If Only She'd Loved Him

Chapter 28

Jean felt heat grow around her eyes, an annoying pressure building up behind the corneas.  The tears started to fall.  I really could hate all guys, she decided, giving her face a quick swipe.  Maybe I'll go join a convent and never worry about them again.  Of course, I'd have to convert and there's that other little problem. Just as Jean was wondering if she could stand wearing a wimple for the rest of her life, she felt a yank on her sweater sleeve.

"Hey!" she spun around.  This was one of her favorite sweaters.  Pulling it didn't do its fabric any good.

"Jean, hey Jean-Genie, slow down," Matt panted.  Hands on his knees, he fought to get his breath back.  "Why'd you run out like that? he asked.  "Are you mad about something?"

Could men be more clueless?  "No," Jean looked up at his grey eyes hidden behind glass.  Eyes which couldn't see the obvious.  "No," she added sadly.  After all he hadn't said he was or wasn't dating Kerolyn.  She'd jumped to the conclusion that they still were together. Matt hadn't really done anything wrong.  He just wasn't interested in her.  "Nothing, absolutely nothing," she finished, wondering why unattainable guys were the most desirable.

"Good," Matt said. "I told Paul we'd meet him inside.  You ready to go now?"

Jean squared her shoulders, remembered what she should be doing, why she was doing it. "Yeah sure," she sighed, "let's go."

Though he reached the building long before Matt and Jean, Paul still raced to the second floor, taking the stairs three at a time.  He was eager to conduct his first real interrogation. He knew who Sean was. They'd taken a seminar on Machiavelli last year. Not that he'd spoken to him, but the class had been small. Stepping through a cheap curtain of red plastic beads, he kicked a leaking beanbag aside with his foot. There was Sean, sitting at a round table with a bunch of oddly shaped dice in front of him.  He wasn't alone.  Three other people, including a girl with hair down to her waist, and a guy with neon green glasses seemingly held up by the serious look on his face, flanked him.  Weekends are wasted on geeks, Paul thought.  Setting one hamhock on Sean's shoulder, he spun him around, taking him by complete surprise.

"Wozianowski, words now!"

Sean looked up, saw who it was, and wanted to puke on the spot.  He fought not to start shaking as Paul clutched at his bony shoulder. "Let go," he muttered without confidence.  Paul squeezed harder, lifting him out of his chair.

"I said," he growled. "I want to talk to you." 

Jean and Matt arrived just as Paul was hoisting Sean.  Matt, instantly recognizing the good cop, bad cop scenario, slipped into his pre-determined role.  "Haverson, quit it!  Come on, give the guy a chance."

The student closest to Sean, readjusted his glasses, frowning at them both over the frames. "We're busy here."

Paul ignored him.  Hand still on Sean's shoulder, he made as if to drag him physically from the room.  The boy wearing glasses shook his head.

"Hey, you can't do that!  We'll call security."

"Do, and I'll break your face."

Matt shrugged.  Paul was always at his finest when he was threatening somebody.  "Don't sweat it.   We just need to settle something up here."  He pointed to Sean being half-bodily removed from the room, feet dragging on the floor.  "You'll have him back in a moment."

Paul yanked Sean into the closest open room, pushing him hard into a chair.  The freckles on Sean's face stood out like beacons as he stared up in terror.  He gulped.  Matt and Jean sat down nearby.

"What do you guys want?" Sean asked, his shirt starting to melt into sweat.

Paul smiled.  His brute rugby side had completely overpowered his more analytical half.  He hovered over Sean, liking the effect it had on him.  He cowered nicely.  Jean got up, joining Paul's side.  Sean stopped shaking as he saw her.

"You?  Is this some game of yours, and your bitch of a roommate?" he sneered.

"Watch your mouth!" Paul spun the chair holding Sean.  He paused for a second, more than a little surprised at himself.  Had he really just defended Jean? 

"Or what?" Sean countered, eyes only on Jean. "I'm not afraid of you, you stupid jock.  You can't do anything to me!" Jean punched him in the stomach.  "Ughh!" 

"That's for Megan and—" she clenched her fist again and aimed towards Sean's solar plexus.  Her knuckles ploughed into his chest.  Jean was a lousy shot. "That's from me!"

"Jean!" Matt and Paul cried out in sync.  Matt caught Jean's hand just as it swung down towards Sean again. It shook in his palm.  "Come on, that's enough!" he snapped.  Matt leaned towards Sean, smiled as if in confidence with him.  "All we want to know, is if your ex-roommate has been back to campus lately?"

Sean shook his head and coughed, his hands still clutched around his stomach.  "Like, I'd tell you assholes if he were."

Paul smiled grimly.  He pointed to the door.  "Matt, why don't you and Jean wait outside while Wozianowski and I... talk."  Jean shook her head, eyes dark and narrowed.

"I want to watch."

"Fine, then Taylor, guard the door, will ya?"  Matt nodded, shrugged.  At least he'd tried.  He walked towards the door.

"Hey, you can't just leave me here with him!"  Sean called after him.

"Sure, I can," Matt responded with his most cheerful grin.  He shut the door as he left.

Sean began to shake.  Jean and Paul were looking like they'd like to beat the heck out of him.  He tried to gather up his guts, but Paul didn't give him a chance.  He grabbed his neck.

"Now, I'll ask again.  Has Miller been back on campus in the last few months?"

Sean struggled to breathe.  His breath came fast and short as Paul slowly released his grip.  "Yeah," he gasped.  "He was here."

Jean smiled.  "I knew it!"  She slapped the side of Sean's chair, making him jump. "What was he doing here?" she demanded.  "He was supposed to have quit school."

"Yeah, because of your slut roommate," Sean found courage enough to sneer back. "He told me how she led him on, and then treated him like dirt when he wouldn't play her games."

"What else did he tell you?" Jean asked.  Paul got tired of holding Sean's neck so he let go.  Futilely, Sean tried to get some dignity back by straightening out the collar of his shirt.

"Nothin," he muttered. 

Paul shook his head.  "Wrong answer."  Sean paled fast.

"Look, I only saw him quick, say a month ago in the parking lot.  It's not like he stopped by to say hi or anything.  I asked him what he was doing here, but he just said he missed being here, that maybe he'd made a mistake about leaving.  Then he asked about Megan.  He wanted to know what she was up to, if she was seeing someone.  I said that I didn't care what she did, that he shouldn't care about her either, but he got pissed off.  So then I told him that I thought she was seeing someone new," he glared up at Paul, "some brain-dead jock."  Paul's smile didn't drop an inch, but he dug his knuckles into Sean with a quick twist.  Jean didn't notice or care that Sean winced. 

"You said a month ago?" she asked.

"Yeah, so what?" he mumbled.

"That's when Megan's diary says she felt like she was being watched."

Suddenly, Sean squirmed.  He looked even more uncomfortable.  "So?" he repeated sullenly.

"So," Jean's voice turned hard, "What else did your ex-roommate have to say about Megan, and where is he now?"