Uncovering Officer Smith (The Discovering Trilogy #2) (29 page)

“Becca, wait up!” Pausing on the library steps, I turn to see Tom with his dark glasses jogging after me. “Hey, where are you off to?”

“I’m heading back to the dorm.” I shuffle to the side, stuffing a small bottle of liquor into my messenger bag.

“You know, I haven’t really seen you in a while. I thought you might be avoiding me.”

“No, I’ve just been busy.” A lie. I’ve totally been avoiding him. Not sure when it happened, but I just started avoiding everyone. I have no energy for small talk and don’t really care anymore.

“Are you doing okay?” His arm lands on my shoulder comfortingly. I can’t help but stare at it, knowing the desired touch is not his. I wonder if my body will ever crave anyone’s touch as I craved John’s. Will I ever feel the same way about anyone else? The worst part of all this is even after all this time—I’m not sure any of this would even stop me from falling for him all over again.

“I’m fine.” I think I’ve said that line more in the past month than any other.

“You don’t look fine.” Tom’s eyes peek through his glasses, attempting to tear down my walls. It’s not going to happen – not even for Clark Kent.

“I’m just tired,” I lie again.

He glances around, awkward or nervous; I can’t tell which. “Well, I have to get to class. But I’m just next dorm if you need to talk.” He finally takes his hand from my shoulder.

“Okay.” I nod only to amuse him. A drunken mind vaguely remembers the kiss we shared. I think I’m hoping to forget it ever happened, but one look into his eyes and I know he never will.

He heads toward the Adams building and I turn the opposite way, slipping around the Old Building and in the direction of the football field.

My feet immediately take me home. My throat grows drier with each step, already craving that first sip. I mindlessly follow them as they trace their way up the three flights of stairs and down the east wing. Swinging my backpack onto my hip, I lift my keys out. They jingle against the door before the door opens.

I’m immediately met with sobbing. Surprised, I look up to find Meggie sitting with legs folded on the couch and a tub of ice cream between her legs. Tissues are scattered all over the floor, Lifetime channel is playing on the television across from her, and I think there is a half-eaten box of chocolates under some tissues beside her.

“Megs?”

“Bec-ca.” She hiccups. “I… Troy… and… had his arm around another girl.” I tiptoe around all her dirty tissues before sitting beside her on the couch.

“Maybe she was just his friend.”

“No, not that hoe, Jessica Falco.”

She’s right. I have heard that name in passing—Another downfall of going to such a small school. “Okay, well you refused his offer.”

“Oh, so I suppose this is all my fault.” Her green eyes look a bright emerald green with a new set of tears streaming down. She blows her nose.

“No, I just didn’t think you were that into him – so maybe he didn’t either.” I shrug, placing my arm around her.

“I didn’t think I was.” She sniffles, reaching for another tissue.

“But you… are?”

“No. I mean… I don’t know.” She blows into the tissue between her hands.

“Megs, I’ve never seen you like this.”

She breathes deeply. “I promised myself I would never be like this again.”

That’s news to me. I open my mouth to speak, but she continues. “My high school boyfriend promised we would always be together, he told me that we would always have a piece of each other if I let him fuck me.” She sighs. “So, I did.”

“Oh, Megs.”

“He dumped me a few months later. I was devastated. I couldn’t eat or sleep, and my grades fell even lower. My mom finally stepped in when I lost a drastic amount of weight and had me see a counselor.” Her crying is coming in a constant stream down her freckled cheeks. “I never really gained any of it back.”

“Why didn’t you ever tell me?” I whisper.

“I thought I was over it.”

“You’re not.”

“Oh, what, are you a Psych major now?” she teases, pinching my stomach.

“No, but I know you and doesn't the fact you can’t commit to someone say something about the underlying fear of getting hurt again? You always make some excuse about why someone is wrong for you, Megs.” Her green eyes glance away from mine to the tissue she keeps twisting in her lap. “But I think it’s you that wasn’t ready.”

“I’m not.”

“Then why are you so upset?”

“I don’t know.” She sniffles.

“You like him, Megs.”

“Shut up.” She moves away from me.

“You do. I don’t care what you say.”

She throws the box of chocolates off the couch and scrambles to her feet. “I know. I know I fucking like him, okay? But I messed up. He’s with someone else now.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I saw it with my own eyes, Becca!” She picks an armful of tissues off the floor and carries them to the trash. “Right in the middle of the cafeteria. He knew I was looking too. He did it on purpose.”

“Guys are stupid. But didn’t you say he saw you with Josh the other day?”

“Shut up, Becca, you’re not helping.”

“No, Megs, you’re being stupid. You can’t have things both ways. Not anymore.”

“I can have friends.”

“Not friends that come over late at night and leave before the morning sun.”

She shoots me a look, the death stare, the look that tells me I hit a nerve. I already know I’ve won.

Meg paces a few times, kicking a few stray tissues this way and that. Finally, my words sink in. She sits on the arm of the chair beside me. “What do I do?” Her voice is so small, so filled with concern, so incredibly honest, my eyes tear.

“You have to talk to him.”

She shakes her head. “No, there has to be another way.”

My head drops before looking back up with an exasperated look, “Do you want this or not?”

She makes a noncommittal face.

“Well, then, you have to tell him how you feel. Give him a chance to explain. At the very least, you tried. If you keep this all in now, there will always be that ‘what if’ question haunting you for the rest of your life.”

“Ugh, I know.” She falls back into the chair. “Damn you, Becca. When did you become such an expert on relationships?”

“I’m not.” It’s my turn to look defeated. “I know absolutely nothing.”

We sit there in silence for a few minutes, the only sound between us the distant beat of someone’s radio. Both of us are inside our own heads, probably retracing everything we’ve ever said or done to the men both of us can’t seem to get over.

“We need to get out of here,” I finally say.

“Great idea.”

“Where to?”

“I think there’s a party going on just off campus.”

“Perfect. Let’s get dressed.”

Two hours later, wearing make-up and dressed in skinny jeans with tight, low-cut shirts, we are twins tonight. Knee-high boots and straight hair complete our look. The two shots we took before leaving our room seem to hit us as we are walking down to the cab. The driver gives us a look, but only asks for the destination.

Meggie has all the details. She always seems to know where the best parties are.

We walk up the entrance to the huge, Tudor-style Alpha Delta Pi house arm-in-arm. When we open the door, the music hits us, along with a cloud of pot smoke. We take one last glance at each other and head inside.

Once through the front door, Meggie immediately recognizes someone she knows and pulls me over to the living room. The entire house is abuzz with conversation and laughter.

“Becca, this is Kenny. Kenny, this is Becca.”

Kenny is the typical frat boy that Meggie always goes for. She probably knows him from class or from another acquaintance. “Nice to meet you.”

After introductions, Kenny returns his attention to Meggie. Their eye lock alone is making me uncomfortable so I head deeper into the house for a drink.

I’m alone against the wall with what’s probably my second cup, when I make eye contact with someone across the busy room. I glance away and back again to find he’s still staring. With a smile, he wanders over to me. “I feel like I know you.”

“You do?” Totally shameless pick up line.

“No seriously, it’s your eyes – I know those eyes.”

“Well…”

He snaps his fingers. “You’re Ford’s little sister!” he practically shrieks. A few people glance over at our encounter.

“Yeah, he’s my brother.” I nod.

“Oh, shit, nice to meet you. I’m Cole.”

I shake his hand. It’s cold from the beer he’s holding. “Hi, I’m Becca.”

“Do you want another drink, Becca?”

“Sure.”

He leaves me with a laugh. “I can’t believe I’m drinking with Ford’s little sister.”

I don’t know what’s creepier: the fact he likes me because of my brother, or the fact he still wants to talk to me, regardless.

He’s back in a few seconds, passing me a red cup. I sniff it when he’s not looking. I don’t know why – GHB is odorless. Maybe the fact that he knew my brother comforted me. But, I drink it; even knowing I shouldn’t, especially after all that’s happened. But I’m desperate for a buzz.

“So, what’s up Becca? How come I haven’t seen you around?”

“I keep to myself.”

“That doesn’t sound like a Swanson.”

“Well, my brother and I have different views on education.”

“I guess so. How’s your brother doing?”

“He’s good. How do you know him exactly?”

“The picture?”

“What picture?”

“Come.” He drags me down the hall and into what must be a living room. Dirty couches with patches and stains litter the room. Propped up on the mantle of the fireplace is a blown-up picture of my brother and John. They are both holding bottles of alcohol and they are standing in the hall of the Adams building holding permanent markers. Behind them the framed founding fathers of the college, all have black moustaches and uni-brows, and blacked out teeth.

“Oh my God.” I gasp.

“They are legends here at the frat.”

“I guess so. You have their picture framed on the wall.”

“Tell him he’s welcome to come pay a visit any time.”

“Will do.” Definitely creepy. But, Cole is cute. I could definitely use a beautiful distraction. So, I take another swig from my cup and listen to him blabber on about his fraternity brothers.

I’ve learned all about each of the current members in the fraternity, and told Cole literally nothing about myself. I did get that buzz I was craving so much. It takes me away from Cole’s mindless babbling and I scan the party for familiar faces. I see a few people I recognize from campus, and then find Meggie. She’s in the corner talking up some other guy I don’t to know. My eyes wander over to the picture of John on the wall; anger doubling inside me. I leave Cole sitting on the couch and disappear into the sea of people. I wind my way back to the kitchen, ladling myself something that smells like fruit punch out of this huge bowl, when I feel someone at my side.

“Hey, I’m Steve. What’s your name?”

I turn to meet the eyes of someone I’ve seen before; only a few days ago they were mocking me from my computer screen.

I don’t know how my drunken mind remembers this with such clarity. “Do you go by Steve or ‘Stud-101’?”

He looks at me curiously. “Have we met before?”

I burst into laughter and the fruit concoction comes spewing out of my mouth. “You don’t even remember the people you meet on there?” He gives me a smirk but I’m the one that keeps going. “No, actually you viewed me and passed.”

“Oh.” He looks surprised, glancing me up and down.

“Well, screw you. You missed your chance, pal.” I scream so loud, people start looking at me. “You missed your chance with all of this!” I drunkenly point to myself before storming off, proving some kind of inebriated point.

I find Meggie and tear her away from some guy’s grasp, and then haul us toward the door.

“Hey, I was just getting started…”

“I want to go home.”

She stops me on the porch of the fraternity house. Her eyes scan my face before responding, “Okay, lets go home.”

After a long walk back to campus, we burst through the door in a fit of laughter. Meggie stumbles inside, collapsing onto the couch.

“Meg, tonight was fun.”

“Yeah, it was!”

I move into the living room and collapse onto the couch beside her. “We should do this more often.”

Then Meggie puts a hand in her pocket and leans closer. “I have a joint.”

“A what?”

“A joint. That boy, Kenny gave it to me.”

“Really?”

She nods, climbing to her feet. She walks over to the window in the living room, opening it slightly and climbing onto the ledge. I watch from my seat on the couch as she uses the lighter we have for candles and lights the joint at her lips. She inhales and blows it out the window.

“Want some?” She turns to me.

“Me?”

“Come on, Goodie Two Shoes. Try some.”

“Sure, why not?” I meet her at the windowsill, putting the thing between my lips. “What do I do?”

She gasps. “You’ve never smoked before?”

“Me?” I repeat.

“You’re right. What was I thinking?” She giggles. “Just suck and breathe it in, like all the way into your chest.”