The Endangered Read Free Page B

Jeff smiles, eyes glazed. Clearly he’d passed the relaxation point a few joints back.
    “Well I’m getting a contact high down the hall and it’s making me sleepy. Which would be welcome if I didn’t have an economics exam to cram for.”
    “Want a Red Bull?”
    “Nah, I’m going to hit up Thirsty’s.”
    “Okay cool. Good luck with the studies.”
    “Yeah, same.”
    I start down the steps.
    “Hey Lori,” he calls after me.
    “Sup?”
    “You okay? I mean after—uh…”
    I nod.
    “All good, Jeff, thanks.”
    “You uh—talk to Rachel?”
    Again, I nod.
    Figuring I should offer up more, I add, “She’s fine. She’s freaked, but she’s fine.”
    “Well just know we’ve got your back. Sasha, Kylie…even Brett. He told me he totally buys your story, he’s seen how that creep—Anthony, right?—how he treats women. I bet you can get him to testify for you as a character witness or something if the, like, charges and shit stick.”
    “Thanks, but he’s a brother; he’s not going to betray his fraternity. But your support and all—it means a lot.”
    I force an appreciative smile. 
    He nods and disappears back into the haze of his room.
    ***
    Thirsty’s is a little pub near campus. It is one of many local watering holes in Greenwich Village. The only reason this bar is open on a weekday afternoon is the modest lunch crowd it draws from the school and the local shop owners. Their food is good and reasonable and they don’t need a website to promote it. By two the crowd has thinned to a few stragglers and will remain dead till happy hour.
    Greg stands at the far end of the bar hunched over a book. His only customer sits at the opposite end, closer to the entrance, ignoring the full beer in front of him, pretending to care about whatever is on Sports Center.
    Greg unglues himself from his book when he spots me.
    “Hey, Lori, how’s it going?”
    “Eh, okay.” I gesture to my backpack. “Exam tomorrow. Mind if I grab a table in the back? Too many distractions at home.”
    “Don’t mind at all. This time of day it’s quieter than a church in here.”
    “What are you reading?” I ask.
    Greg is a fifth-year senior. Art history major, I think. He’d changed majors a lot. It was tough to keep track.
    “Roman history. I have an exam Friday and I just opened the book for the first time last night. Tried to get some studying in before my shift, but I swear there were more drunks at the library than here. Either drunk or delirious from sleep deprivation.”
    “Yeah, half the students bring flasks and spend their time socializing. Makes it hard to be productive.”
    “Why bring the bar to the books when you can bring the books to the bar, right?” He flashes me a wide smile.
    He has a warm, handsome smile. He probably does really well with the ladies. I find myself wondering why I don’t find him attractive. Maybe too cookie-cutter. He has that generic clean-cut look that makes him hard to pick out of a lineup.
    I laugh harder than I should.
    “On that note, I’ll just take water for now. And some coffee if you have it.”
    “No problem. I’ll put a fresh pot on.”
    A few hours and a few cups of coffee later I have a better handle on economics. Not enough to ace the exam, but enough to know I won't bomb.
    People start to trickle into the bar and I don’t want to hog the table much longer.
    “Study break? It is happy hour.”
    Greg places a beer on my table and shoots me the same big grin.
    “You read my mind.”
    More patrons come in and he returns to the bar. I resume flipping through pages, now with a beer in one hand.
    “Well look who it is.”
    The arrogant voice is aimed in my direction but is easily ignored.
    “Lori Black.”
    The voice is closer now, and I look up at the mention of my name.
    “I know you?”
    Three guys approach my table. The one running his mouth is flanked by two of his friends.
    They all look athletic and wear some version of NYU branded Under