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"So what's up with you and Professor Girlfriend?" I asked. "I'm guessing you guys split since we've all had to rearrange our schedules for you and now I'm stuck on suicide watch."

Noel glanced over at me and scowled. "You're not on—look, I'm not going to do anything to myself. I'm fine. But yes, we're . . . " He had to pause as his face drained of color. "Over. It's been a week, but I'm past it."

Yeah, right. He was past it, my ass. "Then why are Larry and Curly still worried about you?"

"Because they're pussies?" He lifted his hands and shrugged. "How the hell should I know?"

I rolled my eyes. It was harder to get information out of him than it was to draw blood from a stone. "Well, what happened?"

He began to tap his fingers against his knee, much as I'd been tapping mine against the steering wheel. Must be some kind of chick-induced habit. When he turned to stare out the passenger side window again, I groaned. He was not helping me with my own distraction in the least.

"Might as well tell me," I said. "I'm going to bug the piss out of you until you do."

He let out a belly sigh and glared over at me. "Some anonymous person sent a picture of us together to my coach, and she got axed."

"Well, fuck," I breathed quietly. "Why didn't you get into trouble, too?" When his face paled even more, I swallowed. "Or did you?"

Bleakness filled his eyes. "The picture only revealed her face. Mine was cropped off."

I frowned, instantly confused. "Wait. Then how did they even know it was a student she was banging? If they couldn't see you, she could've been fucking anyone."

Noel pushed up the sleeve of his shirt to show me a tattoo I didn't even realize he had. "Back in October, about a dozen of us got these the night before our big national championship game. It was the only clear thing you could see of me in the shot."

I glanced at the tat, read it carefully, and snorted out a laugh. "National champs? Didn't you guys lose that game?"

"And didn't I say we got them the night before?" he growled, shoving his sleeve back down to cover the mark.

I stopped razzing him since he seemed so miserable. But I still wasn't happy about what I'd just learned. "So, the girl got stuck with all the heat, and you just . . . let her take the fall . . . by herself?"

"No." He slammed a frustrated fist against my dashboard. On any other day, I would've called the prick out for that. No one treated my ride with such disrespect, but he was having a bad day, so I let it slide this time.

"I did not just let her take the fall," he said. "By the time I'd found out what had happened, she was already gone. Ten and Hamilton managed to talk me out of confessing to Coach. But that's what I should've done. Damn it. Instead, I went to Aspen's boss and tried to talk him into bringing her back. Big fucking mistake. Let me tell you. Coach would've just kicked my ass off the team and pulled my scholarship."

A bad feeling dropped into my stomach. "But not this prick?"

Gamble shook his head, looking a lot more homicidal than suicidal. "Nope, not this prick. When he learned I was the guy in the picture, not only did he refuse to reinstate her, but he refused to reprimand me. He's a big football fan, you see. So I threatened to leave school and drop out of the team if he didn't bring her back, to which he in turn threatened to go public if I even acted like I was going to leave. So now she's gone, and I'm stuck here in order to save her reputation and make sure she doesn't lose all chances of getting a job anywhere else in the country. But in the meantime, yeah, I look like a complete bastard for letting her take all the heat for our relationship."

"Man." I shook my head and blew out a low whistle. "That's harsh. Sucks to be you right now."

"Yep." Once again, he turned to stare out the side window.

"And you haven't heard from her at all since that went down?"

He sniffed as if trying to hold in some tears. "No. I'm pretty sure she left town. She won't answer her door, and her mail has been piling up."

"You don't think she would hurt herself, do you?"

Noel glanced slowly at me, giving me a hard stare. "Well, I hadn't until now. Jesus, she wouldn't—wait. No. Her car's gone too. If she were in the house, her car would still be there. She's okay."

I wasn't so sure. "Unless—"

"Jesus, Pick," he snapped. "Stop freaking me out. She's okay. She just needs some time."

"Well, if you ever need to get into her place, just to check and make sure, I know how to jimmy a lock."

Gamble shook his head. "God, man. Where'd you learn a handy trick like that? The state pen?"

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