Sarah Mlynowski - Monkey Business

“Haven’t told her yet.”

Glenda passes me a new bottle and I take a long sip. I don’t even like the taste of beer. “That might be something you’d want to consider letting her know,” I say.

Russ starts laughing and can’t stop. He drops his head onto the table and bangs it against the Formica. “I’m so fucking scared. I might get expelled and I’m going to be a father. I’m not ready to be a father. I can’t even floss properly. How am I going to be a father?”

Instead of feeling sorry for him, I feel envious. I wish the right thing to do in my life was so obvious. I wish I were the one becoming a father. He has everything and I have nothing.

“Once a night before bed and dig into those gums,” I offer.

Monday, April 12, 8:54 a.m.

My nipples are frozen. It’s so cold in here. Where is Russ? I’m sitting on a wooden bench outside the disciplinary committee boardroom in the Katz building, wearing my blue interview suit. At least it’s good for something.

He’s late. Surprise, surprise. I knocked on his door, but he didn’t answer. I assumed he’d already left. Although why he’d leave without me, I don’t know. I don’t know what the hell has happened to him in the last twenty-four hours. Yesterday he didn’t even come over. Called to tell me he wasn’t feeling well. Asked if he could borrow my laptop. Said his was broken and he wanted to finish an assignment. Hope he didn’t stay up too late. Hope he doesn’t sleep through this meeting. That would essentially be academic suicide. He has to be here in person to plead his case. He still has a few minutes if I go in first. Apparently we have to go in separately.

The clock above the hallway says eight fifty-eight. He has two minutes. Maybe I should have knocked harder. Louder. Tried calling. If he doesn’t show up, it will be entirely my fault. I’d better call him. I whip out my cell and am about to dial his number, when Russ appears in front of me.

“Kimmy,” he says. “I have to tell you something.” Even though he has thick bags under his eyes, he looks calm, like he’s just had a smoke, or a bath. (Do men take baths? I long for a bath. The sublet I got for the summer has a bathtub. Probably not a great one, considering it’s in Manhattan, but still a bath is a bath.)

I can’t tell if he has good or bad news. “What is it?”

He takes a deep breath and squeezes my hand.

“Russ?” The door opens and a second-year student who always reminds me of Bart Simpson because of his spiky blond hair, pokes his cartoon head into the hallway. “We’re ready for you.”

My heart plummets right down to my work pumps. “Good luck,” I say.

He kisses me on the forehead and disappears inside.

We’ve rehearsed our stories. We’re going to say that we talked about the assignment, but then each wrote our own report. They might buy it. I compared Russ’s to mine and they aren’t exactly the same. Pretty much, but not identical. I think we can get away with it. And if not? We’ll take the course again. Not a big deal. There’s no way they’ll expel us both. Even if we lose the O’Donnel jobs, it’s not the end of the world. We’ll still be together. Sure, I think I’d like working in strategy, but I’ll get another job eventually. What matters is that Russ and I stay strong and together.

I wish I could hear what’s going on inside. Would it look weird if I put my ear against the wall?

Ten minutes later, the door opens, and Russ kisses me on the forehead again. “How’d it go?” I ask.

“Perfectly.”

“Good.” I stand up and straighten out my suit. “My turn, then?”

“Yes.” He uses his fingers to brush my hair away from my face. “I hope you can understand,” he says.

“What? Understand what?” What’s he talking about?

“Try not to be pissed at me. I’ll meet you at the Zoo after, okay?”

Bart pops his head out. “Kimmy, we’re ready for you.”

I want to ask Russ what he’s talking about, but he’s already halfway down the hall. I have a bad feeling about this. What is he sorry about? What did he do? Did he-did he tell them I copied from him? No. No way. He wouldn’t do that to me, would he? Maybe he would. Business school was always his dream. Maybe he decided that he deserved it more than I do. That I couldn’t care less about being here and that it wasn’t fair.

He’s right. He does deserve it more than I do. I only came to school to meet a guy. And I did. Maybe I owe it to him. I love him and I owe him that. So if that’s what Russ said, I’ll back him up.

The dean, Professor Martin, Bart and another student are sitting behind a long desk. I feel like I’m standing before the Supreme Court. The dean does look like The Hulk, as Russ once described. The other student, a second-year redhead, looks familiar, too. Bart introduces me and tells me to have a seat. I try to calm my shaking hands.

The dean clears his throat. “Thank you for coming, Kimberly. After speaking with Russ, it’s come to our attention that you-”

Plagiarized his work?

“-are not to blame for this situation and are excused. I will advise, however, that in the future, should a situation like this come up again, you report to the authorities immediately. Thank you for coming in today, but we will no longer be needing your testimony.”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re dismissed.”

Dismissed from school? He’s smiling at me, so I don’t think so. Professor Martin is giving me a thumbs-up.

I nod and back out of the room, unable to wipe the smile off my face. What did Russ say to get us off the hook? How did he do it? I run back to the Zoo and knock on his door. When he answers, I throw my arms around his neck. “I can’t believe you did it. You are a superhero.”

He squeezes me tightly and then pulls away. His eyes are rimmed with red.

“What’s wrong?” I ask. “Aren’t you relieved? We’re off the hook! What did you tell them?”

“I told them that I borrowed a printed version of your assignment without your knowledge and then copied it.”

I don’t believe it. That is so sweet. I love him. He must love me if he sacrificed himself for me. “But what happens to you now?”

He pats my hair. “I’m not coming back to LWBS next year.”

The wind is knocked out of me. “What? You got expelled?”

“No. I’m going to fail Corporate Strategy, but I didn’t get expelled. I’ve decided not to come back next year. I’m going home.”

What is he talking about? I back away from him and balance myself against the door. “What about O’Donnel? What about our sublet?” What about me?

“I can’t take the job in New York.”

“Yes, you can. Of course you can! They didn’t expel you. Don’t be crazy.”

“Sharon’s pregnant.”

The room starts to spin.

“And I have to go back to Toronto to be with her. To be there for her.”

“And where does that leave us?” I ask, my voice soaked with tears.

He hugs me again and I let him. “I’m sorry,” he says. His voice is soft and sad. “I have to go back. It’s the right thing to do.”

I can hear his heart beating against my tear-streaked cheek. I reach up and kiss his neck. And then his cheek and his lips and then he stops me.

“I can’t,” he says, looking into my eyes.

I try to swallow the lump in my throat. “How do you know she’ll even take you back?”

“I don’t,” he says. “But I have to try.”

I hate this place. I’m lying in bed, covers drawn over my head, crying my eyes out like a two-year-old. What the hell just happened? She totally planned this. She wanted to get pregnant so she could steal him away from me. This is so not fair. Not fair. What did she do, stop talking her pills?