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My internal freak-out was all I could focus on, not the words on the page. I racked my brain trying to figure out a better solution, an easier one. One that wouldn’t have me flunking out in a couple hours.
I’d messed up big time. But at this point all I could do was try to finish the work and pray whatever I spewed out made some semblance of sense.
Two hours later, I’d barely finished when it was time to head to class. When Hudson wasn’t downstairs to walk with me, I knocked on his bedroom door and cracked it open.
The sight that greeted me was a hot mess. Hudson was flailed out on top of tangled sheets in nothing but his boxer briefs and a washcloth on his head. A small trash can sat beside the bed, and I knew what that meant.
“Shit, H, you okay?
He shook his head. “I feel like ass. I spent an hour with my head in the toilet and now I just wanna die.”
Normally I’d give him shit about not being able to hold his liquor, but he looked so miserable that I couldn’t add to that.
“Do you need anything? Water? Something for your head?”
“Nah, I took something after I purged my guts out. What the fuck did I drink last night, and how do you look alive?”
Stressed myself sober, that’s how.
I shrugged and shifted my bag on my shoulder. “There’s no telling what they put in that punch. The fruitier that shit is, the more dangerous, I swear.”
“Ugh. Never…drinking…again.”
“I’m guessing you aren’t coming to class, then?”
“Fuck no. But can you do me a favor and drop my essay with yours?” It looked like it took all his strength to point to his desk. “In the blue folder.”
“Of course, yeah.” I grabbed the folder, adding it to my bag.
“Thanks. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” He dropped his arm over his face like he was ready to pass out.
“Get some rest, H, and I’ll check on you after. Text me if you need anything.”
He gave me a thumbs-up, and as I closed the door behind me, I hated myself.
There it was, the easy, shit-tastic solution that was the answer to all my problems. Only I’d be betraying the one person I cared about more than anything.
No, I couldn’t do that. It wasn’t worth fucking Hudson over.
Only…he’d never know, right? It wasn’t like we got these back, and he’d still do well overall, considering his high standing. The alternative was I’d lose so much more, my standing in the frat, with my dad…
I stood there weighing the pros and cons, trying to talk myself out of it and then, in equal measure, convincing myself it wasn’t that big a deal. It was just an essay.
It just happened to have my whole life riding on it.
Desperation was an ugly fucker. It had me considering shit I never would have otherwise.
Hudson’s paper was burning a hole in my bag, and the temptation was too strong. He’d never know. He’d assume if he got a low grade that maybe the professor wasn’t a fan of his subject matter. Hell, maybe because it was Hudson, he’d score high regardless of my rush job. It would be fine.
Mind made up, I headed back to my room, quickly switched out the covers with our names, and headed to class.
OVER THE NEXT few days, the guilt riding me over what I’d done hadn’t lessened, and when I looked at Hudson, I still felt like a shit.
But he’d never suspected a thing. Why would he? He trusted me.
I should’ve known it had been too easy.
It was a Thursday, and Hudson sent me a message asking me to meet him in the park. An odd request, but I didn’t think much of it because we’d both had to get creative on where we could spend one-on-one time.
