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Brett turned his head, looking out the window. His deep voice was a mere whisper when he said, “I loved my cousin. He was like a brother to me, even though he was a year younger than you.”
The scenery must not have been interesting enough, because right then he turned his head back to me, blue eyes appearing dark in the shadows as they bore into me when he added, “So, yes, I can love. Can you?”
Now it was my turn to prickle. “What’s that supposed to mean? I’m not the sociopath here, you are.”
“Yeah, and I’m not denying what I am, but you, Charlie, you seem… closed off. Like you’re going through the motions, like you don’t really care one way or another, and if that’s the case, then why the fuck are we doing any of this?”
Why were we doing any of this? Good question. I had the answer, but I couldn’t say it.
I didn’t see myself growing old. I never could. Certain things had been taken from me, my heart broken, and I was left with a life I didn’t want, complete with a stalker who liked playing with me. Sometimes, a lot of times, I just wanted it to be over.
I had the feeling this was the final chapter in my story, and call me crazy, call me insane, but I wanted to take my mysterious stalker down with me.
But I couldn’t say any of that to Brett, so I told him instead, “Because I want to.”
“I guess that’s as good a reason as any,” he said. “Don’t tell me I got under your skin. I didn’t mean to. It’s almost too easy.”
He was right. He got under my skin easily. Way too easily. Like he didn’t even have to try, and he was able to pick at things he had no right to. I didn’t know why that was, why I let him rile me up like that—nor did I know why I kind of enjoyed it. Brett being Brett and all of his crimes aside, I think I liked it when he made stupid jokes and said things he shouldn’t.
I didn’t know what that said about me.
Once we made it to campus, I dropped Brett off somewhere that lacked a bunch of lights. I hadn’t seen anyone following the car during the drive, but then again, I never saw anyone following me. Whoever it was, he was good.
As I drove away from Brett, toward the student parking lot on the opposite side of campus, I couldn’t help but wonder if tonight would be successful. I was torn. I wanted tonight to be fruitful, but at the same time, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t nervous about it. Was Zak my stalker?
All I knew was: I didn’t want to brave parties every weekend for the foreseeable future, just for the slim chance my stalker might approach me.
I pulled into a parking spot and turned the car off. Once the inner lights shut off, I sat there in the dark, gathering all the courage I had left in me. It was all or nothing. Tonight would either be successful or it wouldn’t, but I wouldn’t know until I got it over with.
I got out of the car, straightened myself out, and began the walk to the area of campus that held the fraternities and sororities. Technically, they weren’t on campus—more like directly beside it, which was why the college couldn’t touch their parties. The police, on the other hand, were another story, but their only neighbors were other frats and sororities, so I doubted the police got called at all.
It was so stereotypical, but Brett was right. I literally stumbled onto a party at the second house.
The front door hung open, allowing anyone inside. A three-story house, I bet it housed anywhere between twenty to thirty college students. It wasn’t small by any means.
I tapped my fingers against my sides, and I didn’t let myself hesitate. I walked up and headed inside. They say if you acted like you belonged, no one questioned you—and so far, it was true. No one paid me any spare glances, not as I walked around the house and checked everything out. Had to make sure I was seen.
I made a circle through the living room area, where a lot of the other partiers were, along with the music, and then I wandered to the kitchen, where there was an overabundance of drink choices. I got myself a cup of water, and then I meandered through the back door. A small covered porch hung off the back of the house, and I went straight for the railing, setting my cup down on it and leaning against it.
Oh, shit. I had to text Brett and tell him where I was. I totally forgot.
After it was done and the message was sent, I slipped my phone into my back pocket and took the tiniest sip of water from my cup.
“Waiting for someone? Or are we just antisocial?” A smooth, masculine voice filled the air around me as someone came to stand near me. “And if it’s the second one, I can’t help but wonder why you’re here.”
Was this some kind of pickup line? I wasn’t sure.
I turned my head toward him, finding a semi-cute guy mimicking my stance by leaning on the railing and gazing out into the backyard, where someone had set up some beer pong. A group of people were currently playing and, based on the laughter, having the time of their lives.
“Can my answer be a little of both?” I asked, taking a page out of Brett’s book and forcing myself to smile even though it felt fake. I was trying to seem flirty. Maybe seeing me with someone else would make my stalker step up.
Or maybe this would be a big fat waste of time. Only one way to find out.
The guy nodded once, acting thoughtful. “Sure. Just tell me you’re not waiting for a boyfriend.”
I laughed. “Not a boyfriend, no.”
“Good. What are you drinking? I’ll get you a refill.” He was decently cute. Short black hair, pretty green eyes, a jawline that could cut. Taller than me by seven or eight inches. He was nowhere near as tall as Brett, nor was he as muscular.
