It's cruel, really, the wait for the investigation.
Life crashes on around us, simultaneously in slow motion but also so speedily it's like a hurricane stealing our breath.
My nerves are constantly shot and every message I get on my phone, every email I receive, I think it's going to be related to the investigation, giving me some kind of news.
Josh is in a similar boat, often phoning me multiple times a day because he's having a hard time doing anything other than wait in anticipation.
We've somehow ended up in a routine of seeing each other pretty much every day and there's an occasional sleepover still, on really bad days.
Even now, I still can't tell whether the girls simply don't notice, or if they just don't say anything. Any teasing on Anandi's end has stopped and she actually grovelled for a solid half hour once she found out about the investigation, apologising over and over again because she didn't realise exactly what my friendship with Josh entailed.
Of course, I just smiled and shook my head. She wasn't to know.
Given that we've been spending a lot of time together, it's fitting that we're sitting together in the Beanery on a Friday, trying desperately to study, when our phones chime at the same time with an email.
We both scramble for our phones and my eyes widen in shock when I realise that it's Dean Matthews.
Hardly even properly reading it, my brain joltingly registers the words concluded, meeting and today.
I shoot up from my seat, haphazardly jamming all of my things in my backpack, struggling to fit them all in. "We- we have to go. Right now."
Josh nearly drops his laptop as he stuffs it into his bag, his eyes wide. "Come on."
We tear out of the coffee shop, racing towards Dean Matthews' office with our backpacks banging ferociously against our backs, nearly knocking over a dozen or so people who just happen to be in our way.
Luckily, I've still been going to the gym, so I manage to keep pace with Josh.
We arrive, panting messes outside his office and his secretary looks up, completely disarmed at our presence.
Pulling my phone out and unlocking it to find the email, I thrust it in her general direction, but I'm sure my hand is shaking far too much for her to actually read it. "Dean Matthews- he- he asked us for a- meeting," I pant, trying and failing to regain my breath so I can be even remotely coherent.
Josh is full-on shaking right now, head to toe. He's bouncing on his feet, his head bobbing up and down, his hands clenching into fists and relaxing, over and over.
The secretary looks between the pair of us, both completely nervous wrecks, her eyes like saucers. "Right," she says slowly, her gaze slipping to my phone. "I'll just, uh, phone through and talk to him."
It's pretty clear that she doesn't really know what to do with us, given that we're both standing in her office with probably a feral look in our eyes.
She doesn't know that everything, everything hangs on this moment.
Luckily, Dean Matthews does.
Their phone conversation doesn't last long and she turns her head to me, a small, apologetic smile tugging on her lips. "He can see you now."
I don't hesitate, just nodding my thanks as I plough past her, grabbing Josh's hand to make sure that he's on my heels.
Dean Matthews looks vaguely amused, but also relatively pained, at the sight of us, which admittedly grates on me a little. I'm not sure how this is funny.
"I don't know whether to laugh or cry that literally four minutes after I've sent that email to you, you're already here outside my office."
I cough, plopping into a seat without an invitation. "I think that depends on what you have to tell us."
He smiles a little, looking at Josh, who's standing behind me. "Please sit down, Josh."
Josh does so reluctantly and his leg immediately starts bouncing a mile a minute.
"Can you just tell us if it's good news or bad news?" I blurt out, hardly able to contain myself.
Dean Matthews nods, leaning forwards in his chair. "It's good news, for you."
The world shakes around us, my shoulders slump and my ears ring loudly.
Josh exhales a half-groan, half-whimper.
Slowly, my brain starts to process the Dean's words and I come crashing right back down again. "What do you mean, good news, for us?"
He eyes me cautiously, apprehension skittering across his features. "Well, somebody confirmed the events that you described, talking about the two men running away from the alley, looking a little injured that night. Apparently, they were already dealing with a drunk friend and saw that there were two of you there, looking okay, so didn't do anything."
My head swings to Josh, whose face is concealed behind his palms. He's got his head hung low, his elbows on his knees, as though he can't bear to look up.
Somehow, though, that doesn't feel like everything the Dean has to throw at us.
"So, the bad news is for those guys, or?"
Dean Matthews nods, still uncomfortable. "Yes, but that's not all."
I'm beyond apprehensive and my nails dig so hard into palms that I flinch.
"Five other people came forward, all telling similar stories to this one."
Silence ricochets around the office, blasting us all in the face.
I slump forward in my seat from the physical impact of the Dean's words.
Five people. Five other people.
Fuck.
"Five separate people?" I clarify, bile rising in my throat.
Dean Matthews looks grave, nodding. "Yes. Five women, all between the ages of eighteen and twenty. Four of them subjected to similar treatment from one of them and a fifth who made a claim about both of them."
That's all it takes for Josh to lurch forwards, grab the waste paper basket by the side of the Dean's desk and empty the contents of his stomach into it.
He crouches down, visibly shaking hard, as the vomiting doesn't stop.
Immediately, I'm out of my seat, rubbing his back with my palm. Hastily, I grab his curls and tie them up with the spare band around my wrist, just in case.
It's a pretty similar scene to the one at the soccer house party, where I spend quite a long time, trying to steady Josh. He's in a horrifying whirlwind of panic attack and vomit, so it takes us quite a while before he's breathing properly again and not choking on his own sick.
It really, truly cripples my heart to see him like this and also to think of the five other women who are suffering what he has because of the same people.
To his credit, the Dean doesn't say much, but produces a bottle of water and as Josh sits back in his seat, he takes little sips, his eyes closed shut.
Our hands are clasped tightly together between us, clammy and trembling.
"So," I clear my throat, turning back to the Dean. "What are you doing about the other testimonies?"
He grants me a little smile, almost as though he likes that I asked that. "Well, we've involved the police and, obviously, the two men in question are currently under investigation and have been suspended from the college."
It's a little more complicated than that, I think, with ideas being thrown around about court cases and all the rest of it, but the basics remain the same.
The two scumbags have been caught.
Almost simultaneously, Josh and I both burst into tears. It's just natural, the way we gravitate to each other, how his arms wind around me, tugging me into his lap.
Dean Matthews is probably a little overwhelmed as we cling to each other, shoulders vibrating and mouths parted, letting out wail after wail.
It's pretty difficult to contain ourselves: it's been a ridiculous few months and the last three weeks especially have taken their toll on us emotionally.
Finally, when I don't think there's much left in me, I peel my face away from Josh's neck and twist around to look at the Dean.
Even as I swivel in his lap, Josh's hands don't relax from where they're situated on my waist. In fact, it's like he's gripping onto a lifeline.
Dean Matthews looks between us, perhaps slightly amused, but I pay it no mind.
"What do we do?" Josh murmurs quietly, resting his chin on my shoulder, but his bloodshot eyes are trained on the Dean.
So, the Dean walks us through what happens next: the inevitable extra attention, the cops wanting our statements and the just general messiness of it all, especially the potential court cases and a hearing that the college want to conduct.
"You are students at this college and we want you to feel valued and well looked after," he informs us both seriously. "We want to make sure that you're doing okay after such a traumatic event, for both of you."
He talks us through the various counselling options that the college offer, which is good of him to be fair. We both decline, because Josh is already getting counselling elsewhere and I don't feel like it's the right thing for me at the minute.
Dean Matthews looks concerned at that, so I just promise him that if I think it would suit me later on down the line, I'll check it out.
I'm all for counselling and getting help, but I don't think it's right for me just now and I think that's okay too.
When I say those words, Josh sends an encouraging smile my way and squeezes my waist, letting me know that he approves of my way of trying to do what's best for me.
I smile back, appreciating the support.
We talk a little longer with the Dean, but eventually, we both find that we're pretty exhausted, so we leave not long later.
As we exit the office, Josh turns to me, his shoulder slumped. "I'm so tired, Nat. I don't think I'm going to go back to the library."
I'm supposed to be in class right now, but I just can't really stomach it. I'm sure my professors will understand when they put all the pieces together and see that I'm wrapped up in this investigation. "I don't want to go to class, either."
"Come back to the house, then," he suggests simply. "We can put a movie on."
We travel the short journey to the soccer house in silence. There isn't much to say at this point and I think we're both just running low on everything. Anyway, understanding of the situation swims between us. There's no need to turn to each other and say how relieved we are that they took it all seriously, because we can literally feel it rolling off each other.
It's like we're in sync.
A few of the soccer guys are milling around downstairs, either working on their laptops, playing on the communal X-box they've got set up on the TV or just goofing off.
I don't really know any of the guys there. I'm closest with Chase, Carlos and Reuben, but there are a few others in my year and the year above that I know, but none of them seem to be around. Not that I really feel like talking to anyone other than Josh right now, anyway.
Josh glances at me, shifting his chin to the stairs, his eyes questioning.
I smile softly, nodding.
He trudges up the stairs and I follow behind him, my mind swimming. It's just hard to believe that everything that's happened today, has actually happened.
I'm also a little confused as to how I'm supposed to feel now we got the result we wanted.
Shouldn't I feel happier than this? Yet, it hasn't really solved the problem. Sure, the guys who did it won't be around anymore, but it still happened and Josh is still living with the consequences. How can you change that?
My head is still spinning as Josh fishes his laptop out of his bag and plops down on the bed, patting the space next to him. "Come here," he murmurs.
I curl up next to him on the bed and let him wrap his arm around me, tucking me into his side. "What are we watching?" I ask sleepily, my lids heavy. Today has really taken its toll.
"Whatever you want," Josh replies, logging on and clicking on Netflix.
When I just nuzzle my face into his neck without replying, he chuckles and selects an episode of Brooklyn Nine-Nine.
"Man after my own heart," I mumble, a small smile tugging at my lips at the sight of Jake Peralta doing something ridiculous.
He shifts his head, dropping a kiss on my hairline. "Thanks for being there today, Nat."
The area he kissed sizzles at the contact and my heart rate picks up ridiculously, because, you know, after all this time of being in pretty close physical proximity to Josh, I still can't control myself. "Glad I could be there for you."
Josh lets out an affectionate laugh. "I think you're always there for me."
"Mm-hmm. Always."
He squeezes me tight, his hand splayed across my hip. "You're the best."
I can feel myself drifting off, despite wanting to watch the episode and also wanting to have this conversation with Josh. "You're the best," I yawn. "Really."
Probably sensing that he's not going to get much more conversation out of me, he just rests his cheek on top of my head and lets out a breath.
One episode runs into another and suddenly, we've watched five in a row. It's so easy when they're only twenty minutes long. Josh texted his boss and asked for tonight off. Thankfully, he's been treated well by his work and is granted the free night.
When we're two minutes into episode six, there's a soft knock on the door.
Josh huffs lightly, but nonetheless shouts for whoever's on the other side of the door to come in.
It turns out to be Chase, holding up a take-out bag. "I heard you guys were here, so I thought I'd grab some food for you. Wasn't sure how you'd feel about the news."
After he'd updated us, Dean Matthews informed us that because it's a public investigation, they would announce the development.
Lifting my head from Josh's shoulder, I beckon our friend to the bed and he perches on the edge, next to me, eyes soft and concerned.
"It's good news," Josh mumbles gruffly. "I just... I can't believe there were five other people."
Chase, ever-understanding, makes a distressed sound in the back of his throat. "I know. It's pretty sickening, isn't it?"
I nod. "Yeah," I reply succinctly, because I don't know what else there is to say to that. He's summed it up pretty well.
I'm not sure I want to talk about it much more, anyway. It all just hurts so much. The fact that the fight isn't over, either, isn't ideal. We're still going to have to go to an investigation and give our testimonies again. That makes me feel a little ill, to be honest.
"So, there's a burger in there each for you and a couple bottles of Coke," he informs us, pushing the bag into my hand.
I manage a grin, diving into the bag and pulling out two separate burger boxes, as well as a couple of packets of fries. He's really gone all out here.
"You're amazing, Chase, thank you so much," I tell him appreciatively.
His eyes dart between the two of us. "It's fine. Just let me know if I can do anything, you know? I... uh, I don't really know how to help, but I want to."
"Thanks, Chase," Josh whispers, voice full of meaning. "We'll let you know."
I reach out and squeeze Chase's arm, smiling, hoping that I can get my appreciation of him across in the right way. "Thank you."
I know all too well what it's like to watch your friends suffering and want to make it better, but feeling completely helpless.
He nods, his mouth curled up at the corners, as he stands up and makes his way out of the room. "Any time."
"You good to eat on the bed?" I turn to Josh, raising my eyebrows. "We can move to a table, or something, if you want."
Josh, true to form, tugs on a lock of my hair. "I'm fine with eating in bed. I'll clean the crumbs and change the sheets later. I don't really want to move."
I let our eye contact last for a few moments too long, but as my heart starts to really kick up into overdrive, I look back down at my burger. "Sounds good."
---
Uh well. My heart:((
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