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Authors: Travis Thrasher

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TWENTY-SIX
          June 2005

I GOT OUT OF THE CAR
and stared at the building radiating the afternoon sun.

I’m going to see him whether he likes it or not
.

I didn’t care if Franklin had a title of Vice President on his business card or an assistant named Brenda who didn’t return my calls or even a schedule booked by the minute. This was the same guy I’d bailed out of trouble our junior year when someone took a WWF wrestling jump into his parents’ glass dining room table. I’d blamed myself, and it worked. Franklin gave me the money to give to his parents for the table. This was Franklin, and he was one of us and always would be. His passive-aggressive behavior was getting old.

I noted the sign on the front of the building. I wasn’t positive what Andersen Investment Corporation did except deal with finances. They probably took people’s money and tried to make money with it. Franklin had always had money, so he was used to spending it. I could see his resume.
Background: wealthy kid. Occupation: spoiled brat. Specialty: using ATM machines
.

The five-story building was glass with a black outline. I entered the main door; a registration desk blocked the hall leading beyond the main foyer.

A woman looking at the flat-screen monitor behind her
desk took a few seconds before glancing at me. She took a few more before asking, “May I help you?”

Yeah. How about trying to show a little less attitude?

“I’m here to see Franklin Gotthard.”

“Do you have an appointment?”

“Yes.”

I did. I made the appointment myself.

Franklin’s assistant begged to differ.

“What is your name again?” the receptionist asked me, holding the phone in her hand.

“Kurt. Kurt Cobain.”

“Okay,” the young woman said into the receiver. “It’s a Kurt Cobain.”

She waited, oblivious, stupid. Then she got a puzzled look over her face, the first bit of life I’d seen on her chubby cheeks so far.

I decided not to wait.

I dashed away from the desk and past the main open lobby into a narrow hallway. A set of elevators was to my right, but I ignored those, running to get away from the front, then slowing down to a casual pace. At the end of the hallway, another set of elevators greeted me. I got on and selected floor three.

The offices were fancy and corporate, but still basically a bunch of cubicles surrounded by offices on the edges of the building. I walked past a guy who looked like an escapee from a Dockers commercial.

“Excuse me. I was looking for Franklin Gotthard’s office. Am I in the right place?”

He looked at me and thought for a minute. “Franklin who? What department does he work in?”

“I’m not exactly sure.”

“Head down the hall and ask Lisa. She’s sitting at the main desk with a headphone attached to her head.”

Lisa, a redhead who saw me coming and continued talking on her headset, didn’t keep her eyes off me even as I approached her desk and waited.

Finally she spoke. “Are you lost?”

“I was looking for Franklin Gotthard.”

“He’s up on the fifth floor. We peons work down here.”

“Thanks. Any idea where his office is?”

“Get off the elevator and take a right. You’ll walk right into it. Can’t miss.”

“Nice headset,” I told her, thanking her and departing.

So far no armed men had intercepted me. I half wondered if the receptionist had even called anybody. I could be a terrorist carrying a bomb strapped across my chest. What sort of security did a place like this have?

On the fifth floor, I found my way to Franklin’s office. A woman in her twenties, who looked like a model for an adult magazine, saw me coming and stood up.

Here’s the security. She’s going to kick me with one of her stilettos
.

“Excuse me, sir, but Franklin is not here,” Brenda, Franklin’s “assistant,” said.

“Where is he?” I’d pictured someone very different.

“What’s this about?” she asked.

“It’s about not getting a return call.”

She looked me over and realized who I was. “You’re the guy from his college.”

“Where’s the meeting?”

“He’s down the hall in the boardroom—he won’t be getting out for another—sir?”

I was already charging down the hall. This would be fun.

The wooden door was closed, and I wondered how many suits and slicked-back haircuts awaited. I’d never spent a day in a corporate environment and wondered what would have happened to me if I had.

One word: suffocation.

I opened the door and heard a heavyset voice droning on for another second before it stopped.

Twenty faces, at least, turned to look at me. They were sitting, all with papers in front of them, at the largest table I’d ever seen in my life.

There was an awkward millisecond before I broke the silence.

“I need to speak to Franklin.”

Franklin stood up. He was wearing a blue suit with a yellow tie. What an aristocrat.

“Sorry about this. Please excuse me.”

He didn’t look embarrassed. Franklin didn’t get embarrassed. The look on his face was annoyance.

He opened the door to the hallway and then gently shut it behind us. He looked at me and shook his head, his face a mixture of shock and disgust. “What do you think you are doing?” he demanded.

“I’m returning that phone call.”

“You can’t just come and interrupt—”

At this point, a big bald-headed guy wearing all blue came around the corner. Sweat beads dotted his head. In his hand was some black object—at first I thought it might be a gun, then I realized it was a walkie-talkie. This guy didn’t
need
a gun. Looking at his arms, and fists the size of my head, I knew he wasn’t to be messed with.

“Everything okay here?”

“Yeah, everything’s fine, Joe. No need to worry. I know this guy.”

“He took off from the main lobby and—”

“It’s fine. Sorry about the confusion.”

Joe the bouncer looked at me, then wiped his head and turned around. The guy must have been sprinting through the offices. He would’ve been a funny sight to see, dashing by in his nice little blue jumper.

“Now is not a good time,” Franklin said.

His suit fit him perfectly. He was still lean and had a short, conservative haircut, just like it was in college except a little shorter. We were about the same height, and for a moment he glared at me with angry eyes.

“I’m not leaving without seeing you.”

“What is the big deal?”

“I wasn’t going to leave it with your assistant, if that’s what you call that woman back there.”

Franklin studied me for a minute, then broke out into a laugh. “You’re still out of control, you know that?”

“When’s your meeting done?”

“Go back to Brenda and tell her to give you directions to the Grey Lounge. I’ll meet you there at—around five-thirty. Okay?”

“Franklin—I’m serious.”

“Yeah, I know. I am too. Just ask her and then wait for me there. Get a drink and loosen up. You look like you need one.”

“You look like you’re applying for
The Apprentice.”

Franklin chuckled. “I’m applying for Donald Trump’s job.”

“If you’re not there, I’m coming over to your house.”

Something on Franklin’s face changed, and it alarmed me. He was going to say something, probably out of anger, then he stopped himself and bit his lip.

“I’ll be there.”

I nodded, and was going to let him leave when he said one last thing to me.

“And Jake—I know where Alec is. I know all about Alec. I’ll tell you everything so you can stop your little adventure to find the missing college buddy.”

He turned around and slipped back into his meeting. I stood there for a moment, just looking at the door and wondering how in the world Franklin knew this and whether or not he was lying.

TWENTY-SEVEN
          March 1994

“YOU SHOULD’VE BEEN THERE”.

The group hanging out at Four-leaf Clover stopped their conversation and watched, waiting for word. Bruce came in wearing a sweater and smoking a cigarette. Franklin took off his coat and did something surprising; he reached for a cup and poured himself a beer out of the nearest pitcher. Then he sat down at a seat around the two adjoining tables and let out a sigh.

“That’s a bad sign,” Alec said.

“What?” Franklin asked. His usually perfectly combed hair looked windblown.

“You drinking.”

“I’m thirsty,” he replied, then added, “and I’m tired of all the fools at this school.”

“What happened?” Jake asked, not wanting to hear but knowing he had to.

The meeting that had taken place on campus two hours earlier was all about him. Him and Brian and Chad. The only two from his crowd who ended up going were Franklin and Bruce. Jake didn’t want to be at a meeting where they were talking about the fates of Brian and Chad, both suspended until further notice. Alec hadn’t gone because he was still furious
at everything, and he knew he would probably go off during the meeting. Mike and Shane had joined them at the bar to wait for word.

Bruce cursed in frustration.

“That bad?” Jake asked.

“It was pretty much evenly divided between people who said that Brian and Chad deserve to be expelled and others who said you had it coming,” Bruce said.

“Who said that?” Jake asked.

“Quite a few people,” Franklin answered. “You’d be surprised how many people were there. Probably 150 or more.”

Bruce nodded in agreement.

“Alyssa was there, by the way,” Bruce said.

“Did she speak up?”

“No. I think—she left, didn’t she?”

“Yeah. They started talking about you and how many times you’d been kicked out and all that stuff, and she ended up walking out.”

“So, what?” Jake asked, his brow confused and tight. “People are saying I brought this all on?”

“Some of ’em were at the party where you put out the cigarette on Brian’s head,” Franklin said.

“You guys were there. It wasn’t like I scarred him or anything. It was no big deal.”

“Some people were saying it was assault.”

“That guy deserves to have a cigarette put out in other places,” Shane said.

“They said that the cops didn’t have proof, so how could Providence expel students that weren’t officially charged.”

“I’m not proof enough?” Jake asked.

“And they kept saying ‘off-site incident,’” Bruce added. “I swear, if they said that one more time, I was going to explode.”

It was interesting to see Bruce incensed. Alec, sure, but Bruce normally just sat back and watched the world pass. Tonight he was different.

Franklin seemed to be the only one there with a level head. “Because this happened off campus, there are certain things they can and can’t do.”

“They wouldn’t want to kick out their star basketball player, would they?” Alec scoffed.

“This has already gotten lots of bad press,” Franklin said. “They talked about that. The implications of letting these guys back on campus. And should there be anything done about Jake.”

“Anything done about me?” Jake burst out. “Like what?”

“Necessary suspensions. Whatever.”

“Am I hearing this right?”

Bruce looked over at him and nodded.

For a moment, they were all silent.

Jake picked up an empty pitcher and waved it at the bartender. He wished Carnie were here. He hadn’t spoken much with his big roommate since everything happened. Carnie had said he would meet them at the sports bar, but he never showed up.

“They talked for a while about off-campus parties and what should be done about them,” Bruce continued.

Franklin nodded. “Some idiot started talking about my New Year’s Eve party, and I was like, ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’ Everybody laughed, because half of them had been there. Even Ms. Peterson smiled at that.”

“She was there?” Jake asked.

“Oh, sure. The president was there, several professors. You missed a big party.”

Jake shook his head and grabbed the fresh pitcher.

God bless Budweiser
, he thought as he poured himself the only available antidote to this insanity. “So what’s the final verdict?” he asked.

“They had to end things because there was no verdict. Some of these self-righteous girls were talking out about drinking and partying and why do people go to Christian schools if they want to do this and on and on.”

Alec swore again, and Jake echoed the sentiment. Franklin continued.

“Ms. Peterson eventually had to step in—you know, it was an open forum. But it got a little off track. They said they would evaluate the issues at hand.”

“No way those guys should’ve gotten off,” Mike said.

Alec was getting more riled up. “I’m not surprised. Hey. if it was Jake and me pounding Brian’s face into the ground, it’d be a
whole
different thing.”

“Would it?” Jake asked.

Alec crinkled his face, astonished Jake would even ask. “Come on.”

“They didn’t have any eyewitnesses. That’s what they keep coming back to.”

“Are you going to press charges?” Franklin said.

“Then I’d have to involve my parents and lawyers and a whole mess. And if the cops don’t think they have a case, what am I supposed to do?”

“You tell your parents yet?” Franklin asked.

Jake shook his head. He didn’t know how to begin. Telling his parents would mean getting at the core of the problem in their mind: Jake. His drinking, his friends, his habits, his spending, and blah-blah-blah.

For a while the guys talked about prosecuting. Franklin said his family had a good lawyer that Jake could have, and that made them all laugh. As if Franklin’s family lawyer would just step in at no charge.

“The thing the college wants is for everything just to blow over,” Franklin eventually said.

“How’s it going to ‘blow over’?” Alec asked.

“We move on.”

“We’ll have to see those jerks every day and Jake will be walking around after being knocked unconscious and we’re supposed to believe in Christian brotherly love?” Alec cursed God and wasn’t bashful about doing so.

“I’m going to put on some music,” Mike said, trying to lighten the mood.

“You know—
USA Today
picks up a story on this, they’ll be rethinking things,” Alec said with anger in his eyes.

“Maybe we should send it to them,” Shane suggested.

“Or at least go talk to the president,” Jake added.

Alec lit up a cigarette and shook his head. “I don’t want to talk to that idiot.”

“Ms. Peterson will understand,” Franklin said.

“We can get them kicked off campus,” Shane said.

“Maybe we can stage a protest,” Bruce added.

“Maybe we should all just chill,” Jake finally said.

“Meaning?”

He looked at Alec, sitting next to him. “Meaning that really, this is between Brian, Chad, and me. The fact that I don’t even
know
Chad is one thing. But I’m partially the reason this happened.”

“They want you to think that way,” Alec said.

“Yeah, I know. And I’m not saying Providence is being smart about it. If they let those guys back on campus—that’s just a reality I have to face. The college isn’t in love with me. I’m like a little black stain on their résumé. They just want to get rid of me. Maybe that’s all that will matter.”

“What?” Mike asked him.

“Finishing up the school year and getting my tail out of here.”

“Pretty sad,” Bruce said.

“What?”

“That our final semester has to be like this. Or the final semester for some of us.”

“Once you guys go, I’m out of here,” Alec said. “I hate this place.”

“But you came back,” Jake said with a smile.

“Well, yeah. Who else was going to take care of you?”

The Depeche Mode song came on, and the loud, thundering drums and the piano filled the entire room. Mike came back just as the lead singer belted out the word
condemnation
.

Jake laughed at Mike’s selection. He remembered the concert the two of them had attended last fall. Back when things were normal. When life wasn’t so complicated.

Accusations
, Dave Gahan continued to sing.
Lies. Hand me my sentence, I’ll show no repentance, I’ll suffer with pride
.

“Amen to that,” Jake said over the music, holding up a full beer and toasting.

The guys laughed, and it felt good to see their smiles. This was his problem, and he was the only one who had to deal
with it, not them. Even Alec gave in, and held up his beer to the toast.

“To my friends,” Jake said, and they all chorused, “To friends.”

Then he noticed the empty chair where Carnie should have been sitting.

BOOK: Admission
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