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  Cara wondered if there would be an apology or some reassurance or even some moralizing or warning speech. But she supposed she was one of hundreds of individuals facing the magistrate that late evening—early morning?—so it made sense for her to be pushed along assembly-line style.

  She didn’t second-guess any of it, just made her way out. There was an officer sitting at a desk next to the metal detector by the front entrance. Cara approached and timidly said, “Hi?”

  He turned to face her. “Yes, ma’am?”

  “They just said I was released on my own recognizance.”

  The officer nodded. “Any charges?”

  “No.”

  “Future hearing?”

  “No.”

  “Then what is your question, ma’am?”

  “Do I need to fill out any papers or anything?”

  “No, ma’am. Unless a warrant is issued by the magistrate judge or an indictment is issued against you by a grand jury sitting in a Virginia Circuit Court, you are not under arrest or obliged to reappear.”

  “Okay. So I’m really free to go?”

  “If the magistrate said so, yes.”

  “How often does this happen? These mass arrests, with the judge Skyping in and passing judgment like something on The Jetsons?”

  The officer concealed a laugh. “This is the first time I’ve seen it, though it’s acceptable legal practice for a judicial representative to appear by remote video feed.”

  “So if I’m ever at a party again, I’m gonna get arrested?”

  He shook his head. “This was a political stunt. Completely off the record, but the new chief of police needed to make a show of strength against a large unruly student gathering. This hasn’t happened in decades and isn’t likely to happen for another few decades.”

  Kara played dumb. “I’m new here, so…the police aren’t usually this aggressive?”

  “No, we’re quite progressive and community-minded here.”

  “What about those girls who got attacked for buying water bottles?”

  The officer nodded. “Those were ABC agents. State-level. Not the city or county police.”

  Kara stopped playing dumb. “What about tear-gassing that crowd at the KKK rally?”

  The officer sighed. “The official record says a protester pepper-sprayed an officer, and the tear gas was done to disperse the escalating crowd.”

  “Were you there that day?”

  “I was.”

  “Did you see the pepper spray?”

  “No.” He paused. “That’s a dark episode in our local police history. We’re still recovering from it.”

  “Gotcha. Okay. Thanks. This has been very surreal.”

  “I apologize for any unpleasantness. Hope you have a nice day, ma’am.”

  “Thank you.”

  Finally an apology! That was all she’d wanted. She walked out of the courthouse building, out into the street. She had no idea where she was. These were alien streets to her.

  The sun was starting to rise. She was exhausted. She got out her phone and was almost tempted to use Uber to get a lift home. But she wasn’t exhausted enough. She plugged Christie’s address into her map app and let it guide her there.

  She could barely see straight by the time she got to the apartment. It was unlocked, of course.

  She didn’t know if Christie was there, and she didn’t care. She made it to the living room couch and collapsed.

  She dreamed of cheeseburgers.

  Chapter 16

  She woke up around noon and decided to make her dreams come true.

  She went to the bathroom, googled “best cheeseburger in Charlottesville,” and looked up the address for the top-rated result: Five Guys. She recognized the name, thought she might have seen it around her hometown, but never ate there.

  She left the bathroom. Her flush awakened Christie, who made her way sluggishly out of her small bedroom.

  “Oh hey, Cara,” she said. “Did you have fun last night?”

  Cara wanted to yell at Christie, or give her the cold shoulder. Christie had pushed her into going out, abandoned her in the middle of a frat party, apparently hadn’t even noticed that she hadn’t come home. Cara was furious at her. But then she thought about all the helpful, nurturing things Christie said yesterday. Cara couldn’t stay mad at her. She realized Christie was far from perfect. Not everyone could be all things to her at all times.

  So she said, “Yeah, tons.”

  “It was epic. I’ve never seen Midsummers get so out of control. I heard the cops got called, too.”

  “Yup, I heard that.”

  “Wild. So did you do the walk of shame this morning?”

  “Huh?”

  “Did you get laid? Then have to walk here from his place back to here when you woke up?”

  “No!”

  “Some folks call it the ‘stride of pride.’ Whatever you prefer.”

  “Sorry to report I didn’t get laid.”

  “Ah, your loss. I had a blast. Met a great guy.” Christie rubbed her eyes. “I’m gonna make myself a smoothie. You want one?”

  Cara looked down at her phone, stared at the mouth-watering photo of the double-patty burger and cup full of fries.

  “No, thank you. I have to go.”

  Chapter 17

  Cara sat at the long cafeteria-style table on the main floor of Newcomb, where a variety of restaurants set up shop. Restaurants such as Chick-fil-A, Subway, and…

  Five Guys.

  She looked at the brown paper bag in front of her and the tall white cup next to it with the Five Guys logo on it.

  She had no idea how many calories were in that bag. It was heavy.

  She’d ordered a “little” fries, but they filled up a cup with fried potatoes and added an additional scoop. Made their “little” look bigger than one of those old “super-size” fries McDonald’s sold when she was young.

  The burger was a brick. She grunted as she pulled the silver foil-wrapped delicacy out from under the barrage of fries in the bag.

  And most shockingly—she got a regular sugar soda in her cup, instead of a diet.

  This was a staggering amount of food.

  But she hadn’t eaten since the previous night.

  But this was probably way more than 1500 calories, all in one meal.

  It occurred to her that she could look it up online to estimate how many calories were sitting in front of her.

  She licked her lips. She was nearly shaking with excitement for this meal. But also afraid that she wouldn’t let herself keep it down.

  She wondered where the nearest bathroom was located.

  Then she saw a familiar face wander into the cafeteria.

  Bill!

  “Hey!” she said, waving him over.

  He waved back, walked over to her table.

  “Please sit!” she said.

  He nodded and sat. “What are you still doing here?” he asked.

  “I could ask you the same thing,” she said.

  He smiled, looked to the side, shrugged. “I think I might want to join that frat, after all. They’re awesome. I never had so much fun.”

  “You didn’t get arrested?”

  “No, no. The cops swept up a few people just to make a show of force, then they went off to the station with their tails between their legs.”

  “No tear gas this time.”

  “None.”

  “Weren’t people scared?”

  “I guess the ones near the cops were, yeah. We just watched it happen from the windows of the house.”

  “It didn’t stop the event?”

  “You can’t kill a party like that. It went on ’til the break of dawn.”

  Cara shook her head. “That’s dedication there.”

  “Yeah. When’d you go home?”

  “At the break of dawn.”

  “Nice, so you stayed for the whole thing?”


  “No, I was at the police station. I spent the whole time in a legal gray area.”

  “What? They arrested you?”

  “Not exactly. There were no charges. I was set free.”

  Bill shook her head. “I’m guessing you were sober.”

  “Yep.”

  “And they held you that long?”

  “Yep.”

  “Sorry to hear that. You’re probably pretty soured on this place, huh?”

  Cara thought it over.

  “Some things were clarified here. Some things could have gone better. But it’s been an experience.”

  He nodded. “Not to leave you midconvo, but I’m pretty hungry. You cool if I go get some lunch?”

  “You can share mine!”

  “Really?”

  “Sure!”

  She felt a strong sense of relief at this idea, as it meant she wouldn’t be downing everything in this bag herself. She might be able to live with herself if she only ate half of it.

  She ripped open the bag and turned it into a makeshift tray. A puff of steam rose up as the fresh fries were exposed.

  Bill smiled. “Won’t turn that down!”

  Cara unwrapped the thick monster of a sandwich, split it in half. Toppings melted out of the middle and around the edges. She’d ordered it “All the Way,” which meant it had everything. She figured if you order the best burger in town, you go big with it. She handed Bill his half, and they each cheerfully devoured their burgers, alternating with handfuls of fries.

  It was spectacular. Every bite was greasy glory.

  She shared her drink with him, as well.

  After the food was demolished, she went back to the counter to refill it and drank most of the second cup herself.

  They wiped their hands with the stack of napkins they’d been provided.

  Bill sat back. “That hit the spot. Looks like I’ll have to pay a visit to The Gym this afternoon.”

  Cara almost responded, then realized…she didn’t have to go out and exercise if she didn’t want to. She had no idea how many calories she’d just eaten.

  And she was okay.

  She didn’t have to purge them. Bill didn’t care about what she had just eaten. Why should she?

  She thought about Lawrence. Would he care about what she just ate? If he did, why should she care that he cared?

  “So, are you staying?” Bill asked.

  “Huh?”

  “You’re still here. So are you just gonna stay in town here until classes start in a couple months?”

  Cara laughed. “Yeah, I should probably call my parents; they must be so worried.”

  “Sounds good. I gotta head home myself.”

  “You have the shorter commute.”

  “Yep, just a bus ride away. Been nice to hang with you.”

  “And you, too.”

  Bill tapped the table, headed out.

  Cara watched him leave. She felt like she was seeing him for the first time. He was hot. By any standard. He was thickly muscled, perfect hair, confident walk. He was just really nice. He never once flirted with her; he’d been totally friendly. She wondered if being in a frat would crush the goodness out of him. Or maybe he’d surprise her. Maybe he would stay cool. Maybe frat boys weren’t so bad, after all. Time would tell.

  She wiped her hands with napkins again to get the last of the grease and salt off before touching her phone. She then called her mother.

  “Hey, Mom, sorry it’s so late in the day. I got caught up in some…college stuff.”

  “Oh, right. Yes. We’re picking you up today.”

  “Don’t sound too concerned there.”

  “Sorry, sorry. We just got home from the hospital. Your brother’s in bed now. We stopped to pick up his prescription on the way home. Took an hour and a half. He was screaming in the car. In a lot more pain than we expected. The surgical anesthetic wore off, and…never mind, we’ll be down there in a bit. Are you ready to leave?”

  Cara looked around at the dining area. She felt the sensation of being full and happy. Knowing she was going to allow herself to stay this way. Knowing she wasn’t going to sneak off to the nearest bathroom. Knowing she didn’t need to do that again. Afraid she might. But feeling hopeful.

  “Yes, I’m ready.”

  She gave her mom Christie’s address, went back there to change her clothes and pack her bag.

  Chapter 18

  Christie was back in bed when Cara got back to the apartment. Cara didn’t wake her.

  Maybe she’d see her again, maybe not. Some people seemed to just drop into your life, shift your point of view, and fade away.

  Likewise, Cara didn’t really care if she saw Bri again. She didn’t smoke dope, so there was a major life interest they would—hopefully—never have in common. While she was outside waiting for her mother to show, her phone buzzed and told her she had a Facebook notification. Bri wanted to be friends.

  Sure, why not?

  Her mom was on the phone with her dad when she arrived, and her mom didn’t hang up until they were on route 29, well outside Charlottesville.

  “So, did you have fun?”

  “Sure did.”

  “Anything interesting happen?”

  Cara thought about her epic tour, her binging and purging, her long conversations with Bill, her Midsummers party, getting sort of arrested, and pigging out at Five Guys.

  “Nothing too big. Just college things.”

  “Good, good. Sorry about that long call. Your father had to stay home from work to take care of your brother. He’s in a lot of pain right now.”

  “Can’t say he doesn’t deserve it.”

  “Don’t say that to his face, please. He loves you a lot.”

  “I know, I know.”

  “So, are you looking forward to school?”

  “I am.”

  “All set up with your classes? Know your way around?”

  “Yeah, I explored a bit.”

  “Did Lawrence miss you?”

  Cara just realized he hadn’t called or texted her once. Not that she really wanted him to. She didn’t want to date a stalker or someone super-needy. But it was odd she hadn’t come home yesterday as scheduled and was out of contact for so long. He never once checked in on her. Did he not care? If not, did she care that he didn’t care?

  She was due to give that relationship some serious thought.

  “Probably, yeah.”

  “So what was your favorite part about the campus?”

  “It’s Grounds, not campus,” Cara said.

  “Well, excuse me!”

  “I really liked the Special Collections Library.”

  “The what?”

  “It’s where they keep all their rare stuff.”

  “Oh, that’s nice. So—”

  “Mom, do you mind if I just take a little nap?”

  “Ah, didn’t sleep much last night, did you? Did you go to a party? Should I be worried?”

  “No, don’t worry. I’m fine. Just tired.”

  “That’s fine, dear. Go ahead and rest.”

  “Thanks.”

  Cara leaned her head against the window, watched as the strip malls and gas stations gave way to farms and country homes. They seemed to get stopped by every red light. But she liked the view, so she didn’t mind the delay.

  As she drifted off, she realized she was truly looking forward to returning.

  She was not likely to go to any parties—or even be adjacent to any parties—but she wanted to see everything at the libraries, learn everything there was to learn, immerse herself everywhere. She wanted to explore all the nooks and crannies of every building. She wanted to dig into her mind, figure out what was going on up there, and rebuild herself on her own terms. She wanted to work through her issues on her own time. She wanted to overcome and then take others under her wing, just the way Christie had. She wanted to visit every great restaurant in town
and actually keep down the food there. She wanted to eat like a normal human being. She wanted to stop second-guessing everything.

  And she was pretty sure she wanted to break up with Lawrence. He didn’t even want to be Facebook-official. She should have seen the writing on the wall there long ago.

  She opened up her backpack, pulled out the orange folder with the University logo on it. She felt warmth at the sight.

  Yeah, she’d probably never drink like her school’s aquatic mascot.

  But she was a Wahoo at heart.

  The End

  After Words

  This started life as an epic monster story.

  Then I decided that eating disorders were scarier than any monster.

  Wahoo thus mutated into a nuanced love letter to my college. I went to school at UVA, and it was an interesting time. I didn’t have much of a typical college experience. I was married and Mormon and could count the number of parties I attended on one hand. If that hand lost two fingers to a firecracker accident.

  But the place always fascinated me. And I stayed in town after graduation. They don’t call it The Hook for nothin’—you can try to leave, but the place hooks ya! UVA came to fascinate me more and more over the years as I continued to learn about the place and the people.

  A handful of movies have been shot in this area, and we have many local writers—John Grisham, Ann Beattie, Rita Mae Brown, Andy Deane, S. A. Hunter, and others. But it feels like no one’s accurately captured the feel of “The University.” Whole lotta nonfiction written about it, some of which later proved to be fiction. But no for-real fiction.

  So, I wrote the book I wanted to read. Hope you enjoyed it.

  And as far as eating disorders, they don’t just happen to women. They could happen to anyone. Even the person typing these words. You never know what people are struggling with. Sometimes the person who’s best at pretending everything’s okay is someone who’s falling apart at the seams. Treat folks as if they’re going through a severe personal trauma at any given time. Because they just might be.

  You take care of yourself, too.

  Publisher’s Note

  Please help this author’s career by posting an honest review wherever you purchased this book.