PhD Candidate Faustus

20: damn'd; despair and die!

Faustus

I wake up slowly, with the afternoon light streaming in the room. Mephisto is in his bed, feet propped on the wall, smoking out the open window. He's reading, from a bright green book.
"What are you doing?" I ask, sitting up, slowly.
"Reading. I can read," he says, "Actually, I'm procrastinating assignments because I'm supposed to be studying and I'm not."
"No, what are you doing with that?" I ask, nodding to the book in his hands. It's my book. The one I wrote. "You don't like science."
"No, but you wrote it, so I thought I'd give it a try. You never told me you'd written a book before, well you told us about the text book eventually but this is more interesting than the text book," he says, putting it down.
"You—you like it?" I ask, sitting up.
"It's good, I mean I'm the stupidest person ever so I understand about an eighth of it but that's a lot given how stupid I am—don't cry I've brought you coffee before I have to tell you the thing I have to tell you," he says, sitting up to hand me a cold coffee.
"Nobody's read it," I mumble, wiping tears from my face.
"I doubt that; it's a nice book, especially if you like Alchemy and can read," he says, cheerfully.
"Thank you," I say, quietly, accepting the coffee, "No wonder you're not real."
"Okay, yeah, so now's as good a time as any to tell you we have to leave campus tomorrow."

Mephistopheles

Faustus literally screams and does not stop complaining for the next twenty hours until we have to go.
"Look, all of you have to do community service for being involved in the fight I picked this because I thought the three of you wouldn't mind," Father Thomas says, handing us each a list. Helen, Faustus, and I are all in the group, the last group to leave the bus, incidentally.
"Shopping?" Faustus, the reason we are the last group to leave the bus, is refusing to leave the bus.
"For supplies to fix the building you broke," Coach who was driving the bus, says, unsympathetically.
"Come on, let's just get it over with," I say, snatching up my list and Faustus'.
"Bless you," Faustus says, opening a book.
"Whatever," I mutter, exiting as Helen follows me.
"Can I talk to you?" Helen asks me, as we walk away from our chaperons and into the big orange store. The smell of freshly cut wood, and oil, greets us along with the blasting heat as we enter the big double doors.
"If it's about the thing I said I was not going to talk about, no," I say, lightly.
"It's not," she sighs, "It's about—just like —can we talk in private?"
"Fine," I say, drifting farther from our chaperones and the other students who are intended to be picking up supplies but are mostly in groups chatting.
"On the night of the Winter Formal, Lorrain was trying to blackmail me that's why I was upset and why he and Faustus started fighting," she sighs.
"What? Why didn't you tell us? Blackmail you with what, did he find out about us?" I ask, frowning.
"You could say that—he had one of the fucking videos," she says, taking a slow breath that shudders on the way in and out. "It's one of the ones we're both in."
"Fucking—which one? Can you see it's me?" I ask, my heart dropping.
"I don't know! I mean you can't tell it's us that well it's like five years ago but—,"
"I'm fucking recognizable," I say, dragging a finger down my scar.
"I told the police."
"You what?"
"It's child porn, he deserves to go to prison."
"I don't," I snarl, grabbing her arm, "Why are you telling me this now?"
"So you can run, Jamie, so if you need to you can bolt— the cops have had that video it's nothing new—,"
"No, but if they connect it to me, this me, right here, I am done," I say, my voice shaking. 
"I know, that's why I'm telling you—Father Thomas says they're letting him out on bail he's claiming he was hacked, he's gonna be back at school by tonight," she sighs, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry it's a mess I thought going to the police they'd keep him away from us—,"
"Okay, going to the police is usually the wrong thing, now we both know that. Fuck, I have to leave," it's over. I need to get out of here. Now. I have the twelve hundred plus what I've made from cheating and selling cigarettes I can afford plane fare and maybe someplace to stay in another city. I can do this. I have before.
"No, please, wait, just, let's think about this for a minute?" Helen sighs.
"There is nothing to think about. This has gone on as long as it could, or ever was going to. It was nice. But I have to go now. Please, tell Faustus I'm sorry after I go. I'll leave tonight."
"You can't do that to him—,"
"Two counts, first degree murder, does that mean anything to you? That plus the sex work charges? I'm looking at prison for life they will throw the key away if they get me. I am done," I say, shaking my head, "The world doesn't work out for me, I'm really thrilled it does for you."
"I'm sorry," tears are running down her face.
"It's not your fault, it's completely mine, okay?" I kiss her forehead, "Okay? It's fine. I've lived with this for years. I can make it. I will make it, until I don't, and I don't know when that day's coming, but I'm gonna run from it."
"Jamie—," her grip tightens on my arm, "There's a cop at the end of this aisle."
"Shit, just walk with me," I say, walking away.
"Hey, stop a minute."
We both run, I push Helen right and I go left. No point her being caught with me.
The cop takes off after me, he's older and slower, but not by much. Not by enough.
I run down an aisle with wooden beams. I pause to knock those over before continuing on, darting around another aisle then ducking through between boxes into another one.
One thing to say about Rose and Swan students, we know how to do chaos. All the other students on the trip, in solidarity, just scatter, just on principal. And the cop is left with a sea fleeing burgundy jackets. Yeah, despite being Sunday this is a school trip, so we are matching.
I plan to go out the back loading bays, cutting around towards the rest of the shopping complex where I can get lost in a crowd.
I make it out the back and cut into the parking lot. There's a strip mall. I can call a cab to there and be on my way to the airport within the hour.
Darting between a pair of cars I feel all the too familiar hands on the back of my neck, and cold cuffs snapping on my wrist.
"You have the right to remain silent, anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law—nice to see you again, Jax, or should I call you Juliet?"
"Wow, Officer Yates, way to carry a grudge—help—help police brutality! I've never seen this person before in my life!! Help me!!" I start flopping and twisting, slamming my head into the truck he's cuffing me against. I know this guy, he was a part of a sting a while back, trying to catch sex workers. Interesting thing it is not illegal for a cop to actually receive services, then ah, make the arrest. "Somebody help me! Or at least tell him that five inches is not average!"
"Shut up, Lexington, or whatever name you're using now," he says, trying to pull me to my feet.
"Officer, I'm going to ask you to let go of my student," Father Thomas materializes in all his priestly calm, holding up a hand gently as if that will get me free.
"This isn't your student. This man has been operating under the name Jax or Juliet Lexington, been a hooker for the past three years, we've never been able to nail him till now," he says, dragging me to my feet. "FBI matched his prints with a missing person case connected to a couple of murders a few years back."
"Well, I'm sure there's some mistake because this is Jay Lightborn, who is a student at my boarding school, I've met his parents several times and they'll be very upset to hear he was manhandled this way," Father Thomas says.
I snap my head up to stare at him, now. We both know for a fact he's never spoken with my parents.
"No way," Officer Yates looks between us, clearly confused. He knows damn well what I look like. Contacts, hair color, or no. He knows it's me.
"I'm sure Jay has his student ID card, now you can take him in but I'd rather not make the phone call and explain to his parents he's been mistaken for a  criminal while on a school trip, was chased through a parking lot, and hand cuffed," Father Thomas says, coolly.
I stare at him. What the fuck? How? And why?
"Why did he run?" Officer Yates asks.
"Fear most likely, again I can contact his parents and their legal council now or after Jay is safely back at school, but I would highly recommend you take the cuffs off that minor child, who is in my custody," Father Thomas says.
"I'll need to run his prints," he says.
I'm so glad I burned off my prints.
"Of course, I'm sure Jay's parents will be glad to have him cooperate, later on in the week once his finals are over," Father Thomas says, "If you would uncuff my student?"
He reaches down and the cuffs remarkably snap off. I rub my wrists, backing away in disbelief.
"Please contact our Dean if you have any questions about a student again," Father Thomas hands him a business card, "Come along, Jay."
I nod, following him quickly.
"Why—," I begin, quietly.
"Shall we discuss back at Rose and Swan?" Father Thomas asks, pleasantly, "I think we have a lot to talk about."
"Yes," I say, planning to bolt. 
We all pile back in the bus. Fausty doesn't even ask why there was screaming, just leaning against me to read, contentedly. I am nervous the entire bus ride, fidgeting. Helen keeps trying to look at me to ask what happened, but I just shrug. The faculty give everyone a little lecture about not bolting in a variety of directions with little to no provocation.
"Jay," Father Thomas stays me with a hand as I try to leave with the others. I just nod. I have little else to do but obey at this point. Coach stands flanking me, prepared to herd me or catch me if necessary. I don't blame him considering I was going to bolt.
"I'll catch up," I tell Faustus.
"What is it?" He asks.
"Just gonna pick up an assignment," I lie, which satisfies him.
Father Thomas has me follow him back to the chapel. I've never been in it, which is interesting. It's got nice stained glass, and wood pews, all stone and rather pretty.
Coach leans against the doors like a loyal guard dog, prepared to stop me from leaving if necessary. I am annoyed because I think it might be necessary.
"When?" I ask, folding my arms, and looking between them "How long have you known?"
"Jay, I've known since the day you set foot in my dorm that this isn't your real name," Father Thomas says, almost tiredly, motioning for me to sit down. He sits in the opposite row of pews.
"Why didn't you call the police—you knew—you both knew—,"
"I thought that you deserved the chance to stay here. To make yourself better. Your heart was in the right place, and it was clear you were only trying to find someplace safe to stay. You're a child. You're not on the street by choice, no one is. I thought you deserved someone to take a chance on you. Was I wrong?" Father Thomas asks.
"Yes, yes you were," I sigh, heavily.
"What makes you say that?" He asks.
"How long did it take you to find out I'm a hooker?" I ask.
"Couple of weeks," Coach scoffs.
"We were concerned you were a run away that parents might be worried about, I tracked you back a couple of aliases before the trail ran cold," Father Thomas says, "Now I've got a few ideas. But I'd like you to tell us. Who were you?"
"My name is Juno Arthur," I say, leaning back in the pew, "And on December the 26th, at 9:10 pm. I killed my parents."