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Isla hands me her phone, showing me the photo. It’s a zoomed-in shot of me and Elias. He’s holding my face in his hands and he’s kissing me. We both look completely lost in the moment. I have to admit, it’s a good photo. You can tell it’s us. Besides, his car is hardly subtle. It’s blue and more fancy than any car I’d ever seen. It’s not hard to guess how we spent our night. My hair’s a mess. We look…like we just had hot, passionate sex and lots of it.
“It’s all over social media. Someone recognized you. They found out you’re the coach’s daughter. It got back to your dad and he kicked Elias off the team. Then, five minutes later, Elias got a phone call from home. His dad died. They found him this morning. It was a heart attack.”
“Oh my god.”
“And now he’s gone.”
“Gone? Gone where?”
“He told Gabriel to tell me that he’d be back for you.”
“Where is he?”
“He went home to Michigan.”
I jump out of bed, handing her phone back to her. “I have to go see my dad. I have to call Elias.”
“None of the guys can get a hold of him. His phone just goes straight to voicemail.”
I find my phone and I check my messages. There are a lot of them. But none from Elias. And none from my dad. I hit the call button. Isla’s right, it goes straight to voicemail.
So I leave him a message. “Elias. I just heard what happened. I’m so, so sorry about your dad. I hope you’re okay. I’m going to go talk to my dad and everything will be okay with the team, I’m going to make sure of it. I’ll fix this. I’m so sorry.” The message beeps and cuts me off.
Fuck.
I go into the bathroom, brushing my teeth in a rush. As I do this, I find some jeans, a sweater and a pair of sneakers, yanking them on. I grab my keys and my bag.
“I’m coming with you.” Isla follows me. I jab the elevator button but it’s too slow so we run down the stairs down to the lobby.
It looks like a convention of florists went wild down here. There are dozens of vases of stunning red roses. Their perfume has infused the entire room. They’re covering the entire desk. And the tables. There are some on the floor.
Three very large security guards are standing inside the locked front doors, facing a crowd of people outside. Some have microphones with news channel logos on them. When they see me, they start pounding on the glass, taking photos and yelling my name.
Kit rushes out from behind the desk. “Zara. I’ve left you, like, twenty messages. Here.” She hands me a small white envelope with Zara written on the front of it. “Those people are the press. Fucking CNN is here. You don’t have to talk to them, Zara. They won’t get in here.”
I open the envelope and pull out the note.
To my absolute perfection.
I’ll come back for you.
Everything will be okay.
Don’t ever doubt me.
You’re the one, Z.
“This is all my fault.” There are tears in my eyes. “I have to find him.”
“Zara, you can’t go out there.” Kit is frantic. “The back door is just as bad.”
“I need to see my dad.” The thought of walking across campus is daunting, with all these people chasing after me. I go up to one of the security guards. “Can you help me get to my car? It’s just over there, at the edge of the parking lot.”
“Sure thing, miss.”
Isla’s holding my arm. “I’ll come with you.”
We get outside and literally hundreds of people swarm around us. They’re taking photos and pushing their microphones in my face, yelling questions all at once.
