Chasing Rusty Parer

Chapter Nineteen -- Pride, Prejudice And Other Demons

"So, are you going to tell me how it went?" Maddox eyed him carefully from time to time, as he still needed to keep his eyes on the road, which was a blessing in disguise.

Rusty placed the card carefully on the dashboard and leaned back. Even the interior of the car was luxurious and it made him low-key envious that he didn't have a boyfriend like Jonathan. Not because he was loaded, but because it was more than a nice gesture to receive a thoughtful gift like this. He had overheard Jonathan explaining to Kane how he had done some serious research on what a young man in finance should drive.

People never thought that much about him. Sure, Maddox was his bestie, and Jonathan showed his good intentions all the time, but Rusty believed that when dealing with most people it was better if their interest remained superficial. Anyone trying to get to know him better than his persona -- carefully crafted, if anyone was asking -- made him feel like he needed to draw the bridge and let them swim around in the moat until they got bored. They should be thankful that he hadn't thought of adding sharks as entertainment.

"She praised me and put me down at the same time," he explained in a low voice, as he looked out the car window, at the passing scenery. Too bad, he wouldn't be seeing the same places again.

"Okay, I can see why someone would do that to you. No offense," Maddox added, when Rusty looked at him with reproachful eyes. "Come on, man, you know what I mean. But let's hear it. Don't keep it bottled up inside. You know you never deal well with bottling up and the like."

Rusty sighed and closed his eyes. "She gave me some tests, asked me to sing different songs, just to gauge my range and stuff like that. And she thinks I have a wonderful voice, I kid you not, and that I can go from tenor to baritone with proper work and interest, because I'm that versatile."

"Tell me you didn't burst out laughing at that word."

"Is that how well you know me?" Rusty opened one eye to give Maddie his signature angry-pirate-who-lost-an-eye-fighting-a-whale look.

"Yes," Maddox replied, completely unfazed.

"I, like, chuckled. For a second, no more."

"Did she give you the evil eye for playing the fool?"

"No. She smiled. And that was worse, in a way."

"How come?"

Too bad the drive back to the campus took exactly as long as when they'd driven to see Mrs. May. "Well, you do know me," Rusty admitted. "So, when people are mean to me, I know how to handle them. I take all that meanness and wrap it around their necks like a scarf."

"How nice of you."

"Nope. It's like I wrap them in their mean scarves when it's more than one hundred degrees or so outside."

"Okay, so she wasn't mean. What was she? What did she tell you?"

"She started explaining how to control my breathing and stuff like that. Technical stuff, and she guided me through it."

"It sounds to me like you aced it. I know that if you put your mind to anything, you'll do it and surpass it."

Rusty took another deep breath. "Not this time. I swear, Maddie, Mrs. May must have spoken to your beloved Johnny because she told me something he also mentioned."

"What's that?"

"Tension," Rusty muttered under his breath and looked out the car window again, feeling sullen all of a sudden.

"What do you mean, tension? Those guys singing opera always look so stiff that I can only imagine what a feat it must be to get through it all. And they also manage to make all those faces at the same time. It must be hard."

"Well, yeah, but making all those faces is not hard for me. Letting go of the tension is. I don't even know what she's talking about. Or Jonathan. She said something to me like, 'Rusty, you must sing with joy, not all this fierceness' and, trust me, I can't."

Maddox remained silent for some time. "Maybe," he said cautiously, as if he was choosing each word carefully, "you could let go a little and, you know, show yourself. How you really are."

"Don't side with the enemy, Maddie," Rusty warned. "That tension, or whatever she says it is, is--" He stopped. Not even with Maddox could he be that honest. That tension was keeping him glued together. That wasn't something anyone else but he himself could understand. And not even he thought that he understood it all. He just depended on it, and it made him low-key annoyed when people saw it. First, Jonathan, and then, Mrs. Day. Was he starting to crack and unravel in places or something? No one was supposed to see it.

"Take the card back." They were at a stop, so Maddox reached for the thing and slapped it on Rusty's chest. "You're not getting out of this. You're going to see Mrs. May again."

"I don't think so," Rusty said stubbornly. He took the card from Maddox and ripped it in two.

Maddox gave him a startled look. Then, he wrenched the two halves from his hand and pushed them into his pocket. "I think I'll keep this for you. Until you stop acting like a mule."

"Good luck with that." Rusty snorted and turned his back to Maddox.

At least, his bestie knew when to shut up. Yeah, he was pissed. She had seen right through him and advised him to come back when he realized what was more important than keeping up an act that wasn't him. Francine must have talked to her, warned her somehow.

And that made him a bit angry. Even though he knew both of them were right.

***

Matty and Zoey snuck through the rows of attendees in search of some empty seats, and it looked like their only choice was to sit in the front, barely one foot or so away from the speaker. At first, Matty didn't even recognize Connor Williams. The guy must have gone to one of those TV shows, specializing in makeovers, because he didn't look one ounce like he used to. Gone were the billowy flowery shirts and the hippie hair, the colorful bracelets, even the fake benevolent gaze he had used to bestow upon lesser mortals.

For starters, he wore a suit and held his body in a rigid posture, his hands resting on his claimed pulpit while only his eyes moved, inspecting the crowd that still had a hard time settling down, like seals on an iceberg. His hair was cut short and fashioned à la military reject, and the pretended well-meant look had been replaced by a harsh glint speaking of a lack of forgiveness.

"That's quite the transformation," Matty whispered to Zoey.

"I told you. He's gone one-eighty. Actually, I think he's spinning off of his axis. But let's hear him first."

Matty couldn't agree more. Something astonishing was in the works, and they basically had front row seats to it. To say that he was curious would be a major understatement.

Finally, it looked like the easily inconvenienced seals had found their places and after Connor coughed loudly a couple of times to get the attention of the interested attendees, a silence fell over the room.

"Fellow students," Connor began and consulted the papers in front of him briefly with an important frown, "I am glad to see you here in such large numbers. That gives me hope for the future of Sunny Hill." A pause for effect followed, as another look at the papers that had to contain the secret to eternal life by how carefully he thumbed them from time to time. "Did you know that we are the 348th college in the country? 348," he pronounced slowly. "That's our place."

"I bet you five bucks he pulled that number out of his ass," Zoey whispered.

"No point in betting. I agree," Matty whispered back.

Their muttering didn't go unnoticed. Connor's steely gaze rested on them for a brief moment, and his lips pursed in disappointment. Matty wasn't sure whether it was because of the nerve of them to talk in class or Zoey's bright pink jacket deemed so insufferable.

"Do you know that we used to be a lot higher?"

"How much higher?" Zoey asked loudly.

Matty tried to shush her, but it was too late.

Connor stared with fresh disdain at Zoey. "We used to be the 127th." Annoyed with the interruption, he thumbed his papers again. "What does that tell you, students of Sunny Hill? Are we failing the first test of our lives as adults?"

A few murmurs confirmed the frightening perspective laid out so carefully in front of them. Matty stole a few looks around. He hadn't expected so many people to come and listen to Connor. However, compared to the total number of students living on campus, it wasn't an important percentage. Still, the way the people there stared at Connor like he was about to announce the Second Coming or to tell them that he was himself, that gave him the willies a bit.

"Our education is going downhill," Connor continued and smacked his closed fist on the lectern, making the poor wooden structure tremble in fear of domestic violence for a bit. "We treat college like it's a four-year summer camp, from which we emerge not one bit wiser than when we entered, with fresh innocent faces, waiting to be enlightened." At the last word, he raised one hand to the ceiling, and all the pairs of eyes in attendance followed his gesture, expecting some kind of miracle or punishment to fall upon them next.

"I don't remember that part," Zoey muttered under her breath. "I'm afraid I've never been an innocent face."

"I can vouch for that," Matty agreed, while his eyes remained on Connor. He had to give it to the guy. Something of how he moved and talked was on par with the behavior and slimy magnetism of a snake oil salesman. And the ignorant crowd waited, brains wide open for a little washing.

"Have we found that enlightenment?" Connor continued. After each question, he took his time to examine the faces of those in attendance, as if he expected answers.

Zoey made a gesture to raise her hand, but Matty caught her. "Let's play the invisible spectators' part for now," he advised. His bestie put her hand down, but not without a pout to let him know that she was disappointed.

"What we have found is how to live a life without meaning," Connor offered the answer in their stead. "A life spent partying, drinking, experimenting with illegal substances. A life wasted by investing our time in meaningless sexual encounters."

"Here we go," Zoey murmured, her hands stuffed into the pockets of her jacket, which made her look like a pink balloon.

A few more murmurs of approval emerged from the audience.

"This isn't what I want to take with me when I leave college," Connor enunciated with self-importance. He leaned on the lectern with one elbow and gave another sweeping gaze to the crowd in front of him. "I want to leave this place happy with myself, and with my fellow students."

"What should we do?" someone suddenly wailed from a middle row.

Matty tried to see who the speaker was, but he had turned too late.

"Don't tell me," Zoey muttered again. "Here comes the PowerPoint presentation."

"There's no way--" Matty started.

The whiteboard behind Connor lit up. Matty craned his neck and saw someone behind the projector, a short girl with hair like a nest. She operated the machine like a little witch bent over her potion cauldron. It looked like the speaker for the masses had help.

Displayed in front of them was an aerial view of the campus. Connor turned toward it and gave the sight a look of proper respect and admiration. "This place of learning," he boomed, "deserves all of our attention, understanding, and love."

A few people in the audience began clapping, but the sounds died down, as Connor put one hand up in modesty, as if he wasn't worthy of any such display of appreciation just yet.

"We won't hide our love for learning," he continued in a sweeter tone. Then, he raised his voice again. "We won't hide in the shadows, huddled together under the umbrella of some secret society like our ancestors."

"What ancestors?" Zoey wondered quietly. "This college is like twenty years old or something."

Matty patted her knee in sympathy.

"No, we don't have to hide," Connor continued and waved his right arm with aplomb, seeking allies with his eyes everywhere in the room. Finally, someone seemed to take the cue and jumped to their feet. "Yeah!"

A few others followed, and it looked like that spark was enough. Matty looked around, feeling second-hand embarrassment at the display of sudden emotion at Connor's speech.

"We will dedicate ourselves to the high ideals of learning. We will aim higher! We will be better! We will be the best!"

The agitation in the room increased gradually, like an undercurrent turning into a wave.

"We will be a force for good," Connor continued. He made a short gesture meant for the witch with the projector. "We will be," he raised his voice again while the image changed behind him, "the Sunny Hill Implacable Team!"

More people jumped to their feet to applaud. Matty and Zoey exchanged a nonplussed look.

"Is he for real?" Matty asked with a frown.

Zoey just let her jaw drop, shook her head, and then put her jaw back on with one hand.

Connor gestured for the audience to calm down, with a smarmy smile. He looked pleased. "Behold our crest," he said, pointing at the projected image again.

The shield design showed an open manuscript and above it some sort of bird, a cross between a raven and a vulture, was perched, its claws digging deep into the pages. The initials were separated, S and H on top, and the other two below.

"Second Hand Information Technology," Zoey whispered at him. "So Happy It's Tuesday. Sorry Hoe It's Tea--"

"Yeah," Matty barely managed.

Connor interrupted their little conversation, booming again from his pulpit, this time with more excitement and his hands grabbing the edges whether for balance or to keep himself from soaring toward the ceiling.

"We won't hide, no! But we will do even more! We will help our fellow students, who have been left prey to all these--"

"Is he going to call them vices? Temptations?" Zoey wondered in a subdued voice.

"--temptations," Connor continued.

"Bingo," Zoey congratulated herself.

"--with no one to pick up their cause and turn it into a credo, and we will show them that there is more to college life than mindless drinking and partying and hooking up!" Connor shouted, his eyes burning in his head.

"There's more, more," someone chanted from the agitated audience.

Matty shook his head. Some people. How could they not see how false Connor was? And how come that awful acronym didn't stop them from shouting like zealots?

Connor made another gesture to make the crowd calm down. Apparently, he had more to say. "Sunny Hill has become a place where students end up valuing excess in the deplorable activities I mentioned before, and those who excel in them."

"Here it comes," Zoey said. "Matty, pay attention."

He was all ears.

"Someone like Rusty Parker," Connor thundered, "who's one step from flunking all his exams, an unreliable team player on the basketball court, who indulges in partying as a way of life, is called a king!"

The audience fell completely silent.

Connor seemed to sense that his dominance over the captive audience was slipping. He shouted louder. "A king! How can that even be a thing? We don't celebrate worthless aristocracy in this country! We make ourselves with our two hands! In a way, yes, Rusty Parker can be called a king. He's as profligate as one! A reprobate!"

"Oh, my, what big words," Zoey whispered and leaned toward Matty.

"We shouldn't go through college subjected to a constant popularity contest," Connor continued, his eyes shifting across the audience.

"Yeah!" someone confirmed.

Matty was starting to think that each time, the supporter was the same person.

"Rusty Parker is no better than you and I," Connor said. "I'd even dare to say that he's below most of us. We're better than him. We want more from us, not partying our lives away!" He made another sweeping arc with his right arm.

"No shit," Zoey said with a shake of the head.

"You can do something to make this false reign disappear," Connor continued.

"What can we even do?" someone cried out, as if Rusty was some kind of despot, keeping them in chains.

"It's simple," Connor said with a magnanimous smile. "From today onward, we will ignore Rusty Parker. He no longer exists." Another expansive sweep of the arm. "He has no power over us. And we will teach others what to do about it, too. They should ignore him. They should stop looking up to someone as undeserving as him. We're better! We're the best Sunny Hill can offer!"

Clapping followed. Matty shook his head in disbelief. He grabbed Zoey's arm to drag her away. "I've had enough. You?"

"Totally," Zoey agreed. "We should totally tell Rusty about this."

Matty exchanged a short look with Connor on his way out. It was strange to think that the man at the pulpit would deign to spare a stare at a simple member of the audience, but maybe he could still blame it on Zoey's pink jacket.

During that brief moment, Connor's mask slipped, and Matty saw the ugliness below, the calculated strategy, the ambition and the greed. He wasn't the first to look away. Connor displayed an affable smile as he took in his loving audience.

***

"What have the two of you been up to?" Kane questioned them the moment they stepped through the door.

Rusty rushed toward the stairs. "Maddie, you better not say a word, or I'll be mad at you until Christmas!"

"Now that makes me curious," Kane said and crossed his arms, while looking at Rusty as he passed by him at full speed. "It's clearly not enough to stop Rusty from wanting Christmas presents."

"He'll talk when he's ready," Maddox said with a weary sigh.

Seriously, these days he was turning kind of annoying. It had to be Jonathan's influence, Rusty thought and pursed his lips. "I'm not home for anyone until I say otherwise," he announced. "So you, nosy housemates, better keep your nose out of it and let me be. Not one of you come knocking, or I'll wrestle you to the floor until you cry for your mommy."

"Jonathan's cooking tonight," Maddox announced. "Are you sure you're strong enough to resist?"

"I said, I'm not home for anyone," Rusty added petulantly.

A sudden energetic knock on the door made them all turn toward it. Maddox went to get it. A pretty disheveled Matty was there, breathing hard as if he had been running. "Is Rusty home? I need to tell him something, and I don't want to do it over the phone."

"He's not--" Maddox started.

Rusty groaned. "I'm right here, and he can probably see my shoes or something. Come on in, Matty."

Matty looked confusedly at Maddox and Kane as he entered. Maddox offered him an apologetic shrug. Kane just rolled his eyes and threw his arms out like he couldn't be bothered anymore.

That was exactly what he needed. A distraction. And Matty was the best kind of distraction because he reminded Rusty why he had felt like a million dollars that morning and brave enough to call Mrs. May, regardless of the disappointment experienced after. You can't be truly great if you don't let go of what's holding you back. Those had been her exact words. Maybe I don't want to be truly great. That had been what he had said to her. Maybe I should wait for you for another half a year. Now that had been a great suggestion on her part. Go back, think if that is what you want, all that jazz.

No, he couldn't do that. But he could chase that formidable sensation experienced the night before in Matty's arms. Yes, that he could do. Chase after the pleasure and the happiness that came with it.

***

Matty had noticed the strange tension between the housemates the moment he had set foot in the room, but he had more pressing matters than to ask Rusty what that was all about. Rusty needed to know that he had an enemy on campus, and even if he brushed it off, Matty thought it pretty important. Connor would surely spread ugly things about Rusty, and he would try to attack his character, even though he didn't know him at all.