Uncovering Officer Smith (The Discovering Trilogy #2) (27 page)

“Becca! Becca wait up.”

“Ugh.” I roll my eyes, knowing that voice. I turn to see Tom. He runs across the field toward me, backpack swinging from side to side behind him. All its contents thump when he stops beside me.

“Hey.”

“Hi,” I mutter and continue walking.

“We are so going to be late for class.”

“I know.”

“How are you feeling after the other night?”

“Fine. I still don’t understand how I got so drunk. I mean, didn’t we win at pong?”

“Quite a few times. It must have been whatever was in those cups Meggie made.”

“Must’ve been.” I shrug, continuing my hurried pace.

“Um…” Tom starts to crack up beside me.

“What?”

“You just…”—Tom leans forward, wiping his finger across the corner of my lip—“Have a little something here, toothpaste maybe?”

“Oh, thanks.” I wipe more vigorously around my mouth. “I would have been so embarrassed.”

“No problem.” We’ve made it across the football field now; only a few more steps to the Old Building and I can be rid of this awkward conversation.

“I’m glad I ran into you before class. I wanted to talk to you about the other night.”

“What about it?”
Oh, here it comes
.

“I know you probably don’t remember much… but we…”

“I remember.”

“Oh.” His face falls, his gaze follows.

“I…”

He sighs. “Don’t make that face.”

“What face?”

“That face where your whole forehead scrunches when you don’t know the answer. It’s rare, but it happens.”

“I didn’t know I had a face.”

We are arriving at the back door to the Old Building now. My backpack shifts from side to side on my shoulder behind me. This is even more awkward than I imagined.

“It’s okay. You don’t need to have all the answers. I just want you to know that the kiss meant something to me.”

Tom leaves me with a nod before disappearing up the stairs of the old brick building. Once again, Tom leaves me staring after him, speechless.

It’s only slightly more awkward upon realizing Tom is in the middle of my classroom—Sitting in my Abnormal Psychology class. This can’t be part of his required classes. He must have taken it as an elective. What kind of sick person takes an advanced Psych class for fun? I’m whispering a prayer of thanks when I see the seat beside him is taken before walking inside. I resolve to sitting in one of the horrible front seats.

The eyes of the entire class are on my back. I try to focus on my classwork, writing everything the teacher says, but that too seems to be hard. I don’t quite understand what she is talking about. I turn only once to glance out the window. Instead, I’m met with the curious blue eyes of Tom. I quickly turn my attention back to the chalkboard. My phone is on my desk, quietly counting down the minutes until I can finally escape this torturous room. When I hear students begin to pack up, I zip out with my books in my hands.

I make the mistake of stopping by the cafeteria before heading back to the dorms. My stomach is growling with a vengeance as I check out the selection. My hand wraps around a blueberry muffin when Tom catches up to me.

“Becca.”

“Sorry, I gotta go. I’ll see you later.” I try to slip around him. He blocks my path.

“Listen, Becca, I didn’t mean to put you on the spot like that.” Tom sighs. I pause and allow him to explain. “I know you’re going through some stuff. ”

“It’s okay.” I feel my shoulders relax.

“I want you to know, I’m here if you need me.”

“Thanks, Tom.”

One week later, I’m still thinking about… well, everything—Actually, avoiding everything. I’ve decided against leaving my bed and facing the world outside. I’m not ready for it, and I just seem to get hurt and getting people hurt.

The front door creaks open and slams shut. “Bee?” Meggie’s voice calls into the dorm.

“I’m in my room,” I call from underneath the covers.

I hear her enter. “Rebecca Swanson. Please tell me you are not still in bed.”

“Leave me alone,” I groan, rolling over to face the wall.

“Did you skip class again?”

I jump up. “Oh, look who’s talking.”

“This isn’t like
you
, Becca.” She sighs, glancing around my room. “I’m worried. Look at this place.” Her arms swing out wide.

“What?”

“You haven’t done laundry in three weeks. Your books are still in your bag. I don’t even think you’ve eaten a full meal all week. Your stomach is surviving purely on vodka and dry cereal at this point.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s normal for a college student.” I get out of bed. Meggie is not going to let this go. I might as well humor her.

“A college student – yes. You – no.”

“What’s the big deal?” I stalk out of my room, attempting to escape her.

“What’s the big deal? Are you kidding me right now?” Just as expected, she stomps after me. “All you’ve ever been talking about since I met you was law school this and homework that. Now, look at you!” She points to all of me. “You need to get over
him
and back on the infamous horse. Why don’t you try online dating?”

“I am not that desperate,” I scoff. Call me old fashioned but Internet dating gives me the creeps. Plus, a part of me is hoping that there is a reasonable explanation for all of this, and that John will call me eventually, even though the intelligent part of me knows it’s not going to happen.

“Why not?” She shrugs. “I do it all the time. I mean, nowadays, where are you going to meet someone?”

“In life?”

“Becca, let’s be serious. It’s not like you’re putting yourself out there. Come on, I’ll help you.” She grows soft with me, knowing this would be a big step. Pulling out her laptop, she taps the keys a few times before motioning me over.

“Okay, username?”

I smirk. “Reeks-of-Desperation?”

“Veto.” Meggie shoots me an exasperated look. “How about Smart-N-Sexy?”

“No! No
sexy
in the name. I’ll attract all kinds of creeps. Not to mention it makes me sound conceited.”

“Do you want their attention or not?”

“No.”

“Too bad. How about Look’n-4-Luv?”

“Sure, why not.” I roll my eyes. My best friend has that determined look in her eyes. I’ve seen that look before; the one she gives before making a move on a new guy. It’s as if once she has something in her sights, there is no letting it go.

“Now we have to pick a profile picture.” She peeks over her red laptop case with a wicked smile. “I was thinking of one from that Fourth of July party last year, the blue dress?”

“No way. I’m wearing way too much makeup. They are going to think I look like that everyday.”

“Don’t worry about it. Even Kim Kardashian has to remove her make-up at some point.” She finishes typing something and hits the ‘Enter’ key a few times.

“I hate you…” I mutter. Her fingers are gingerly flying over the keys now.

“Join the club. I hear it’s actually pretty fun.” She mocks me, continuing the constant typing. Finally, her keyboard clacking goes silent.

“Aaaand we are live,” she announces, peeking up over the top again.

“What?”

“It’s up.”

My mouth drops open. “No.” I scramble to my feet. “Let me see. What did you put?” She twirls the laptop to face me and I’m mortified. Not only did she put the picture with the blue dress, she said I was looking for a guy to prove that they are not all the same. I roll my eyes when I read that she indicated me being slim and intelligent, looking for men between the ages of twenty-four to thirty, any type. If I didn’t sound desperate before… it only takes one click to confirm. “I can’t believe you put this up.” I sink back down on the couch next to her.

“This is fun. Let’s check out some hotties.” She clicks on a link that says, ‘Check him out’, and the screen floods with thumbnail pictures of men. “Oh, how about this one!” She clicks on a guy and reads his profile aloud to me. “Looking for a laid back chick that loves outdoor activities and football games.”

“Veto! He’s looking for a man.”

“Aw, come on, he’s cute.”

“The guy sounds like a tool, and look, he even took the liberty of blurring out his old girlfriend’s face in his picture, how nice of him.” I give her a look that could kill and she scrolls a little further.

“How’s this guy?” The cursor hovers over a guy in a blue-collared shirt, his dark hair quaffed up.

“He’s okay…” I mutter.

“That’s good enough for me.” She clicks on a button that says ‘Message’ and a new screen pops up.

“Uh, what are you doing?” I reach for her arm.

“Messaging, duh!” She plugs in a generic ‘
Hey, how are you?
’ and hits send before I can blink.

“Have I mentioned that I hate you?” I spin around, running hands down my face, beyond mortified. This is just not something I’m used to. Well, putting myself out there, in general, is not what I’m used to. I had tried with John and look what happened to that.

“Hmm, nope, haven’t heard that one before.” She interrupts my internal pity party. Meg clicks back to my main screen before a number pops up. “Ooooh, we have visitors.” She clicks another screen and it shows twenty men have already viewed my profile. None of them pique my interest. Suddenly, the guy we messaged pops up on the top of the list. “Oh my God, he’s looking at us!” She practically screams in my ear. We wait in silence; the minutes pass by and I never get a message or what they call a ‘Wave.’

“He hates me,” I whisper. “I’m ugly.” I begin to doubt my entire existence.

“No!” she insists, too defensively. “He’s just busy. He’ll message you later or screw him – there are plenty of hotties on here.”

“No, this was an epic waste of time. Take me down.”

“What, because one guy didn’t like your profile? Come on, Bee.”

“I said, take it down.” I toss my books into a corner and storm out, humiliated.

I fall into my bed face first and pull the pillow down to cover my face. My feelings are hurt but apparently, my eyes refuse to tear up. It’s as if I have nothing left to give, no emotions left to hurt. I am thoroughly and officially finished with men until after I graduate and rule the world.

I arrive at The Bar only to get my check for last week. I’ve taken Matt’s advice and called in some vacation time. I need to focus on unsolved cases and not Rebecca Swanson.

I manage to sneak in and out without having to make conversation. I made sure to arrive early enough so I didn’t run into any of the night crew. I’m slinking across the patio when I hear my name called.

“Smith?”

I turn. Mack barrels toward me like a freight train. That guy is so huge; he makes my muscles look like child’s play. He looks like he could bench a car. I definitely don’t want to piss this guy off.

“What’s up, Mack?”

“I meant to talk to you about something, but haven’t seen you.”

“Go ahead.”

“You arrested two of my friends a while back.”

“Which ones?” I ask only to humor him. I already know. They had mentioned a construction company. I know Mack works for one. He’s only been picking up some shifts at The Bar to gain some extra money for an upcoming wedding.

“Jared and Eric. One has a ponytail, the other a shaved head. I think you picked them up at a residence. From what I hear, they really tore each other a new one.”