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Cold arms wrapped around me from behind in a sloppy hug. Male arms. I caught a whiff of spicy cologne.
“Baby,” a voice rasped in my ear. “I’ve been looking all over for you.”
“Dexter?” I twisted around. “What are you doing here?”
Normally, Dex was careful with his appearance. Tonight, he looked like he’d mashed up a business student with a rocker dude and left the house before they could untangle themselves. His crisp pink oxford shirt clashed with tight black pants, covered with zippers, that I’d only seen him wear onstage.
“I need you to be a good influence on me.” He tried to kiss my ear, but it was more of a slobbery lick. His dark eyes gleamed as his hair swung forward, brushing his jaw. “Can’t be without my good-luck charm all night. Look at you. You’re the most beautiful woman in the room, like always.”
“Dex, this is girls’ night. I told you that.”
He nuzzled me, tightening his hold, and jerked his head toward Blue Eyes.
“Yeah. That’s not a girl.”
“And you are…?” Blue Eyes asked with exaggerated politeness
“This is my boyfriend, Dexter,” I said quickly, wriggling free, before Dexter could make an ass out of himself. “And this is…” I gestured toward Blue Eyes, waiting for him to fill in his name.
“Hell-o?” Sydney jumped on top of me in a tackle-hug, almost knocking me over. Her voice was hoarse from partying. “What does a girl have to do to get a drink around here? I’ve been waiting forever… Oh hey, big boy,” she cooed, sliding to the floor and straightening Dexter’s collar. “That shirt with those pants? Really? Call me next time you get dressed.”
“Off my boyfriend, bitch,” I said automatically. Sydney would flirt with a post. No one took it seriously.
“Someone has to take care of him.” She shrugged a tanned shoulder and turned to Blue Eyes, her brows arched. “Who’sthis?”
“No one.” He gave her a tight smile and squeezed past her without saying goodbye.
But I caught a glimpse of him on the other side of the pillar, scribbling on a napkin. As Sydney bickered with Dexter about his outfit, a bulky body passed behind me. A crinkle of paper was pushed into my free hand. My fingers closed around it.
As flashing lights criss-crossed the darkness, I stared at the two words on the napkin.
little lies
That was it. In handwriting so neat and precise, it didn’t seem human. At least, not at a sloshed party on a Friday night.
*****
A few things happened after that night.
Dexter gave me his first “I’m very concerned about your well-being” speech, because after Blue Eyes left the party, I got sloshed.
Hangover and all, I couldn’t get those cold eyes out of my head.
And after spending a day with his note in my purse, I stalked him online.
It wasn’t hard. All I had to do was bring up the Kappa Sigma website, go through the hundred guys in the group photo, and…boom.
Back row, on the left, half a head taller than the guys on either side, with eyes like a chilly river. A hint of a smile instead of the wide white grins on most of the faces. He stood shoulder-to-shoulder with his row, that indefinable space around him. Alone in a picture of a hundred men.
I scanned the names until I found him.
Patrick Caruthers.
As I suspected, there wasn’t much about Patrick Caruthers on the internet. He was a senior. He’d wrestled on the university team freshman and sophomore year. He’d gone to high school in a small town I’d never heard of.
The only other clue came from a two-year-old article about study abroad programs in our campus newspaper,The Lighthouse.It was written by a girl named Jess Janicek.
“I’ve never traveled before,” says Caruthers. “Whatever happens in Rome, I know it’ll be life-changing.” Caruthers will spend his junior year in Italy,the article went on,where he’ll study economics at the University of Rome.
