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“His dad pulled him out of school,” he responded, seeming to catch my drift. “At least, just for a little while. Until all this drama calms the fuck down.”
I let out a snort. Drama.
This wasn’t drama.
This was avenging my friend.
“Well, can he come here?” I said. “Or do we have to haul ass all the way back to our hometown?”
Felix smirked. And I could tell that it was going to be the latter.
“You up for a little road trip?” he said, standing up from the couch. Instead of heading right back toward the door, he offered me his hand. And smiled. “Not that fifteen minutes is much of a trip, but you know what I mean.”
I raised an eyebrow in suspicion at his outstretched hand. I moved to take it, but at the last moment, even as our fingertips brushed, I pulled back.
“I don’t care, you know,” I said, the thought occurring to me as the words spilled from my lips. But I just had to say it. “About Elliot being poor. Couldn’t give a crap. Makes sense that he’d want to go to a cheaper school, but still…”
Felix bit his lip, as if he knew where this was going.
“So?” I pressed, and couldn’t help the smirk spreading on my own lips. “Why’d he choose Powell? Over any other public college in the area?”
Felix shrugged.
“Maybe it was a matter of being close, but just far enough,” he replied, wiggling his perfectly groomed eyebrows at me. “Make what you will of that.”
I shook my head at him and took his hand. “Whatever.”
Felix lifted me up to my feet, and after taking a moment to draw in a deep breath and wipe the tears from my eyes, I followed him out of the lounge and back into the hallway. Instead of turning left like I thought he would to head to the elevator, he turned back in the direction of his room.
“Can’t leave Leo behind,” he explained, whispering over his shoulder. Funny that Felix, one of the most party-hard-and-loud people I knew, would have any consideration for those living around him.
“Whatever,” I said again, crossing my arms. “Just hurry up.”
He obeyed. Less than ten seconds later, Felix returned, Leo sauntering close behind in a beanie and flip-flops. Unlike Felix, he seemed to have a little less awareness for the passed-out drunk and sleeping kids in the rooms around us as his feet squeaked across the floor in the dead silence.
Even though fury had shoved aside the sadness and guilt that had rushed through me just minutes ago, Pierre’s face still flickered in and out of my vision. I had to keep my chin high and force myself to breathe to keep myself from letting any more teardrops streak my face.
Once we’d squeezed into the elevator, I took the moment to check my phone, to scroll back through our text messages, look over any missed calls from Pierre. There was nothing.
Well, shit.
That was a lie.
There was one missed call from a few hours ago. No, way more than a few. It had to be around the time that Elliot had whisked me away to that stupid party at his cousin’s place.
How hadn’t I seen it?
I swiped to Pierre’s number and pressed call. There was a moment of silence before his voice echoed in my ear, but it was just his voicemail. I hung up and tried again. The same message greeted me again. I went to my phone’s dialer to try the hospital when I realized I had no idea where he had been taken. With no other options, I flipped to my text messages and sent:
Pierre, call me as soon as you see this. Please.
Frustrated, I shoved my phone into my pocket and tightened my jaw again. I wanted to punch myself in the face. Trap myself in a dark room and never come out. Starve.
This wasn’t fair to Pierre.
He didn’t deserve this.
Who did?
