relationship between you and Leo Rochman, which will have catastrophic
consequences for you both.
I read the letter again, certain that I had missed something, I’d missed the punchline, or the part where Leo said it was really from him, and it was all a joke, and what he REALLY wanted was for me to let him tie me back up again. But no—there was only an anonymous Gmail address that I was supposed to email the paper to when I was finished.
Catastrophic consequences? My stomach tightened, and my heart rate quickened. I looked around, even though I knew no one would be sitting there in my apartment, watching me. But still. Someone had figured out what we were doing. I realized now how foolish it had been, how brazen, to hook up with him in the bar like that, to not wear any underwear to school after he requested it. We hadn’t been making out in the middle of campus, but we definitely hadn’t been as careful as we could have. There was no excuse for it, other than I just felt so caught up in the moment, he made me feel so good, that I was happy to go to any lengths to keep that feeling alive.
I took a deep breath and tried to tell myself that this was nothing, to just ignore it. But I knew I couldn’t do that; it wasn’t nothing. It was someone with an agenda, someone who wanted something, and I was the one they wanted it from.
I got my phone. I needed to talk to Leo. I wanted to hear his voice and for him to tell me that it was going to be okay. I was about to call him, but then I put the phone down. No, the letter didn’t say anything about not telling him, but I was starting to think that maybe it would be better if I didn’t. He seemed like the sort of person who would tell me not to do it, not to give whoever wrote this letter what they wanted, because that would be letting them win. He wouldn’t care about the consequences; even if he got fired, he’d go get another job somewhere, even if it wasn’t a teaching position. I kind of got the feeling that he wouldn’t have minded that at all. No, I couldn’t let him find out about this.
Instead, I called Lindsey.
“Hey, what’s up?” she said.
“Can you come over?”
“Right now?” she asked, sounding surprised.
“Yeah. I know we were just hanging out, but . . . I need to show you something. I just need you to come over.” I tried to keep my voice from shaking. I didn’t know if I was scared, angry, or both. The black print stood out in stark contrast on the white page.
“Of course,” she said. “I’ll be over in a few minutes.”
I paced my apartment until the doorbell rang. I buzzed Lindsey up.
“What’s wrong?” she asked immediately when she got inside.
I opened my mouth to start to tell her, but then I just handed her the piece of paper. I watched her face as she read it, her frown getting deeper and deeper. Then she examined the letter very closely, as though it might provide clues over who sent it.
“When did you get this?” she asked.
“Just now. I don’t know if it came today or yesterday, though; I haven’t checked the mail in a couple days. Usually there’s never anything that interesting. Not that this is interesting.”
“That is super sketch,” she said, handing the paper back to me. “Who the hell sent that? How did they know where you lived? And why the fuck do they want you to write a paper? I’d think they’d be asking for money or something.”
“I guess it’s not money that they’re after.”
“So it must be someone at school then. A student. Whose class assigned that topic? Is there any way to find that out?”
“I don’t know. Maybe, but not without making people suspicious.”
She took a deep breath and puffed her cheeks out as she exhaled. “That’s crazy, Tessa. It really is. What are you going to do?”
I put the letter down on the coffee table. “I don’t know. I just can’t believe that someone found out about this. Maybe that’s naïve, but I didn’t think people actually noticed me enough to really figure out what was going on. And you’re the only person I’ve told.”
She held her hands up. “Tessa. I promise you that it wasn’t me.”
“That’s not what I’m saying,” I said. “I don’t think that it was you. But have you mentioned it to anyone else?”
“No! I’ve been totally quiet about it. I’d tell you the truth if I hadn’t. Have you told Leo?”
“No, and I don’t think I’m going to. I could see him telling me to just let whoever sent this go forward with outing us. And I can’t have that happen. It might not be as big of a deal to him, but if I end up getting expelled . . .that is the absolute last thing that can happen.”
“So you’re going to write the paper?”
“I have to! I don’t really have another choice.”
“It’s so weird. Who have you told about this? How would someone know? It’s not like you’ve been broadcasting it to the whole school. Unless . . . do you think he told someone? You know how guys are—always bragging about the pussy they get. He probably told someone, and they’re jealous, and they’re trying to come up with whatever they can to get back at you.”