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“I hate this stupid stuff,” sighs the other. “TJ is always bragging. We all know how the manhunt ends. Last year it ended badly. One of us ended up in the morgue and no one seems to care.”
What?
My mouth opens by itself, “Excuse me, do you know what this party is about, exactly”
The little brunette stares at me strangely.
“Do you want to go?” she asks, still staring at me.
I shrug one shoulder, pretending to think. In reality, I’m not planning on it.
“Maybe I do.”
Her friend laughs sarcastically, “A word of advice, don’t go. Trust me, you don’t want to get involved in their little games. I wonder what they have planned this year…”
I frown, confused. What they have planned…? It’s just a stupid party between students who have to drink more alcohol than they should, right? I don’t see what could happen to me—I mean, besides ending up in the morgue, apparently.
“You said a girl died at this party. What exactly happened? What’s with the manhunt?”
Neither of them answers me. I lose my patience, “Damn it, girls, this isn’t Twilight. Am I going to run into Jacob Black or what?”
They raise their eyebrows at the same time, not finding my joke funny at all. I guess the important thing is that I think I’m hilarious?
They walk away mumbling, leaving me with my questions. Why do most of them seem eager for the evening to arrive and others totally repulsed by the idea? And Tucker, Yeleen, TJ, and the whole gang are connected to the death of a girl? What happened?
I shake my head and enter the B4 lecture hall, trying to forget about this crap for the moment.
I purposely choose a seat on the right side, avoiding the spot where Tucker usually stands. I don’t want to be near him right now, not when I’m wondering what the fuck his role in all of this is. Maybe he’s more dangerous than I thought. But he’s a student, damn it. What could he possibly be doing that’s so dangerous?
The class goes on in a rather unnerving calm. Professor Richards’s lecture is interesting, but my eyes keep wandering down the rows near me. They search for a single person, who seems absent.
No sign of Tucker.
It’s only when I get to my car an hour later that I run into him.
Tucker is leaning against his pickup, arms crossed, staring at me. A rather tall, angry guy is talking to him with big gestures. Tucker continues to stare at me though. I attempt a small smile in his direction, just to be polite. After all, we are on good terms, right? Despite his caveman behavior a few days ago at the bar, he still saved my car.
The guy in front of him sighs and turns his head to look at what Tucker is staring at, which is me. Tucker mutters something, and his friend finally gets into the pickup, slamming the door. Who was that? Another member of his group?
Tucker doesn’t take a step in my direction. Arms still crossed, jaw still clenched, he watches me intently, as if waiting for I don’t know what.
So I do what I do best. I turn my back on him and climb into my car, ignoring him.
***
Tonight is my first time behind the bar. Thanks to my success last weekend and this early evening, Buck seems to have decided to trust me. So here I am, serving a pint of beer to a guy who grunts a “Thank you” when I hand him his drink.
A throaty sound catches my attention. I turn around slowly, a polite smile on my face…a smile that quickly turns into a grimace.
“Are you following me?”
With a wry look on his face, Tucker raises an eyebrow as he parks himself on his stool. “I’m not allowed to come here to drink on a Friday night?”
I lean over the counter and sigh, keeping myself from rolling my eyes, “Don’t take me for a dummy, it doesn’t say ‘dumb’ on my forehead.”
As Tucker leans over, he scans my forehead, as if he’s trying to read something.
I straighten up and mime, “Idiot,” with my lips.
