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“Worked up a thirst?” Pax quirks an eyebrow.
“Dude. You cannot say a word to anyone. I mean it,” Mason tells him.
“Please, I’m begging you. I’d be fired. And, uh, this isn’t a thing anyway,” I chime in. “There’s nothing really to say.”
Mason gives me a narrow-eyed look. “Rude,” he says.
Paxton makes a lip-zipping motion. “I would never say a word,” he assures me. “I don’t gossip. People’s relationships, or, uh, whatever this is, are none of my business and none of anyone else’s. And I don’t talk about my bro, anyway.”
I’m almost done with my bottle of water when my phone rings in my purse from the other room, with Ruby’s ringtone.
I leap to my feet and dash in there. What is she doing calling me at this hour?
I pull the phone from my purse and answer. “You okay?”
“No.” She’s crying. Alarm floods my entire body.
“Are you in physical danger right now? Give me your location.”
“I’m not in danger. I’m just upset. I’m such an idiot.” She hiccups a sob.
I let out a breath of relief. She hasn’t been kidnapped, nobody’s holding a gun on her ... “No, you’re not. You’re fine. I am here for you. Tell me where you are, and I’ll come get you right now.”
“I’m just at my dorm.” She sobs again. “I’m so stupid.”
“No, you aren’t. You’re just upset. What happened?”
I can’t understand her through the sobbing, which has me very worried. It’s not like Ruby to be this worked up.
I’ll be there in no more than half an hour.” I sling my purse across my shoulder. I just had sex and didn’t have time to shower, my hair is a hot mess, and I can’t imagine what I look like, but Ruby needs me and I’m going.
“I’m coming,” Mason informs me. He’s standing in the doorway, was probably there the whole time. I start to protest, just because I want him to be with me so badly that it makes my whole body ache. And I’m afraid of getting used to this.
Love is dangerous. When you love somebody too much, they leave you, and they take pieces of your heart with them. This has happened to me twice already. I don’t know how much more of my heart I can spare before it won’t be strong enough to beat anymore.
“Let’s go,” he says. He’s tapping on his cell phone. “Uber will be here in five minutes.”
23
ROWAN
Ruby’s dormroom brings back memories of my time in college, wedged into a small cement block cell with two other girls. At least she only has one roommate.
Her roommate’s side of the room is decorated with posters of female rappers and all kinds of framed girl-power motivational messages.
Ruby’s, in contrast, is dedicated to all things literary. She has a picture of Gertrude Stein, a bust of Mark Twain, and a poem by Christina Rosetti, written in cursive, adorning her walls. Her bookcase is artfully arranged with colorful hardcovers, a quill and inkwell, more literary busts, and at least a hundred books.
She’s sitting on her bed with its purple comforter, hugging a stuffed Garfield from her childhood. Her eyes are red from crying and raccoon-ringed from melted makeup.
She looks up at me, Mason, and Pax, who tagged along with us for some reason. It’s 10 p.m.; you’d think Pax would have better things to do than follow us around.
“I shouldn’t have called you,” Ruby sniffles, grabbing a tissue from her box. She’s surrounded by piles of wadded tissue.
“Of course you should have called me.” I plop down next to her on the bed and put my arm around her shoulders. “You should always call me. That’s what I’m here for.”
She squints at my shirt. “Why are you wearing a T-shirt that’s ten sizes too big for you?”
My cheeks turn red. “I was at Mason’s house calling up people for the charity event, and, uh, Puck jumped on me and got my shirt all muddy, so he offered to lend me one of his shirts.”
