Page 49

My heart races inside my chest until he turns into the stairwell.

My stomach drops out. I feel hollow, almost as if someone reached inside of me and took something important from me. Six hours ago, I was in his lap. He said we could kiss tomorrow, but he’s here tonight, probably doing more than kissing with that girl.

I hold my breath until his footsteps fade down the stairs. I stay where I am until I can’t hear him anymore. Then I stay for another full minute, because I can’t trust my legs to hold me up.

Vee and Sarah’s door is right there. I could go back and sleep on the couch. They would let me and probably wouldn’t even ask any questions. I don’t. I go down the stairs instead. The parking lot is empty by the time I hit the exit.

I walk back to campus with my heart in my throat. He will already be back in the room when I get there, or maybe he won’t…maybe he’s going to another girl’s room. I don’t let myself decide which one I want.

But no matter how much I try, I can’t get the kiss out of my head.

TWENTY-THREE

DANIEL

I crack open the door to my room and move as quietly as I can over to my dresser after I toe off my shoes by the bed. I’m half way through pulling out a pair of sweats when I realize Quinn’s bed is empty. That’s different. He never goes out after eight. Even if it is a Saturday night.

Concern filters in while I get ready anyway. I had a few drinks at a club in town and ran into Riley, one of the girls I’ve been with before. Fun type. Zero expectations. Super flirty. When she invited me back to her place, I went, and we had a good time, even if I had to think about someone else the whole time. The whole point of going to the club was to get whatever the fuck this attraction is to my roommate out of my system, so the kiss tomorrow doesn’t turn into me grinding on him like an asshole.

It worked. Sort of. I’m a little past tipsy, okay, a lot…and I feel loose and my mouth tastes like her lip gloss. And Quinn’s bed is flat, and he didn’t sleep in it yet. Which makes me irrationally both concerned and annoyed.

A bit hypocritical, Daniel.

I check my phone for the first time all night. I had silenced it after I left. Because I’m obviously trying to get the title of asshole no matter what I do. But what if he had an emergency and I was the only one that could help, and I ignored his call or text.

No texts or calls from him. One from Riley with a winking emoji. I open the thread with Quinn and stare at it in the dark.

Me: you good?

The letters blur across the screen. I delete the question mark and then put it back. Then send it before I can think twice about the fact I lied to him when I bolted. I wasn’t meeting Blue for ice time. I just needed to get away from him before I did something stupid.

I climb up onto my bed and stare over at his.

He could be at the library, it’s open twenty-four hours. Or maybe he’s with Christine. None of it is any of my business, he’s not my boyfriend. And friends do not keep tabs on their friends’ whereabouts.

I lie back on my mattress and stare at the ceiling. My phone buzzes on my chest, and I quickly swipe it open. Not him. Reed from the team sent the group chat, a meme. I snort at the image, it’s Will Farrell with a huge ass seashell my drunk brain doesn’t have a name for, with the words in big bold letters across it: DRINKING BUDDIES ASSEMBLE!!!

Yeah, I already did that. Three hours too late, buddy.

“Don’t be dead,” I tell the dark as if it might have an answer for me.

The ceiling spins, and I shut my eyes. I should wash off the scent of Riley’s perfume because I don’t like it, and the sweet vanilla smell seems to be invading my nose. And it’s making my stomach roll. Oh, nope, that is the alcohol. I half fall, half slip off my lofted bed and make it to the toilet a second before the contents of my stomach make it up my throat.

I’m pretty sure I expel every drop I drank. Sweat beads my forehead, and I turn on the shower so I can get clean. I stay under the water until the spinning slows down. Brush my teeth while I’m still in the shower to get the rancid taste out of my mouth. Then shut it off, towel off, and wrap it around my waist to get a new pair of sweats from my dresser. The other pair ended up with some splatter from the contents of my stomach.

Quinn is in his bed. I stop so hard the towel is the only thing that keeps moving. He’s on his back, glasses on the nightstand, staring at the ceiling like I had earlier. He’s home. He didn’t text back.

“Where the hell were you?” It comes out wrong. I hear it and try to pull it back. “I mean—you never stay out. I texted. I thought something happened.”

Quinn sits up. His voice is flat in a way I haven’t heard since the first day when I destroyed his experiment. “I’m alive, obviously.”

“That’s not—” I scrub a hand through wet hair. The room tilts, and I shake my head trying to clear it. “I texted you.”

“I saw it.”

“And you didn’t answer?”

“I was busy.” He laughs once, but it’s nothing like the laughs I’ve earned from him in the last few weeks. I hate the sound. “You were busy, too. With Blue, right? Long practice.”