Uncovering Officer Smith (The Discovering Trilogy #2) (31 page)

I’m getting dirty looks as soon as I wander in beside Meggie. Maybe I should have changed. I don’t fit in here. Meggie says her greetings before dragging me into the corner, no doubt trying to hide me from these uptight sluts.

“Bee, would it have killed you to change?” she hisses.

“Probably.” I steal a handful of pretzels off the white fireplace.

“Ugh.”

“They got a nice set up here.” I chew.

“Don’t get used to it. I have a feeling we won’t be invited back.”

“Why, my dick not big enough?” I joke.

“Shh.”

“Oh, what do you care, Megs?”

Just then, the door busts open and a swarm of frat boys come stomping in, loudly and obnoxiously – finally, some cool people.

The sorority girls’ look taken back. Some attempt to hide the glassware is made, but no one throws them out.

“I think this party just got interesting.”

“Becca, promise me you won’t do anything stupid.”

“Define stupid.”

“Social suicide.”

“Hmm, we’ll see.”

“We’ll see?” she screams after me, but I’m following the guy with the keg.

The rest of the night is a mash-up of red cups and fraternity boys. I never saw Meggie again that night, but I do remember accidentally stumbling on some stuck up sorority girl’s foot and spilling beer all over her white dress. Oops. That got me kicked out.

Now all I can see is the line of street lamps as I wander across campus. The night air breezes through my thin hoodie and I shiver, pulling it close to me. What I wouldn’t do to have Meg here with me. Why do I always end up alone? The thought brings with it the emotions I’m still not prepared to deal with. My cheeks are wet. The only reason I feel them is that they are causing me to grow even colder.

I sniffle, wiping them away as fast as they come. That is, until I can no longer control them. Tears filter down my cheeks unbidden and I allow them.

Truth is – maybe I need them. Maybe I deserve them. I deserve the cold and tears because, how could Rebecca Swanson be so goddamn stupid?

An alarm is blaring from somewhere deep in the apartment. My bedroom door is wide open, causing the grating sound to echo against my tiny four walls.

I groan, “Meggie, shut that crap off.” Meggie’s response never comes. After rubbing my eyes, I glance over at my alarm clock. Bright red numbers read: 9:57. “Crap!”

Throwing the blanket off, my head is pounding. I stumble over to my closet and throw on a clean hoodie. My feet somehow find their way into a pair of moccasins by the door before I grab my notebook and stumble into the living area. Meggie’s alarm is still beeping behind her closed door.

“Meggie!” I try once more from the kitchen, stealing a water bottle from the door of the fridge. “Meggie, you’re going to be late for class.”

“I don’t care,” she vaguely grumbles from what sounds like ten pillows.

“I’m leaving. Let that guy out before I get back.” Just as I speak the words, the toilet flushes to life in the bathroom. Troy Turner walks out of the bathroom missing clothes, hands over his groin. My lip is automatically sucked underneath my front teeth as he sheepishly smiles from under messy hair.

“Becca.” He acknowledges me as he stands there with his back against the bathroom door.

“Troy.” I nod, trying to hide the smile across my face. “I don’t care what you have to do, just make sure she makes it to her second class.”

A smile crosses his face at what I can only assume are the possibilities of how to accomplish that task, before I open the door to leave. As I slip out, I steal a glance over my shoulder to see Troy Turner’s nice ass sneaking back into Meggie’s bedroom. Now, I know why he’s the ‘Tight End.’

The mad dash to the Old Building is a cold one, brisk even through my hoodie. My lungs pull the cold air in and I cough with the foreign burst of exercise. At this hour, students are glancing as I pass in my hung-over race to Abnormal Psych class. The only thing pushing me forward is pure adrenaline and the fact that I don’t want to throw up in the bushes in front of everyone. I circle around to the front of the building and swing open the door. There’s no one in the hallway – that’s a bad sign. With a deep sigh, I begin climbing the three flights of stairs to class. My midnight snack almost comes up, twice, before I make it to the top. Inhaling the deepest breaths of my life, I step into class, but they are already seated, taking their tests.

I gasp for breath. “Sorry I’m late.” I attempt to whisper, but it comes out more like a hiss.

The teacher checks her watch before handing me a sheet and waving to a desk. I collapse into a seat in the middle, still trying to control my breathing. Just as I’m about to begin, I notice I forgot to bring a pen.
Crap
.

My eyes dart around. Everyone is deep into his or her test. Everyone, that is, but the guy beside me. Tom. His eyes are on me through those judgmental black frames of his.
Ugh.

“Do you have a pen?” I whisper. A smile crosses his face before he leans over and slips one out of his messenger bag. With a faint return smile, I bend over my test and begin.

The test was easy. It was the pounding headache making mush of my dehydrated brain that made everything that much harder. I step out from the Old Building and head down the path toward the cafeteria.

“Easy test, huh?” Tom catches up to me.

“Yeah, it was okay. Here’s your pen.” I hand it over.

“No, you keep it.”

“Um, okay.” I tuck it into the spiral of my notebook and continue to the building.

“What did you get for that serial-killer gene question?”

“I think I put D – all of the above.”

“No, Becca, that was a trick question because C was false.” He sounds more disappointed than I am.

“Really? Oh, crap. I didn’t get much studying done.”

“I’ve noticed. You’ve been kind of out of it lately.” He pauses before the entrance to the cafeteria almost as if he were expecting an explanation.

“Yeah,” I mutter, opening the door. Lively shouts and conversations greet us like a cadence.

“What’s going on with you, Becca?”

“Nothing,” and then, I say the sentence that I’ve said a million times over the past few weeks, or maybe even months at this point. “I’m fine.”

“That’s a lie. But, if you don’t want to talk about it, I won’t push.”

“I’m not lying.”

“You are. Your face gives you away.”

“Ugh, I don’t have time for this right now.” I leave him in a huff, probably staring after me with that stupid look of his. I just can’t deal with it. I don’t have the answers, the energy, or the need to.

Later that night, I’m zipping up my boots when I get that anticipatory flutter in my stomach again. There’s nothing like not knowing where the night will take you. I pry my phone off the charger, toss the rest of my vodka-seltzer back, and head out into the kitchen. Ripping a banana off the bundle, I down it before turning toward the door.

“You’re going out again? Shouldn’t you be doing the dishes?” Meggie’s nagging voice greets me once again. Seems like I can’t do anything right anymore. “I mean, they are all yours and they are piling up – kind of like your homework. Tom came by today. He’s worried about you.”

I spin on my heels. “So, you guys were talking about me?”

“We are concerned for you,” she corrects.

“Don’t be.” I straighten my shoulders. “There’s nothing wrong. I’m finally doing what college kids do. I’m having fun enjoying my twenties.”

“Becca.”

“I’m going out. Are you coming?”

She stares at me for a second. With a sigh, she nods. “Fine, hold on.”

Having to drag Meggie to a party is a first. We walk up to the frat house and know a few people at the door, so they let us right in. Meggie follows me this time to the kitchen for a drink.

I prop myself up on the kitchen counter as Meggie sips her drink below me. “Looks like Jessica is having a good time.” She nods over to the corner.

Jessica is having a heavy make-out session in the breakfast nook with some guy I can’t see. We snicker, continuing to glance around the party.

“Beer pong?” Meggie offers.

“Sure. Let’s show these boys how it’s done.”

We head up toward the living room where an epic beer pong table is set up. By epic, I mean the length of the entire dining room table.

“Wow, I’ve never done it from this distance before,” I whisper in her ear.

“I’m sure you’ll do fine,” she whispers back. “We got next!” she screams for all to hear. A few guys snicker and laugh beside us, but only one guy in the corner responds.

“We’ll play the girls.”

I glance over to find two guys that don’t seem familiar. One is tall, the other on the shorter side. They look like they could be brothers, though. They have the same brown eyes and dark hair. The only difference in their appearance besides height is their hair. One has long, shaggy hair and the other keeps his spiked.

I make eyes with the tall, shaggy one. He whispers something to his brother and the game before us seems to take forever.

Finally, it’s our turn. The boys beat us to the table.

“Hey, ladies. I’m Tyler and this is my brother, Trevor.”

Meggie takes the lead. “Hey, I’m Meggie and this is Becca – and we are going to kick your ass.”

They laugh. “We’ll see about that.” Trevor snickers to his taller brother.

Tyler glances at me as he fills the cups in front of him, ready to start this new game.

“Yes, we will,” I respond, keeping my eyes trained on Tyler.

“Ladies, first.” Trevor nods to us. Tyler gives me the small white ball he had in his hands. I just love it when guys assume you can’t do things because you’re a girl. There’s nothing I take pleasure in more than proving them wrong.

Meggie leans into my ear. “Kick their ass,” she whispers.

“I plan on it.” I allow my voice to carry.

I form my little stance, popping up on the balls of my feet. My wrist sinks the ball into the middle cup. The room silences; both boys look to me.

“Drink up,” I state. Tyler rolls the ball back to me before chugging the cup. I swish the ball into the cup at the top of the triangle now.

Trevor takes it this time, drinking it before glancing back to this brother. I take the other ball from Meggie and sink that one into the cup behind the two missing spaces. Tyler steals the cup, tossing me the ball.

“You know, Trev, I’m starting to think we got played.”

“You have no idea,” I respond, sinking my ball into yet another cup.

We are forced to play a few more games before all the boys in the room get sick of trying to beat us and we take our leave. I have to get my buzz by drinking the screwdrivers that Tyler and Trevor brought for us during our third win, thinking maybe intoxicating me might help us lose. That was not the case, but I took the drinks, regardless.

I lost Meggie on my way from the bathroom, once again. There’s a lot more people at this party than usual. Me being alone only causes me to think:
Why am I here?
This is what I do. At night, I get wasted and feel great laughing and having a good time. Unfortunately, when I wake up in the morning, I feel even shittier than I did the night before. Not just the hangover, either. I’m stuck in bed going over every little thing, everything I ever said to John, and everything we ever
did.

I find myself wandering around the party, looking lost. Then I make my way back to the bathroom. The door finally opens and Tyler practically runs into me.

“Oh, hey.” He laughs. “Fancy meeting you here.” He leans on the doorjamb, blocking my entrance. His face lingers maybe a little too close to mine. The scent on his breath is straight beer.

“Are you fucked up?” I ask.

“Not yet. You?”

“Same.” The room is spinning, but my mind can still think. That’s how I determine whether I’m drunk or not – on how my brain functions.

“Here, come with me.” He slips back into the bathroom, pulling me with him by my wrist and closes the door behind us. “This will give you a really good buzz, like nothing you’ve ever felt before.”

“Really?”

“I promise.” He winks at me.

I just want to feel again, anything. I want my heart to pump with something other than hurt; feel something other than broken. I look at Tyler’s outstretched hand and see the little pill in his palm. Everything inside me is saying no, but my heart is so desperate to feel again that I grab it. I pop the pill into my mouth and swallow. Tyler kisses me. I feel his tongue inside my mouth, his hand behind my head.

I don’t know how long we stand there in the dirty bathroom kissing, but eventually, I pull away. I spin on my heels and open the door, attempting to find Meggie again. I discover my best friend by the keg. She’s talking to another one of the football players. He’s not even a starter – I couldn’t tell you his name. I blink; my vision is beginning to get hazy. I’m not sure I could tell you anyone’s name in this room right now.

“Bee! There you are. Where have you been?” She comes right over to me, her boy toy trailing behind.

“I think I’m going to go home.”

“Why? We practically just got here.”

“I… I need to go home.”