23. Ivy Day #2
Honey notes Simone’s trembling lip and the discomfort in her eyes. “But I thought… I mean, I heard the two of you were dating? Or had gone on a date?”
“One date,” Simone says. “I figured I’d humor him, get him off my back.” She pours the rest of her drink down her throat; Honey spins her finger in the air and mouths Another round to Jefferson.
“So tell me what’s going on, exactly,” Honey says. She’s been the college counselor for eight years, though she was trained as a good old-fashioned guidance counselor, which is the kind of work she wishes she did more of.
Simone has to be so careful. It’s risky talking to Honey about Rhode without mentioning East. “He’s always been inappropriate,” Simone says.
“During First Dance he asked if I had a boyfriend. I said no, though now I wish I’d invented one.
He then told me in excruciating detail about his breakup from some chick back in New York. ”
Honey rolls her eyes; she can just picture it.
“Then, at one of the football games, he plunked himself down next to me and spiked my hot cider with whiskey. I didn’t notice until I’d taken a sip.”
“At a Tiffin football game?” Honey says. “On school grounds?” She knows she sounds aghast, though she isn’t. Cord occasionally brings a S’well bottle filled with wine to the games. But spiking Simone’s drink without her permission is one step away from drugging her!
“He’s always texting me, watching my every move, asking where I’ve been. During Family Weekend, I was a few minutes late to the steak dinner because I took the chapel tour with Mr. James, and Rhode acted like he wanted to give me a missed commitment.”
“Come on,” Honey says.
“Back in November, I agreed to a date. I vowed to be open-minded. Rhode rented a fancy car, which was thoughtful, but instead of going to the Wooden Duck like we’d agreed…”
At the mention of the Wooden Duck, Honey drinks.
Breaking her date with Cordelia had not gone well.
Honey’s excuse was that she needed to spend the evening in the dorms. Cord has no idea that Honey is out tonight and hanging with Simone, though Honey doesn’t care if she finds out.
They aren’t married, they aren’t even openly dating.
Honey prefers to think of them in the “friends-with-benefits” space.
They’ve never had a conversation about being exclusive…
but that’s primarily because there was no one else in the Tiffin bubble to consider.
“… he drove me to Vermont!” Simone says. “He borrowed the Wullys’ vacation cottage and had Chef Haz drop off a gourmet dinner. Caviar and champagne! Beef Wellington.”
“Wow,” Honey says.
“I was so uncomfortable,” Simone says. “We were all by ourselves, across state lines, in the middle of the woods.”
“Did he try anything?” Honey asks. She finds herself growing angry—and a little jealous—at the thought.
“He kissed me,” Simone says. “It made me sick. Literally: I vomited everything up. And that ended the date.”
Their drinks are gone. Honey orders one more round, which will have to be their last. They can’t return to Classic South completely wrecked.
“So he got the hint?” Honey asks.
“I thought so,” Simone says. “During the snow day, we went cross-country skiing together, which was fun. He kept things light. But then he wanted to sit together at dinner and when I told him I was tired and taking food back to my room, he got pissy with me.”
“That’s crazy!” Honey says. “It’s as though he thinks you owed him something.”
“But the reason I wanted to talk to you,” Simone says, “is because of what happened last weekend.” She takes a swallow of her new drink, which is— eeeee!
—even more potent than the first two. “I came back to Tiffin early from break. I was out for a walk, fully believing I was the only person on campus. It was getting dark and all of a sudden I heard footsteps and heavy breathing and I saw someone chasing after me. It was Rhode.”
“No!” Honey says. “What was he doing there?”
“Stalking me!” Simone says. “He asked where I’d been, what I was doing, if I wanted to go out with him.
He followed me all the way back to Classic South under the guise of ‘walking me back.’” Simone’s eyes brim with tears.
“I wasn’t sure what he was capable of. I did not feel safe with him. He’s such a… predator.”
“That’s exactly the word I was about to use,” Honey says.
“Later that night, he texted me all of these ugly, accusatory things.”
“I hope you saved the texts,” Honey says.
“I didn’t,” Simone says. “I deleted them immediately. I couldn’t have his voice lurking on my phone.”
In reality, Simone deleted them because of how they implicated her.
She was lucky she’d left East’s room when she did.
They had split a bottle of wine—Simone had four glasses to East’s two, or possibly five to his one—but when it became apparent East wasn’t going to even kiss her, Simone stormed out, hoping he might change his mind.
But he hadn’t—and as soon as Simone got down to the first floor, she bumped into Rhode.
It was, absolutely, the worst-case scenario: Nothing had happened between her and East, but she had brought alcohol into his room and drank it with him.
“Do you want to talk to someone about this?” Honey asks.
“I’m talking to you,” Simone says.
Honey covers Simone’s hand with her own. “It’s safe with me.”
She motions to Jefferson for the check… but instead he shows up with two shots of tequila. “From the gentleman at the end of the bar,” he says. “He’s picked up your tab as well.”
Honey peers down to the end of the bar, afraid she’ll see Rhode Rivera himself, or Mr. James, or Jesse Eastman.
But the “gentleman” in question is a stocky, bearded guy wearing a flannel over a stained gray T-shirt.
Some Alibi regular who wants a couple of new friends.
Honey holds her shot glass up to him and says, “Thank you! My kid got into Princeton today!” Then she and Simone throw back the shots and Honey says, “Let’s get out of here before he comes over to ask what she got on the SAT. ”
Maybe it’s the safety of the dark back seat of the Uber or maybe it’s the mix of bourbon and tequila, but Honey starts blabbing on the way home.
She compares the guy at the end of the bar to Rhode: Men can’t just do something nice, it’s always transactional.
They expect a return and that return is access to women’s bodies.
“I say ‘men,’ but it’s not just men, it’s people.
” Then, in a roundabout way, she tells Simone about Cordelia.
This person I was in a relationship with feels differently for me than I do for them, which has put me in an awkward spot.
I’m not sure how to tell this person to back off without hurting their feelings.
Simone grabs Honey’s forearm. “So you do understand. You understand exactly.” Simone holds Honey’s gaze and Honey senses Simone’s face moving closer.
Of course this is where the night was headed from the very beginning, it’s Honey’s dream, if she’s being honest. Honey closes her eyes as she brings her lips to meet Simone’s.
There’s a gasp, then a firm hand planted on Honey’s chest as Simone pushes her away.
“No,” Simone says. Then, a bit softer, “I’m sorry, was I giving that kind of energy? Because I’m not… I don’t…”
Oh god, Honey thinks. What have I done?
Honey pulls her lipstick out of her clutch. “No need to be sorry,” she says. “Simple misunderstanding, is all.”
Simone rests her forehead against the cool glass of the car window. When she closes her eyes, her head spins.