Chapter 7
CHAPTER SEVEN
Bennett
A haunted look lingers on Rhodes’ face as we walk toward the primary building again. There are people milling about, and while they’re all adults, it’s not hard to see that they naturally form cliques. I can almost feel what it was like to be a kid here.
I examine the faces we pass as we walk around the side of the school. It’s almost dark out now, but the paths are well lit by old-fashioned streetlights. They give the entire place an old feeling. Like we’ve been transported back in time.
The laughter of classmates. Whispers. Chatter that hushes as we get closer and picks up again as we pass.
Sometimes, if I’m looking at something specific, I swear I catch glimpses of ghosts lingering. Walking by, carrying on like they had ten years ago. Twenty. Thirty.
This place hasn’t changed from one generation to the next. I wouldn’t be surprised if spirits from all time periods wandered the grounds as they had in life. What was this place before it was a school? What lives had it seen then?
We stop abruptly, and it feels like a cold wall hits us. More ghosts? Telling us not to move any closer?
I look at Rhodes, and his haunted look takes on a new life. I can see the memories dance in his eyes right before they’re shut down, and his expression turns cold. So cold that I shiver and turn my attention to what he’s seeing.
A group of people. Four men and four women.
Two men are in suits, one in what I imagine someone wears to a golf course, and one looks like he’s wearing a school uniform.
Does he work here? The women are dressed to the nines with perfect makeup, immaculate nails, glittering jewelry, and fashion-forward dresses over their high heels.
Interestingly, I feel like they belong in the seventies.
Rhodes’ hand tightens on mine. I glance down at our linked hands and find his other one is buried deeply in the scruff of one of his dogs. Now that I’m looking, I can see the hackles on all seven dogs are raised.
As soon as we begin walking again, all their attention turns to us. Their eyes, all eight sets, drop to the dogs, and the women take several steps backward. Except one, whose presumed husband has her in front of him, where he keeps her as a barrier between him and the dogs.
What a prize he must be.
We don’t stop on our way by. We don’t adjust our trajectory, which forces the group to back away or be in front of the dogs, who are already glaring at them as if they’ve said something offensive.
“Van Doren?” one of the men says.
Rhodes doesn’t answer. He doesn’t give any impression that he’s heard the other man. I turn to say something, but Rhodes’ hand releases mine and lands on my lower back, urging me forward. Okay, I’m not going to speak to them either. Clearly.
Once we’ve passed, I whisper, “Who are they?”
“There’s no room in this world for bullies,” he answers.
I glance back, giving them my best dirty glare. I’m not sure I pull it off because it takes so much energy to frown. I’m much better at smiling.
Giving them my back again, I tuck myself further into Rhodes’ side. I earn myself a chuckle as his arm wraps around me. It’s almost as if we’re a real couple. The thought makes me smile widely.
A bell dongs. It sounds shockingly like a church bell, but deeper.
Rhodes huffs. “Still using the stupid bell on us. Herding us like cattle.”
“What does it mean?”
“As kids, it signals the end of class or curfew. For us, it means dinner.”
“Even that has a spooky vibe,” I say, glancing up at the roof. I can’t see where the bell is, but I’m sure there must be a bell tower.
“All old buildings have ghosts in their walls and skeletons in their closet,” he says, unhelpfully. That doesn’t ease my mind at all.
I’m not easily spooked, and I wouldn’t say I necessarily believe in ghosts.
But there are some places you visit where you can’t help feeling like you’re being watched.
You can feel the long, long history of the place.
The walls themselves record everything and store it like a computer with infinite memory.
The dining room looks far more like a dining room than it does a cafeteria. There are groupings of tables, smaller and larger options. White linens. Silver utensils and china on the tables. The ceiling has crystal chandeliers.
Rhodes pulls out a chair for me, and it has lush fabric and ornate wood carvings. I sit as he slides the chair in. My smile, though it rarely fades anyway, is huge at his gentlemanly manners. He takes a seat beside me, and I’m probably looking at him like a clown with a too-wide smile.
Rhodes chuckles. He takes my cloth napkin from where it’s folded on my plate and drapes it on my lap before doing the same to his.
The dogs settle around us. I think Rhodes has purposefully chosen a table close to the wall and seated us with the wall at our backs so the dogs can position themselves between us and the wall.
I expect that we’ll remain alone, so I’m surprised when three people approach—a woman and two men. She smiles, though I don’t miss the way any of them are eyeing the dogs.
“Rhodes?” she asks as she gets close. Rhodes looks up and examines her face.
It takes him a minute before he pushes his chair back and stands to greet her. “Bethany.”
Her smile widens. “Yes. How lovely to see you. Do you mind if we join you?”
Rhodes gestures to the table and retakes his seat.
“You’re quite the topic tonight,” one of the men with her says as he holds her chair for her.
“Let me guess—no one has seen a pack of wolves before,” Rhodes muses.
I’m pleased when they all find this funny.
“Pardon my manners. This is my husband, Heathcliff, and our boyfriend, Bobby. This is Rhodes, a classmate of mine,” Bethany says.
“Hello,” Rhodes replies. “This is my partner, Bennett. And my pack. Would you like to meet them?”
“Are they friendly?” Bobby asks.
“When I tell them to be, yes.”
Bobby eyes them warily, but Bethany nudges him with a pretty smile. “We’d love to. Bobby has always been wary of dogs. Childhood trauma.”
“Ah.” Rhodes turns to the puppies. “Go say hi.”
As a unit, all seven dogs get to their feet. Tails wag, ears relax, tongues loll out as they round the table to greet the three of them. I think it’s this greeting specifically that has everyone else in the room not only watching but also gives them the courage to approach.
Not everyone gets the same greeting. I can tell by the way Rhodes has the dogs interact with people how he feels about them. I’d say about half of the people who approach get the same greeting I received. Some get a much colder one where the pups appear to be business polite.
The group of eight that we’d walked by outside stops at the table, and the dogs are not instructed to say hello. When one of them asks about the dogs, Rhodes conveys that they’re not friendly. As if to prove his point, Velvet growls low in his throat.
I notice a distinct sweep of frost across the table when those eight are here. The women don’t appear to have attended the school. While the men introduce their wives, Rhodes doesn’t introduce me, nor does he greet their wives.
We’d been joined by three other couples before the group of eight stopped over. Perhaps the rest of the table takes a cue from him. There isn’t a friendly vibe anywhere, though I keep my smile on my face. It’s weird not to smile.
It takes them far longer to read the room than it should. They linger for several minutes, making poor attempts at conversation. Finally, they take the hint and leave.
The table watches them go.
“Interesting how they haven’t changed at all,” Sara says. I’ve gathered from their introduction that she and her wife, Dianna, both attended school here. They were high school sweethearts, though it sounds as if their romance was a well-kept secret until after they graduated.
I get the distinct impression that gay was not okay back then.
What a vile place. Though, to be fair, that was the ambience of my high school as well.
I seemed to have been liked well enough, even though I was openly gay, but I think that had more to do with my personality and the fact that I was childhood friends with my neighbors, who turned out to be big, popular football players.
Other queer kids in school didn’t get the same treatment, even when I tried to extend it to them.
I was protected by my friends. They didn’t get the same courtesy, no matter how hard I tried to share it.
“I’m not surprised,” Rosemary says. “People like them don’t change. Their glory days were within these walls, and they think they hold the same pomp they used to.”
The other couples at the table are Rosemary and Robert, and Thornton and Janet. Rosemary and Thornton are alumni.
“The difference is that we’re not frightened kids anymore,” Thornton says. “It takes a lot more than walking around in a tight group to intimidate us.”
I glance at the group that left us. They have a table all their own. It seems most everyone else doesn’t care about being around them either.
“Have you heard anything about them since high school?” Bethany asks. “Admittedly, I don’t pay much attention to headlines, so they could have discovered the cure for cancer, and I probably would have missed it.”
“Such a down-to-earth politician,” Heathcliff teases.
Bethany snorts. “Trust me. There are far bigger fish to fry right now than watching what high school losers are doing in their lives.”
Oh! A politician. How fun.
“Fortunately for you, my husband could probably tell you exactly what traits make up everyone’s genetics in this room,” Janet muses, giving Thornton an amused smile.
Thornton rolls his eyes. “As a genetic biologist, that’s my job.
However, yes, I read the newsletters that the school sends to alumni.
You’ll be pleased to know that none of them have made any worthwhile contributions to society.
In fact, Elin’s net worth has dropped drastically in the past three years. ”
“Why?” Bethany asks, grinning widely.
“I read the newsletters,” Thornton says. “I don’t follow up beyond what’s reported there.”
“They reported that his net worth has dropped?” Sara asks.
“No. That showed up in my ShareIt feed,” Thornton says, chuckling. “I clicked on the article and suddenly, Elin is all over my feed for days. I’ve stopped clicking on articles.”
Rhodes snorts.
The servers are wary of the puppies, of course. Right until Rhodes has them introduce themselves, and then they’re vying for who gets to give them their plates.
Conversation turns to lighter things—family, hobbies, vacations. I’m glad to see Rhodes relax. He even laughs from time to time. He’s not quick to participate in their talk, but he doesn’t avoid it either.
By the time we finish dinner, take the dogs for a walk, and let the pups run around, wrestle, and use the trees—for which Bethany and her partners join us—I think Rhodes isn’t quite as glum about being here.
He seems to enjoy catching up with her. Bobby remains a little skeptical about the baby dogs, but he isn’t quite so jumpy and stiff by the time we go inside.
Bethany promises we’ll catch up for breakfast. Rhodes seems relieved that he’s made a friend. I’m happy that he’s no longer as grumpy about facing all these people. Life is too short to be so unhappy.
However, life can wait. We’re alone, and I’m ready for sexy time.