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I stayed quiet. Ingrid meant well. I knew that. She always did. But she really did not understand the family that she had aligned herself in.
“Don’t worry about Carla,” I said, ignoring the other parts that she said. “I am going to go find her.”
Ingrid said nothing as I walked out of the hotel. There was nothing left to say. I needed to find Carla. And when I did, I was going to force her to listen to me.
CHAPTERTHIRTY-ONE
“You look incredible,” Caleb said as he led me into a smoke-filled apartment. The stench of weed and cigarettes choked me, and I regretted coming here the moment I’d stepped out of the cab.
That regret just grew as all eyes turned to me, and I felt myself being dissected.
“I think I’m overdressed,” I muttered. My long, gold gown was wasted in this shabby space surrounded by plastic cups and bongs, and I wasn’t the only one who knew it. “Can’t we go to a coffee shop or something?”
I’d called Caleb after learning about Eli, not because I wanted to cry on the shoulder of my ex-boyfriend, but because Caleb was the only person who really knew me. And I’d thought that I needed that.
Now, I wasn’t so sure.
“My room will be quieter.” He grabbed my hand and led me through the party, ignoring the way my entire body stiffened as I took stock of what was happening around me. It seemed that Caleb was into his old shit again.
I shouldn’t be surprised. Just because he managed to get into college, didn’t mean he’d suddenly gotten his life together, and the trauma that had jolted me quickly into sobriety hadn’t happened to him.
Still, as I watched the party unfold around us, I felt a twinge of regret.
“Sorry about that.” He led me into his room, shutting the door behind me. “When I told you to come over, there were just a few people here having some beers.”
I didn’t believe that. Caleb always had a penchant for manipulating the truth, and I allowed him to do that to me the entire time that we were going out. I’d buried my hand in the sand, ignoring all of his faults for the pleasure he provided me. Or rather, the drugs.
“I shouldn’t have come here,” I muttered, looking at his dirty room. The room smelled like mold, and I was trying my best not to gag at the scent. “I don’t know why I called you.”
“I’m glad that you did.” Caleb shoved a bunch of laundry off the bed before he kicked it out of sight. “I was hoping that you might call me.”
I still didn’t get why. Caleb had stopped talking to me after everything that happened, and I assumed that since I was no longer able to be his good time girl, he’d discarded me. “Why did you want to see me?”
“Why did you call me?” he lobbied back.
I sat next to him on the bed, trying not to wince at the idea of my expensive dress touching his dirty sheets. No doubt ones that he’d used to fuck other girls. Caleb wasn’t a monk. While we were together, he’d stepped out. I’d let him, thinking it made me cool and carefree.
Now, I realized I just hadn’t had the energy to care.
“I wanted to see you to apologize,” Caleb said. He reached out and took my hand. I allowed him. It felt nice to have a bit of human warmth. The kind without strings. Caleb might not have been the guy I wanted to think he was, but with him, I knew what I was getting. “I should have been there for you after everything that happened.”
I shrugged. “I’m over it,” I said. I was over my anger towards Caleb. These days I was all tapped out on anger, and I was starting to realize that when I allowed my anger to control me, I made stupid ass decisions. Like right now, I was hurt by Eli, and now, I was sitting in a shitty apartment where I didn’t want to be.
“Do the police know what happened?”
The change in conversation jerked me back from my inner thoughts. “Huh?” Caleb and I had not talked about what happened that night. I hadn’t spoken to anyone but my therapist about that night. Hell, I barely talked to her.
“Everyone was talking about it,” he said sheepishly. “I was just wondering if the police or your father know who did it.”
I blinked several times as I tried to process the question. I supposed that it was fair, but it was still a little bit of an odd question to ask.
My silence must have signaled that to Caleb. “I’m sorry,” he said, backtracking. “I shouldn’t have asked that. It was a stupid question.”
It wasn’t a stupid question, but it was an odd one.
I sighed. Caleb meant well, I knew that, and I felt bad that I’d run to him when things with Eli fell to hell.
“How are you liking NYU?” I asked, searching my mind for a way to change the subject.
