This is a short story I wrote for my Fiction Writing class my freshman year in college. We had to write two short stories, then revise one of them significantly to turn in as our final short story. This is the one I revised (I didn't like the other one). I think it turned out fairly well. If you feel like it, please let me know what you think, either by emailing me at rmandril@rocketmail.com or by signing my guestbook. Enjoy! :-)

Disclaimer: The plot and all characters in this story belong to me, Aimee Green. Please do not steal any of it.

Rating: PG13, for some language and the idea behind the plot.

Written: May 5, 1999

Surrounded by boxes, Joseph West opened his bottom desk drawer, the last drawer he had to go through before he was finished. When this drawer was finished, everything would be packed, and he could leave. The end of the year had finally arrived and he could go home. As he picked up a stack of papers, he froze when he saw what was underneath them.

It was a photograph inside a shiny gold-rimmed frame. Joe stared at the picture. He'd forgotten about it, and it was a shock to come across it suddenly like this. The photograph was one that Joe himself had taken. It featured a young woman sitting under a tree, smiling slightly at the camera. Her long blond hair shone under the sunlight filtering through the leaves of the tree. Joe couldn't tear his eyes away from it. He remembered every detail of her face clearly, the sound of her voice, even though he hadn't seen her for almost six months. He shook his head, knowing that Lorna was someone he could never be with.

Joe knew he would always remember the day he met Lorna. Every minute detail of the day was imprinted on his mind like an image burned onto the T-Max 400 film he always kept with him.

He had been at school for a little more than a month and was wandering around the campus, camera in hand. He hoped to find something interesting going on that he could photograph – he assumed there was always some kind of activity happening on a university campus.

It was a gorgeous day, 75 degrees and a seemingly endless blue sky overhead. Students were outside in droves, concentrated mostly on the grassy hill in the middle of campus, known fondly as the grassy knoll. Brightly colored clothing dotted the lush greenery of the campus. They sat on the grass and under trees, most studying, some just talking. On the other side of the grassy knoll ran a small creek, the sound of its running water audible amid the laughter and conversation. It twisted through the center of campus and was called the Little Nile, although Joe didn't know why it was called that. The path Joe was on led to a small footbridge providing access to the other side of the creek. He thought to himself that if he couldn't find anything happening on this side of the knoll, then he might head over to the Little Nile.

And then he saw her – the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen. She sat by herself on the grass about 15 feet away, her legs folded beneath her. She held a book in her hand and the gentle breeze lightly ruffled her long blond hair as she read.

Joe slowly lifted his camera. Without even thinking, he focused in on her and snapped picture. There, he had her, frozen in that spot forever in the black and white world of his trusty camera. At that moment, she looked up and met his eyes. He froze, suddenly unable to breathe.

"Did you just take a picture of me?" she asked him, raising an eyebrow quizzically.

"I, uh . . . Yeah." He gave her a sheepish a lopsided grin and moved closer. He held up his camera with his right hand. "I'm sort of a photographer."

She smiled. "What do you photograph?"

He shrugged and ran a hand nervously through his dark hair. "Oh, stuff . . . People. Buildings. Whatever looks interesting." He shrugged again, then gathered his courage and closed the rest of the distance between them. "I'm Joe West," he said, holding out his hand.

She stood and grasped his hand. She only came up to his shoulders, small and petite. Joe noticed for the first time that she had brown eyes. Blond hair and brown eyes, that was a rarity. Her hand was soft and strong as she shook his. "Nice to meet you, Joe West. I'm Lorna Chesser." She smiled up at him, and that was the moment Joe fell in love with her.

Joe's roommate was an athlete of sorts: tall, muscular, outgoing, just about everything that Joe wasn't. Despite their differences, Joe and Scott Williamson quickly became good friends. Joe was one of the few on campus that knew Scott wasn't as dumb as he pretended he was. In their room, when no one was around, Scott would sit at his desk and crack down on his calculus homework. Or sometimes, late at night when he wasn't out partying, he would take out a book and read, just for the sake of reading. For reasons known only to him, he didn't want anybody to know of these activities, and Joe had sworn his silence.

After his first meeting with Lorna, Joe lay sprawled across his navy blue comforter, smiling dreamily. Scott burst in suddenly, throwing his book bag onto his desk with a thud. He stopped and watched Joe for a moment, his hands on his hips.

"Hey man," he said to Joe. "They're getting a killer game of Ultimate Frisbee going out on the knoll. Wanna come?"

Joe shook his head. "Nah, that's okay. I'll pass."

Scott strode over and stood next to Joe's bed. "Come on. Why would you want to stay in here when you could be out there getting dirty and sweaty?" He gestured toward the sunlit window with a wide sweep of his arm.

"No, you go ahead."

Scott peered into Joe's face. "What are you doing, anyway? Taking a nap with your eyes open?"

Joe grinned, then pushed himself up onto one elbow and looked at Scott. "Scott, do you believe in love at first sight?"

Scott raised an eyebrow. "I guess so. Why?"

"Because I think I'm in love," Joe said, sitting up all the way.

Scott's eyebrow lifted higher. "Really? That was fast. You're sure it's not just indigestion?" He chuckled at his own joke.

Joe chose to ignore it. "I met her this morning. Her name is Lorna Chesser." He paused when Scott suddenly froze. "What?"

"Lorna Chesser?" he asked quietly. "Joe, you don't want her. Trust me."

A flash of anger flared up inside Joe. He stood and faced Scott. "What are you talking about?"

Scott shook his head. "Just trust me on this one. I went to high school with her. She's a little messed up in the head, if you know what I mean."

Joe scowled. "She seemed perfectly normal to me!" He didn't know why he felt so defensive and angry – he hardly knew the girl, after all. There was just something about her. He didn't know what. However, he did know that if there had been anything seriously wrong with Lorna, he would have been able to tell. He liked to think that he was a pretty good judge of character. He shook his head. "No, Scott. You're wrong."

Scott shrugged. "Whatever, man. Your call. Just don't say I didn't warn you." He walked to his desk, grabbed a black Nike hat, and pulled it on over his sandy brown hair with a short tug. His blue eyes stared deliberately at Joe. "I'm outta here," he said, with a shake of his head. Joe heard him muttering "Lorna Chesser" under his breath, and then he was gone.

Joe stood for a moment in the middle of the room, looking down at a slip of paper he'd forgotten he'd been holding. It was just a torn piece of notebook paper with a few number written on it in purple ink. He looked at his watch. It had been about five hours. That was long enough. He smiled to himself and picked up the phone, his conversation with Scott already pushed to the back of his mind.

Lorna provided for Joe just the companionship that he needed. Although she had no romantic interest in him – that he knew of, anyway – Joe enjoyed spending time with her, just hanging out and talking. He still hoped that she would become interested in him as more than a friend, but he could wait for as long as it took her to come around. In the meantime, she was his confidante and they spent hours sitting under an oak tree growing next to the Little Nile, talking and listening to the musical sound of water running gently over stones.

Although had never been an extremely outgoing person, he found himself doing a lot of talking when he was Lorna. He talked, and she listened. What he found strange was that Lorna never seemed to want to talk about her past. She usually shrugged and abruptly changed the subject whenever Joe asked her something too personal. She seemed to like to talk to him, as long as they talked about ‘safe' topics, such as school or the weather. She almost never volunteered information about herself. Sometimes she seemed really sad, but Joe never asked her about it. Every once in a while, an image of Scott warning him of Lorna would come to mind, but he quickly brushed it away. He did wonder, though, why she never came to Joe's room. He had tried a few times and she always wanted to go somewhere else. He found himself wondering if maybe it had something to do with Scott, but he didn't ask her.

One day about two months after he met her, Lorna finally broke her silence. They were sitting in their usual spot along the Nile, trying to ignore the fact that winter was definitely on its way and the days were getting colder. Lorna sat with her knees pulled up to her chin, covering her legs with the green jacket she was wearing. Although her eyes were closed, Joe knew she was listening to what he was saying. He watched her while talking about Halloween coming up in a few weeks.

"My dad used to hide up in the tree by our front door on Halloween and act like he was a dummy," he told her, grinning. "When kids came to the house, he'd jump down and scare them. It was the funniest thing. I used to sit at the window and watch him do it. Sometimes my brother Mark would go out and sit there with him."

Lorna smiled sadly. "I wish that my family was like that. I never had any brothers or sisters, and my parents were never there anyway."

Joe leaned toward her, interested. This was the most information she'd ever volunteered. "What did you parents do for a living?"

She shrugged. "As much as possible so they wouldn't have to deal with me. I just didn't fit into their plans," she said bitterly. "They just carted me around from babysitter to babysitter when I was little. And when I was older, they made me go to this shrinkbecause they thought something was wrong with me and they couldn't be bothered to talk to me themselves. Not even after . . ." She stopped and stared at the ground, biting her lower lip.

"After what?" Joe asked. "Did something happen to you?" He knew he was pushing it by asking her. She didn't like questions and she might just shut him out completely. But he really wanted to know, so he asked. Again, Scott's warning came to mind.

She looked at him, her eyes suddenly brimming with tears. "Yes, something did happen to me."

Joe moved closer to her and wrapped his arm around her shoulder. "What? You can tell me."

She lifted a hand and swiped angrily at the tears. "I can't." She shook her head and stared at the ground.

Joe backed off. "Alright. You don't have to tell me." They sat in silence for a few minutes. Joe watched the water of the Little Nile flowing by, swirling in circles against the edges. He wondered absently how cold it was. He was about to reach over and stick his hand in the water when Lorna spoke again.

"You promise not to tell anyone?" she asked, looking at him with her eyes wide.

"Of course."

She opened her mouth to speak, then shut it again, considering. Then she said, "I was raped my junior year of high school." She covered her face with one hand. Joe stared at her in shock, his eyebrows almost up to his hairline.

"Oh wow," he breathed, feeling slightly embarrassed. "I'm sorry. Was it . . . was it someone you knew?"

She nodded, hiding her face in her hands.

"Is he in jail?" Joe asked her.

She shook her head. "No. He never even got convicted for it. My parents didn't even care! The entire town didn't care. And he's here, on this campus, walking free."

Joe's eyes widened. "He is? Who is it?"

Lorna shook her head. "No, I can't tell you that. You know him."

"Lorna! Whoever it is needs to go to jail for it! He shouldn't be out just walking around!" He took her hands and gently pulled them away from her face, forcing her to look at him. Tears spilled down her cheeks.

"Joe," she started, then paused. She swallowed. "It was Scott, Joe. Your roommate."

He sat back abruptly, feeling the blood draining from his face. He felt like he had just been hit in the stomach by a freight train. "Scott? You're kidding, aren't you? You're just pulling my leg."

She sniffled and shook her head. "No, I'm not. It was Scott."

"Holy shit," he muttered under his breath. He rubbed his forehead anxiously. "But I don't . . . How did it happen?"

"He never told you about us, did he?" Joe shook his head and she continued. "I dated him a little bit our junior year. It was great at first, but then he wanted something more than just a relationship. And he wouldn't take no for an answer. It's as simple as that." She leaned back on her arms, resigned.

"I can't believe it," he said softly, staring at the ground, but not seeing it. Scott, a rapist? He thought he'd gotten to know Scott pretty well, but obviously he'd been wrong. He'd thought that Scott was mostly a nice guy. He had a slight temper sometimes, but so did everybody. Joe couldn't believe that he'd do something like this. Anger and disappointment flooded through him. "Why isn't he in jail?" he asked Lorna.

She stared at the creek blankly. "There was a trial. His word against mine. They believed him and sent me back to my therapist." She looked at him sharply. "But I'm over it now. Please don't start anything."

Joe closed his eyes, balling his right hand into a fist at his side. "I'm sorry. I can't promise anything."