Chapter 17: The Terms

Dexter's footsteps crossed the porch and went down the walk.

He did not slam the door. He did not look back.

Through the front window I watched him cross the lawn, bent under the duffle, until the dark took him.

"What did you do?" Mom asked me. "What do you mean, you already did?"

"I sent the integrity office a statement last night," I said. "Every paper I wrote, what I was paid, my name on all of it. Not anybody else's."

Dad nodded slowly.

"I'll go with you Monday," he said.

"I know. You told me."

Hallie touched my sleeve.

"We'll be in the truck," she said. "Norman has a thermos. Take as long as you want."

Norman looked at Mom and Dad, put his cap on and followed Hallie out.

The roommate nodded to me from the hall, and went too.

Then it was the three of us, in a dining room full of cold turkey.

"Out on the porch," I said. "I don't want to sit at this table."

We went out and sat on the steps in our coats, with the swing creaking behind us in the wind.

Mom sat on my left and Dad on my right, and I made sure they were a full step apart.

"May we show you something?" Mom asked. "You can say no."

"Show me."

She took out her phone and opened a folder in her photos.

It was named J.

There were hundreds of pictures in it. I saw a lopsided birthday cake, and a recital where I held a trumpet I never learned to play.

Some of them were from this year.

They were screenshots of my school's website, my dorm's name, the weather in the city where I lived.

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