“But Chris wasn’t my source,” she explained. Her salad had suddenly become her focus, as if she could annihilate it with her gaze. “He’s just how I found out about the hazing.”
She took a bite of shrimp, chewing slowly. Henry had lost interest in his wings. He just stared at her.
“The rumors were running rampant at the time-stories about tying pledges’ hands behind their backs and pushing them down the stairs, or leaving them all alone in one room with a kitten-and no one could come out until the kitten was dead.”
Henry choked on his Diet Coke. “Jesus!”
“For the record, I didn’t see anything like that.” She shrugged. “But there was forced drinking. They’d duct tape them to chairs and put funnels in their mouths. One kid nearly died from alcohol poisoning.”
“You saw this for yourself?” Henry had no real love for the frat he’d pledged anymore, but it was still hard to believe they’d done stuff like that to pledges. “Or someone told you?”
“I saw it,” she insisted, glancing up as the waitress went by, picking up Henry’s empty chili bowl.
“You’re a girl,” Henry observed. “How did you get in?”
She took another bite of her salad, chewing slowly. “Because there was also a lot of sex,” she said finally. “And they hired prostitutes.”
Henry stared, then he gaped. No way. It wasn’t possible. What was she telling him?
“You were a…?”
“No!” Her eyes widened but her face had turned almost as red as her hair. “But I did sign up with the escort service they were rumored to use. And I was there on the last night of Hell Week. That’s when they ‘reward’ the pledges for making it through.”
“They were rewarded with prostitutes?” He remembered his own ‘reward’ night well enough-although he clearly hadn’t had to go through what many of the previous year’s pledges did.
“You pledged.” Libby gazed coolly at him. “Didn’t you get laid out of the deal?”
He cleared his throat. “They did something different this year. Sort of.”
“Really?” Her red eyebrows arched. “What?”
“I’d rather not say,” he mumbled, taking a drink of his soda.
“I don’t blame you.”
He decided to change the subject, although now all he could think of was that night with Val. Had Libby done something like that? “So you didn’t…did you actually participate?”
“No,” Libby denied, but her face was turning even redder. “I mean, I danced and…stuff. But I didn’t sleep with anybody.”
“Chris must have known you weren’t a prostitute.”
“Chris wasn’t there that night. I made sure of that,” she said firmly. Her gaze dropped to the table. “But he found out anyway.”
“How?”
Libby closed her eyes and then lifted her gaze to him. She almost looked like she was going to cry. “Because they videotaped all of it.”
“Oh my god,” he whispered.
“Yeah.” She blinked, glancing toward the door where a couple was coming in to eat. Henry wanted to reach out and touch her, reassure her, but he didn’t know what to say. Then she turned her attention back to him. “Henry, I like you.”
The words made his pulse race.
“And I think you like me.”
If you only knew how much, he thought. He was still at a loss for words.
“And I’m sorry I…” She studied her hands. The fork was on the table now and they were clasped in front of her. “I know you thought I was ignoring you, but you don’t understand.”
When her gaze lifted to his again, her eyes were wet. “If that tape ever got out, and you and I were dating, do you know how long it would be before you’d ever play hockey again? You could easily lose your scholarship.”
He stared into her pretty face and things fell into place. It all made sense now. He’d made up all sorts of reasons and rationalizations in his head, but it didn’t have anything to do with Elaine. Libby had been protecting him. Who has the tape? he wondered. But in his gut, he knew.
“Dean found out I was still investigating Alpha Pi Alpha and he told me he’d release it if I got involved with you,” Libby went on, her words choked.
Henry frowned. “When did he say this?”
“Not long after…” Her eyes skipped away from his. “After that night in the hot tub.”
“Unreal.”
Libby’s lower lip trembled. “He said he’d mail it to the NCAA with an anonymous note. Henry, just one whiff of a player dating an alleged prostitute would put your scholarship in jeopardy. Even if I’d been vindicated-and who knows? I signed up as an escort of my own volition, even if I was a reporter-you wouldn’t have played hockey for a long time.”
Her confession left him speechless. If his roommate had magically appeared in front of him, he would have killed him with his bare hands.
“What in the hell is wrong with him?” he croaked. “Why would he do that?”
“Your fraternity happens to have the largest betting ring on campus running through their house. That was going to be my follow-up story last year, before I got fired. Dean found out that I was still looking into it this year, even though I wasn’t on the paper anymore, and he didn’t want that to happen. He wanted something to hold over my head, so I wouldn’t tell anyone.”
“Because Dean’s gambling.” That much Henry knew. “He keeps borrowing money from me.”
Libby made a face. “How much?”
“Five hundred.” That didn’t include the five-hundred Dean wanted him to borrow from Toni-that he’d been willing to blackmail his own roommate to get his hands on.
Libby sighed. “He’s in for a lot more than that.”
“He’s sick.” Henry felt helpess. What could they do? They had to do something. And he hadn’t even told Libby about Dean’s plans to throw the game!
“You have no idea.” Libby looked down at her hands again. “Henry, Dean raped Elaine. That night in the hot tub, after I left…?” Her voice dipped low, became choked. “I never should have left…”
“Oh my god.” It took Henry a few seconds to make his frozen limbs move, but then he was over on her side of the booth, putting his arms around her. “I’m so sorry, Libby.”
“She told me last night.” Libby buried her face in Henry’s neck. “I tried to get her to report it, but she won’t.”
Henry’s jaw clenched. “I’m gonna kill him.”
“No,” she said vehemently, gripping his arm. “Don’t do it. He’s not worth it. I want you to stay away from him if you can. Ask housing if you can switch rooms. Just…don’t have anything more to do with him. That’s the best we can do.”
“But he’s going to throw the game,” Henry confessed. He’d been sitting with the knowledge, unsure what to do, who to tell, but it seemed natural to share it with her now. “This weekend against Eastern Michigan. He’s got it all set up. It’s as good as done.”
“Oh no!” Libby pulled back, staring at him, this new information making her eyes widen. “We can’t let that happen.”
Henry dug into his pocket, finding his ringing cell, and saw the number. Val. Not now. He let it go to message.
“Henry!” Libby grabbed his forearm. His phone made a sound, letting him know he had a message. “If he succeeds, it isn’t just his life he’s ruining. We’re talking about coaches and players and other people’s lives.”
“Yeah.” He was well aware of the consequences, but how could he tell someone when he didn’t have proof? And the backlash, if Dean found out he’d betrayed him…Henry didn’t want to think about it. “I know.”
His phone rang. Again. It was Val. Again. He flipped it open. “Hello?”
Val was talking so fast and so soft he could barely understand her. “Slow down,” he urged. “Say it again.”
“Your roommate is in big trouble,” Val hissed. “Marcus isn’t waiting for his money. They’re coming for him tonight.”
Henry sat up straight. “Tonight?”
Libby watched, eyes wide, as Val continued to whisper her warning.
“You need to get him out of there. Now.”
He opened his mouth to reply, but she was already whispering, “I’ve got to go.”