sooner they were back to thinly veiled hostility, the sooner she would feel normal again.

“Uh, to be civil adults? And because I wondered how you were doing.”

“Well,” she moved away from the coffee bar, aware they had already attracted curious glances from a few students. “First of all, we don’t need to go out of our way to exchange pleasantries. We managed to avoid each other before, we can certainly do it again. In fact, it’ll be easier this time since we know each other’s habits thoroughly. Secondly, I am fine. You ought to know me well enough to know there’s no reason I wouldn’t be. Did you expect me to be pining away for you?”

“No.” His voice was tight. “I definitely didn’t expect that.”

“Good. Great. Take care.” She turned and moved toward the door with as much dignity as someone with steamed milk dripping down their forearm could muster. She loosened her grip on the paper cup.

“Bea.”

“What?” This time she knew her voice held a note of anguish. Ready tears sprang up, hot behind her eyes. She hated herself for it. She hated Ben more. She’d been fine before him. Now, missing him hurt, and the pain pissed her off because it was so unnecessary; they were right back where they’d started. If Ben had only stayed in his own damn lane as an annoying sometime-nemesis and hadn’t turned out to be well, rather wonderful, really, she wouldn’t be feeling all of this right now.

She calmed her tone and said, “What, Ben. What else could you possibly want? Can’t you let it be? Please.” She looked hard at his face for the first time in this encounter. Bea wanted to see the blithe smugness she’d avidly loathed in the past. Instead, he looked drawn, as if someone had opened a tap and drained out a little of his vibrance. His eyes drooped at the corners. She knew this hurt for him, too, but she had too much on her emotional plate to worry about whether she was being unfair to him.

He swallowed. “Okay. Yes. Easier for me, too. Take care, Bea.”

“I intend to.” She started to walk away, then added, “you too,” as an afterthought.

Bea made it to her office before she cried, grateful for a few minutes to compose herself before her next class. Afterward, her office hours were full of kids with questions about their midterm grades and preparing for finals. She didn’t think about Ben again until she was walking home in the late afternoon. What the fuck was wrong with her? This breakup was her idea, she should be fine, but the first time she saw Ben again she fell apart? She needed to pull her shit together and dust herself off. This was the worst it would ever hurt, because it was over. Ben couldn’t hurt her now any more than she’d already hurt both of them. And every day the pain would recede, until she was back to normal.

Heron

The code of conduct hearing was held in the administrative building. Heron had only been here once before, to file an appeal for admission to a class that was technically at capacity. She climbed the steep stone steps, glad she was wearing the jet-black suit she’d bought for job and grad school interviews. It felt like armor. She checked in with the receptionist and was led to a conference room. Despite rushing from her nine o’clock class, she was the last to arrive.

The conference room was windowless and gray, containing only a long laminate table. There was nothing on the walls except for a clock and a whiteboard bearing the smudged remains of notes from a prior meeting. The review board sat on one side of the table and consisted of a sophomore Heron vaguely recognized, Dean Lucas, and Professor Fielding, who Heron had taken a political science class from junior year at Charlie’s recommendation. The professors nodded cordially as she made eye contact, the sophomore didn’t look up from her paper. Was this all? She’d read about the reviews having representation from administration, faculty, and the student body, but had expected…well, more people. Or people who were more qualified.

Bea, who was already seated at one end of the table, gave her a buck-up smile. Next to her, Maggie and Bryant had scooted their chairs close together, signaling they were a unit. Bryant looked straight ahead with a stony expression, but Maggie was glaring openly at Charlie and Jason, who were seated at the other end with Jason’s mother. Heron recognized her; as the wife of the college president, she attended events occasionally, but she’d never seen her with her son before. They leaned slightly away from each other with barely disguised hostility.

Ben sat in the middle, leaving a seat empty between himself and Charlie. Heron cringed inwardly for Bea, but Ben gave her a kind smile as she sat down.

Dean Lucas began the hearing by asking Heron to state her complaint.

She explained about the videos, where they were taken and when. Maggie and Bryant confirmed they were the subjects of the second video and hadn’t known they were being recorded.

“It wasn’t only the violation of having the videos taken,” Heron said, using all of her effort to control the waver in her voice, “but to have them shown in such a surprising, public way made it so much worse. At first, I was upset because of the breakup of course. I think anyone would have been. But that pales in comparison to the violation of learning that this video of me existed in the first place, and was shown at a time clearly chosen to be as hurtful as possible.”

Charlie spoke for his side, explaining about how Jason had come to him with the first video, then suggested watching Heron’s apartment to see if she was really spending the night at her cousin’s. “Then,” he said, “when…activity…began in the room, Jason got his camera and said we should ‘collect further evidence.’”

Bryant’s fist clenched, and Heron saw Maggie lay her hand over his and squeeze. He relaxed. As glad as she was her friends were together, Heron missed being part of a team like that.

Charlie continued, “To be honest, I don’t remember much about the rest of the night or the next day, except for being very hurt and very angry. I will admit that if I had it to do over again, I would have spoken to Heron privately.” He glanced in Heron’s direction and for a moment he was her old caring Charlie, then his face closed off again as he finished his statement. “But what’s done is done and I think overall the incident has stopped me from making a bigger mistake.”

The air left Heron’s lungs and she pressed her soles against the floor to stop her legs from trembling. Had Charlie just referred to their engagement as a mistake? She would not cry here. She wouldn’t. She bit the inside of her cheek to keep her face still.

Jason spoke next, confirming Charlie’s story. “I had the footage in the amphitheater leftover from a short film project,” he said, and it took great effort for Heron to suppress an indignant remark. What kind of short film might that have been? But at least he’d admitted to taking it. “The second video was taken merely for evidentiary purposes. It may not have been polite to play them publicly, but we had reason to believe it was necessary, as Ms. Hunter is clearly a very deceptive person.”

Maggie muttered “bullshit” under her breath. Heron used her shoe to tap Maggie’s ankle under the table. Being combative wouldn’t help.

“First,” said Dean Lucas, “I would like to ask if anyone disputes the content of the videos. If not, I think we can forgo reviewing this sensitive evidence at this proceeding. The committee has reviewed them privately.”

Heron’s skin flushed with embarrassment at the idea of anyone else seeing the videos, but at least they wouldn’t all be watching them here, together.

“No dispute,” Charlie said.

“Me neither,” said Heron.

Jason said, “I do not believe Miss McIntyre is in the second video. I still say it is Heron and her friend is covering for her. Bryant”—he enunciated the given name crisply and a bit of spittle flew out of his mouth—“has been living in the apartment rented by Miss Hunter and Miss McIntyre since before spring break and I believe this is the reason he has agreed to lie for her.”

Everyone on Heron’s side of the table knew this was a blatant lie, but they’d agreed not to bring up Jason’s scheming at this hearing because they thought it would sound too implausible. Bryant’s response was icy and restrained, “I found myself in need of a new living situation, and Ms. Hunter was kind enough to let me take over her share of the rent.”

“That’s right,” said Heron. “After this incident, I found it difficult to live in such close proximity to Mr. Brewster and Mr. Shultz, so I sublet my room to Mr. Hardy and have been staying elsewhere.”

The committee scribbled notes on their legal pads. So far, neither Professor Fielding nor the student had said anything. This was Dean Lucas’s show, she realized. The others were there only to provide the illusion of balance.

“And the date the first video was taken is?”

Heron answered. She knew the exact date because the date of the homecoming dance was printed in her yearbook. She’d looked it up during her preparations.

“And the apartment in which the second video was filmed is not campus property?”

“Correct,” said Heron. “All the tenants are Messiman students, but it’s a privately owned building.”

With these questions, the stone that had been sitting in Heron’s stomach all morning grew heavier. She could see the lines he was trying to draw, and the picture didn’t look good for her.

“I see,” said the dean. “We will adjourn to deliberate. Please remain in the vicinity and we will call you back in when we have our decision.”

That was it? The whole thing had taken less than fifteen minutes.

They filed out of the room. Bea, Heron, Maggie, and Bryant clustered on one side of the lawn in front of the building, Jason, Dr. Shultz, and Charlie on the other. Ben drifted off on his own to lean on the railing running down the middle of the steps.

Bea gave him one of her trademark disdainful looks. “Literally on the fence, I see.”

“Don’t be too hard on him, Professor Hayes,” said Bryant. “He’s supposed to be here as our advisor. I don’t think he wants to support Charlie or Jason.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” Bea said. It was true, Ben had been silent through the proceedings although Heron wanted to believe he was on her side, for Bea’s sake as well as her own.

When they were called back twenty minutes later, no one on the committee would look at Heron, but Professor Fielding smiled at Charlie and so she knew exactly what was going to happen.

“Ms. Hunter,” Dean Lucas began, “while we can’t deny what happened to you, as well as to Mr. Hardy and Ms. McIntyre, is not polite conduct, we have found no violation of the student code. The first video was taken on Messiman property, but neither you nor Mr. Shultz had matriculated at the time it was filmed. We can’t hold either of you responsible for abiding by a code you hadn’t signed yet. While the camera for the second video was on Messiman-associated property, although Sigma Omicron Delta owns the house”—he cleared his throat—“the featured act was on private property in front of an uncovered window, in clear public view. The display of the videos was in very poor taste. However, so were the acts depicted therein. Furthermore, while they were shown at an event attended by many people associated with the college, it was nevertheless a private event on private property. This board finds no violation of the code of student conduct.” The dean closed his folder with a slap as definitive as the rap of a gavel, and the three board members stood as if they’d choreographed the motion, leaving the room before anyone had an opportunity to comment.

Heron felt like she’d been punched in the stomach. She was prepared for this but had still held out hope of getting some sort of vindication. Bea put her arm around her.

Jason’s mother set her mouth into a grim line, muttered, “Okay,” in a businesslike tone, and was the first to leave the room. Charlie left next, eyes on the floor. Jason had the gall to smile at them as he left. Ben cast a regretful glance toward Bea before filing out behind them.

“I’m so sorry, Heron,” said Maggie, as she and Bryant stood up from the table.

“Me too,” Bryant added. “I’m sorry for my role in this, especially, Heron.”

“It’s not your fault,” Heron told him.

“This is bullshit,” Bea spat. “And it’s not over, Birdie, I’ll find out what other recourses are available to us.”

“Bea, don’t. It’s pretty clear they wanted to use very black and white criteria, and the technicalities weren’t on our side.” She didn’t regret filing the complaint, it seemed important that she had stood up for herself even if the decision didn’t go her way. “I don’t want you to jeopardize your tenure or make things awkward with your coworkers.”

Bea reacted with a choked-sounding snort. “Oh, sweetie, making things awkward with coworkers is my specialty these days.”

Ouch. That was Heron’s fault. It was Bea’s nature to make light of things, but she wasn’t herself these days. If Heron’s ridiculous plan hadn’t thrown her and Ben together, she wouldn’t be hurting now. “Still. Let’s please leave it alone now, okay?”

“If that’s what you want.”

It wasn’t, actually. Heron was still angry. None of this sat right with her, she just didn’t know what else she could do about it.

Bea

Bea hadn’t wanted Heron to know her meeting with President Phillips to hear the results of her tenure review was this morning. The timing couldn’t have been more awkward, in fact. After the hearing concluded, she had fifteen minutes before she was scheduled to meet with the president. Not enough time to comfort Heron, too much to wait in the lobby. Maggie and Bryant shepherded Heron away, so at least she wasn’t going to be alone. Bea took a lap around the library to quell her nerves and clear some of the frustration lingering from Heron’s hearing. The whole thing was asinine.

Rounding the corner, she saw Ben on the library stairs with Charlie. Ben was gesticulating, and she couldn’t catch all of what he was saying but she made out the words “dumbass” and “consequences.” Charlie looked miserable. Good.

Three minutes before her meeting, Bea mounted the stairs of the administration building for the second time that day. The door to President Phillips’ inner office was closed when she arrived, so she perched on one of the chairs in the reception area and waited. A moment later, Dr. Shultz emerged, looking pained. The president walked her wife down the hall. Bea could hear them speaking in low tones but wasn’t able to make out any of the words. To be a fly on the wall in that household tonight…

President Phillips returned to her office suite. “Dr. Hayes, please come on back.” Her voice was full of its customary warmth, but there was a waver behind it.

Bea stood, followed her in, and settled into one of the chairs across from the stately oak desk, trying to look confident and casual.

“I’m sorry about the awkward timing of this meeting. I was aware, of course, you also had a family connection to these conduct proceedings, but I didn’t realize the hearing was scheduled for today. That was probably rather stressful, and I apologize.”

“It’s fine.” Even though the tenure decision was presumably made and her behavior in this meeting shouldn’t impact it, she didn’t want to appear as if she couldn’t handle pressure well or wasn’t able to separate personal matters from professional ones.

“I won’t keep you in suspense. Everything in your portfolio looks good: the entire science division speaks very highly of you, your student evaluation scores are some of our highest, and your letters of recommendation are glowing. It is my pleasure to approve the faculty personnel committee’s recommendation that you receive tenure.”

This was it for Bea. The moment she’d been working toward for fifteen years, everything she had ever wanted had been handed to her. And it wasn’t that she wasn’t thrilled. She was. But shouldn’t she be happier? When she’d pictured this moment, she imagined herself jumping for joy.

She smiled, but she had a feeling her reaction appeared more subdued than President Phillips was expecting, too. “Thank you so much.”

The other woman leaned across the desk. “On a personal note, Beatrice, I want to say it’s a pleasure to have you as part of the Messiman community. It’s wonderful to have someone on staff who has been through the student experience here and opted to make it her professional home. Your dedication is an asset to Messiman.”

Bea nodded and smiled mildly.

President Phillips continued, “In the interest of impartiality, I recused myself from anything related to these misconduct allegations against my stepson, but I know the proceedings were awkward and difficult. Part of fostering a close community here is fallout when there are conflicts, of course.”

“Of course.” Bea could feel her smile starting to slide off her face.

“If I can speak off the record, I think it would have been wise if my stepson had attended school in California as he wanted.”

Where was this going?

“Kelly felt she’d missed out on too much of his teen years. And here we are. But I want you to know, again, strictly off the record, I deeply regret what happened.”

Bea felt it best to maintain a cool, professional demeanor. She would have loved to get a glass of wine with Jane Phillips and hear more about what she honestly thought about all of this, but tenure or not, it was a professional line she shouldn’t cross. “I think Heron would probably just like to move on. But she doesn’t want something similar to happen to someone else. And she wasn’t the only student impacted by this.”

“No, of course not. And I am going to call for a review and revision of our conduct policies.”

“I’m happy to hear that,” Bea said. “Please let me know if I can be of any assistance. I have some ideas.”

“I’m sure you do.” President Phillips rose, a clear indication for Bea to do the same. “I’ll be in touch.”

Bea stood and took a step toward the door. In the interest of getting out of the president’s office before things became more awkward, she returned to the mental script of what she’d imagined she would say at the conclusion of this meeting. “Thank you so much for the wonderful news. I am truly looking forward to continuing my career at Messiman.”

President Phillips stood to walk her out. “It’s well deserved. Congratulations, Dr. Hayes.”

It was customary for the college administration to send an email announcement to a faculty member’s division upon tenure approval, and it must have gone out while Bea was walking to the science building, because all the way down the hall to her office, she fielded congratulatory exclamations from her science division colleagues.

Rick was perched on the edge of her desk when she got to her office, waiting to give her an angular hug. “I didn’t doubt it for a minute, kiddo,” he said. “Can I take you to a celebratory lunch? Or do you have plans with Ben? I don’t want to usurp the boyfriend.”

“Thanks. No, um, Ben and I broke up.” Perhaps it was Rick’s lofty height keeping him above the gossip that circulated among Messiman faculty. Despite Bea and Ben being seen together all over campus this winter, Rick had been surprised to learn they were dating when she’d finally mentioned something to him. Nonetheless, she’d hoped he would hear about the breakup through the grapevine so she could avoid being the one to tell him about it.

Rick looked so distressed, for a fleeting moment Bea felt guilty for telling him. “I’m sorry to hear that. Too good for him, huh?”

“Something like that.” She felt a wistful tug at the corners of her mouth.

“Well, kiddo”—Rick clapped a hand on her back—“get your coat. I’m taking you to brunch. How do Bloody Marys and burgers sound?”

“Great.” The grin spreading across her face was her first genuine smile of the day. She still had amazing people in her life who appreciated her no matter what.

Heron

Heron had been dividing her time between Bea’s guest room and her old room at the vineyard house. It was nice to get to see her dad a little more. Toni had come into the picture too late to truly act as a maternal figure, but Heron was glad to have her as part of the family. Staying with them gave her the opportunity to understand how happy Toni made her dad.

After the hearing, she retreated to her childhood bedroom, burrowing under her mother’s quilt. She wasn’t all that surprised by the conduct hearing results. Bea had told her, as far as she knew, this type of proceeding hadn’t ever resulted in a serious sanction, which made it obvious the policies were designed to get the college off the hook. And with Jason being the president’s stepson, she’d known the other administrators would be reluctant to take action against him.

She was profoundly disappointed, but just wanted to move on with her life. Close the Messiman chapter. There was a lot of good to outweigh the bad, and she knew she’d look back on positive memories from her time here. Four years of her life. Five, if she counted the college-prep program, whose high school-aged participants were treated like matriculated students, at least for one class a semester.

Something clicked in her mind, like a puzzle piece finally snapping into place after being turned every which way. She went to her closet, pulling aside the dress form, still stashed there from the awful day after the shower. Heron made a promise to herself to unpin and fold the wedding gown, putting it away nicely until she could decide what to do with it, but right now she had something more pressing to deal with.

Under the dress, she found a box of mementos from high school. She dug through corsages, student theater programs and papers, until she found the paperwork from the Messiman college prep program. She flipped through the folder and found her copy of the student code of conduct, signed at the beginning of her senior year of high school, during program orientation.

Using her best professional voice, she called the administrative offices and made an appointment with Dean Lucas for the following day. Any of the students who participated in the program and subsequently enrolled as full time Messiman students should have a copy of that original signed code in their student file. She had to bite her tongue to keep herself from telling her dad and Toni and hold herself back from texting Bea. She didn’t want to raise their hopes or rile them up.

“Ms. Hunter,” the dean said, as he showed her into one of the plush leather guest chairs, “I’m always happy to make time to meet with a student, but if you’re here to discuss the outcome of yesterday’s hearing, I’m afraid there isn’t much I can do for you.”

Heron began. “I was hoping you could help me understand a bit more clearly. If the videos had been shown at a student event, that would have been a violation of the code?”

“That’s right.”

“And if Maggie and Bryant had been on school-owned property when they were recorded, that would have been a violation of the code?”

“Correct.”

“And”—Heron folded her hands in her lap to keep them from shaking—“if Jason Shultz had been a student when he took the video of me and my date in the campus amphitheater, that would have been a violation of the code?”

“Indeed, Ms. Hunter, but the fact of the matter is, he was not. We can’t hold students accountable for abiding by the code of conduct before they’ve signed it. And, young lady, I must remind you that you yourself were engaged in a lewd act in a public place, which, while not technically a code violation, was certainly not an example of exercising good judgement.”

Heron’s cheeks flushed, but she wasn’t going to let him get to her. Her behavior was beside the point. If Bea were here, she would have something to say about it.

Well, she should have something to say about it, too. “That’s true, Dean Lucas. I was seventeen, on a date with my boyfriend. Surely you aren’t saying I deserved to be filmed, or to have that film shown at a very public event five years later?”

“Of course not.” The dean’s tone was icy. “I’m simply saying I can’t help you with whatever retribution you seem to be seeking.”

“Because the person who has admitted to taking the film had not signed the code at the time?”

“Correct.” It was clipped. He was clearly losing patience with her questions.

Heron pulled the paper she’d found yesterday out of her backpack and pushed it across the desk blotter. “This is my own code of conduct, Dean Lucas. I believe a copy will also be in my student file. You’ll notice that I signed it five years ago, when I was a senior in high school, one month before the video in question was taken. Students who participate in the college prep program are required to sign it.”

“That’s true. I suppose you were subject to the code at this time, but no one has made a complaint against you for violating it, so I—”

“Jason Shultz was also in the prep program that year.”

The dean sputtered, “Well, I… Oh. I see.”

“Why don’t you check his file? I’m happy to wait.” She sat back in her chair.

He picked up his desk phone and called to have the administrative assistant bring in the file. While they waited, Heron fixed her gaze on the diplomas on the wall behind him and focused on keeping her breathing steady. She hoped she looked calmer than she felt.

As soon as the folder was in the dean’s hands, he shuffled madly through the papers until he reached one at the very bottom. Heron leaned forward to peer over the desk, reading upside down, a code of conduct signed the same date as hers.

“Can I trust you’ll take appropriate action in light of this new information? I’m happy to discuss the matter directly with President Phillips if necessary.” Heron’s legs trembled, but she managed to keep her voice steady. “I understand you may feel it’s sensitive because of her personal relationship to Mr. Shultz.”

Dean Lucas had turned an alarming shade of white. He could certainly use some deep breathing techniques.

He said, “That won’t be necessary. I will contact the other review board members about reevaluating our decision regarding Mr. Shultz. I’m afraid the conclusion regarding your allegations against Mr. Brewster will remain unchanged, as he was not involved in the creation of this video.”

“I understand,” she said.

Heron’s mind was on Charlie as she descended the administrative building’s steps. She would have liked to see him face a consequence for hurting her so deeply and so deliberately. She would have to hope the shame of how far he’d gone to hurt her and how badly he’d been duped by Jason would catch up with him someday.

Her next class wasn’t for another hour, so she dropped into Bea’s office to tell her the news. When she got to her door, she had to push through a curtain of streamers to get into the office. A “Congratulations!” banner was draped across the top of the doorway, and a vase of stargazer lilies sat on Bea’s desk.

As Heron stepped into Bea’s office, her eyes fell on the flowers, then on Bea, who was peering at her computer screen. She looked up with a sheepish expression, like she’d been caught out at something.

“Hi, Bird.”

“Bea! Your tenure? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Yep.” Bea grinned. “My last meeting was yesterday but I didn’t want to stress you out before your hearing, and then it would have been shitty to dump all over your disappointment with my good news, so I figured I’d tell you later.”

“This is amazing. I’m so happy for you!”

“Thanks.”

“I have some news, too.” Heron told Bea the story of her meeting with the dean. “I still don’t have my hopes up too high,” she said, although the bubbly feeling in her stomach belied the statement, “but there should at least be some consequences, and now I feel like I’ve done all I can.”

“I’m so proud of you, Birdie. I can’t believe how you handled that meeting all by yourself.”

Heron bristled. She was a grown woman. She could handle things. In fact, she’d done a pretty great job at it. She’d been nervous, but not unmanageably so because she’d been well-prepared and confident she was right. She’d spent far too much time letting others handle her with kid gloves. But it wasn’t Bea’s fault, or her dad’s, that she’d allowed them to treat her this way, so she resisted the urge to snap at Bea that she wasn’t a baby.

“It was fine,” she said. “It was actually a little bit fun. You should have seen the look on his face.”

Bea chuckled. “I can only imagine.”