Hutch went through Buck initiation? You two showed up at like 3 A.M. at my door in Spring House in your boxers? You said you had a mission or something like that.”
“A secret mission,” Matt corrected. But his tone softened a little and a smile began forming on his lips. “Hutch loved a secret mission. The seniors made us try to get girls’ underwear, but it was Hutch’s idea to go to your room.”
Devon nodded. A hard lump had formed in her throat. She could see the sides of his cheeks getting red, his eyes moistening. She leaned forward in her chair.
“What are you thinking about?” she whispered.
Matt swallowed back the tears. He said in a calm voice, “Hutch was the first person to call me out on my shit, freshman year. He called me a spoiled a-hole one day when I wouldn’t take out our trash. No one had ever said anything like that to me. I mean, Hutch grew up with money like I did. But I was used to being special, untouchable. He knocked me down a peg. I hated him for it. But it’s the best thing anyone could have ever done for me, ya know?”
Devon leaned back in her chair. With a shaky hand, she wrote on her notepad: Hutch = reality check.
Matt cleared his throat. “More keynotes?”
She looked up to find his cold eyes boring into hers. “Right. Just notes for myself to keep track of what we talk about—”
“But those don’t go anywhere, right?” Matt asked. His tears were gone.
“Well.” She smiled. For some reason, she was conscious of showing her teeth. She imagined it was the kind of terrified smile chimpanzees make when they’re nervous. “Don’t freak out. I have to record these sessions. It’s procedure.”
“Are you recording this right now? You know I can lawyer up in a second?” Matt’s voice escalated into a sharp bark with each word. “None of this is going anywhere without my consent. And I doubt you want to get my dad involved.”
Devon blinked several times. Right. Reality Check. She couldn’t try to be his friend. She wasn’t supposed to try. In this room, in this time, a “helpee” was just that: a human being who needed help from a detached resource. And as long as she sat in this chair and did what she was supposed to, Matt would see her as the enemy. It was her purpose to win his trust, not his friendship. It was her purpose to help him, no matter how pissed he got at her. Still, she knew that getting his dad involved was not a bluff on his part; his family definitely had the means and most certainly kept a lawyer on retainer. Matt’s family created the Dolgens Ski Company; they sponsored the U.S. Ski Team during the past Olympics. In public wasted moments, usually just before summer break, Matt had always bragged about how he’d expand the company into surfboards, how his dad would put him in charge of creating a surf team.
“Matt, I’m not a narc, okay?” Devon finally said. “Give me some credit. You know me.” She stood to prop the window open.
“Do I? When was the last time you and I actually had a conversation? Freshman year? On the bus to Freshman Campout? And then Hutch ODs and all of a sudden I’m supposed to pour my heart out to you? Bring up all the sweet memories you want, I’m done talking.”
Devon sat back down. “Fine, you don’t have to talk. I can’t make you. You just have to stay here for the whole session.”
Matt lowered his eyes. “So who else are they sending to you? Me, Isla? I heard Isla’s pretty wrecked. Started bawling right in the Dining Hall in front of everyone. They had to take her to the Health Center to get her to calm down; she was scaring all the freshmen. Guess it makes sense she was with Hutch all last year. They lost their.…” He caught himself before saying too much, drumming his fingers on his knees. “Who else are they making talk to you?”
Devon bent low to meet his gaze. “That’s confidential information. That’s part of this whole Peer Counseling thing. You guys have complete anonymity to talk about whatever you want.” Then she leaned back and glanced out the window, as if she didn’t care whether Matt spoke or not, as if she wasn’t hanging on his every word. Funny: this is what it took to get a