Uncovering You: The Complete Series (Mega Box Set) (191 page)

“Celeste!” James exclaims when he sees me. He puts down the drink he’s making and hops right over the bar like a hockey player jumping the bench.

The move elicits some surprise from the crowd, but I hardly notice. My eyes are glued to James.

Shit, he looks good.

He’s wearing a deep, ocean blue button down and killer matching jeans. He’s got a bit of scruff on his face, and his hair is just a touch messy. Accenting his figure is a sleek black belt.

This
is the James I’ve come to know… and the one who tricked me into falling in love.

I’m glad all his other students get to glimpse this side of him.

“Professor Landon.” Summer smiles and puts her hip to one side, cutting a dashing silhouette. “How good to see you.”

“James,” he corrects, without giving her a second glance.

His attention is all on me.

He grabs me by the waist and pulls me to him.

With everybody watching, he seals my lips with a heated kiss.

A round of applause explodes around us when he lets go. I blush furiously.

“How are you feeling?” he whispers in my ear, his voice carrying just a touch of concern.

“Fine,” I say back, quickly. “Good enough. Today’s a good day.”

He nods, solemn for a brief second, and then it’s all smiles again as he turns his attention away.

“It’s good to see you here, Summer,” he says, clasping her hand. “I wasn’t certain you’d show, considering the circumstances
.”

My stomach sinks. Have they been talking behind my back?

Summer gives a predatory smile. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” she tells him. She takes a drink off the counter. “I do want to pass your class. That was the arrangement, was it not? Show up here, receive a passing grade?” She sips the cocktail. “How very generous of you,
James
. You have my thanks.”

And then she leans in, kisses him on the cheek, and turns away into the crowd.

He looks at me. “Do you know what that was about?”

I shake my head. “I haven’t the slightest idea.”

Somebody calls his name. He looks over his shoulder. “I’ve got to play the part of host tonight,” he whispers. “Are you good on your own?”

“I’ll manage,” I say.

“Here,” he presses a small key in my hand. “This opens my bedroom door upstairs. If you’re feeling tired, go up there. I’ll see you there before the night’s over.”

Then he pinches my ass, making me jump, and steps away.

I pick up another unclaimed drink—James has been making them and leaving them up on the bar—then go off to see if I can find Summer.

But my search is interrupted real quick by the squeal of my name. I look back and see a group of girls I kind-of, vaguely, sort-of know rushing toward me, looking scandalized and excited all at once.

“Celeste!” the first exclaims. She’s a tall, tanned, leggy blonde who obviously put more effort into her appearance tonight than I ever have in my life. “We heard rumors Professor Landon was hooking up with a secret girl from one of his classes… but we had no idea it was
you
!”

I cringe and hate the way she says that, as if I’m somehow less deserving of James’s affection than any of them.

“Girl, why didn’t you tell us?”

“Oh, you know,” I say, plastering on a fake smile. “Some secrets necessitate a grand reveal.”

I take a sizeable gulp of my cocktail, and make pretend we’re all the greatest of friends.

13.

The party picks up at eleven. The lights all go out, except for the flashing strobes, and the DJ begins his live set.

It’s hysteria on the dance floor with so many bodies clustered together. It feels almost like a rave. I keep having shots with those girls who caught me earlier. I know it’s a bad idea what with chemo and all—but one night out shouldn’t kill me.

I hope.

I see no sign of Summer. But it doesn’t take me long to forget her. The drinks are going down smoothly, the music is amazing, I feel freer than I have in months, and I’m surrounded by a gaggle of new fake besties.

There’s just something about totally letting loose and forgoing all inhibitions that is very, very cathartic. I’d denied myself the opportunity since getting news of my cancer. But tonight marks the end of one very lonesome stage of my life—and the transition into entirely another.

Together with James.

I catch glimpses of him here and there as the party goes on. But every time I try to find him, he’s like a ghost: Here one second, gone the next.

I finger the key he gave me and don’t bother worrying. Let him see to his fans.
I’m
the one he’s going home to at the end of the night.

So I call for more shots, just like I used to in college, and dance and flirt the night away with all my brand-new best friends.

***

Things start to blur.

The faces melt together. All I see are flashing lights and distorted imagery.

I keep dancing.

My brain’s long since turned off, but I’m having so much damn fun I can’t stop to worry about anything. I have fewer inhibitions than only alcohol would account for. Maybe that should frighten me.

Vaguely, I wonder if someone could have spiked my drink. But it’s a passing, fleeting, stupid concern.

I’m in James’s apartment. I’m safe here. Nothing bad can happen.

***

Less than an hour later, I begin thinking something is seriously wrong.

And this time, it has
nothing
to do with my cancer.

I’m conscious, but I can’t tell up from down. I keep losing track of myself. I’m only dimly aware of my surroundings. I can barely remember where or even
who
I am.

The music, the bodies, the lights, all of them blend together into one amorphous blob of sensation. It swallows me whole. No longer do I feel in control.

Sounds start to frighten me. I see terrifying masks on every single person’s face. My grip on reality is slipping, and I am helpless to stop it.

I want to break down and cry, but I’m gripped at the same time by such a stunning euphoria that all I can do is keep dancing.

I don’t
see
anyone. I don’t
know
anything. I lose myself in the never-ending assault on my sense.

I stumble and fall. Instead of getting up, I just lie there. The floor feels nice.

My eyes drift closed involuntarily.

***

I wake in a flash, paralyzed by fear. Where am I? What am I doing here? What—

I look around me. The party’s still going on. Fuck, the DJ’s even playing the same song as when I fell.

But I’m not on the dance floor anymore. I’m on the sidelines in a cushioned seat.

“Say, you’ve got to be more careful out there, honey,” a sickly sweet voice says in my ear.

I look over. My eyes nearly bug out of my head when I see Angela.

“You!” I try to say. But the word that leaves my lips is nothing more than a slur.

“Yes, yes,” she says, patting my head. “Close your eyes now, sweetie. Rest. Sleep. You need it.” She gets up and checks her phone. She points it toward me, but I can’t make out whatever is on the screen. “I’ll be back in an hour. You should be fine until then.”

She slips into the mass of bodies like an eel into the reeds.

I can’t follow her. I can barely move my arms or legs. My head lolls from one side to the other in a drunken sort of stupor. But this is worse than being blacked out. It…it…

I don’t know what it is.
Thinking
is hard.

It’s so much easier to just close my eyes and let darkness take hold.

14.

Something’s happening to me. I’m being moved, or… something.

I can’t tell.

Everything is blurry when I open my eyes.

Strong hands. I feel strong hands. Holding me, touching me,
caressing
me.

Leading me away.

I follow the lead. James is taking me somewhere, I think. James is…

In a moment of utter clarity I see I’m being led not by James, but by a horrible stranger.

Alarm rips through me. I don’t know who the hell he is. He’s walking me toward the doors, out the apartment—

“Let go of me!” I shriek, ripping away. Shock flits across his face. “Let go of me, you fucking asshole! Let go of me, what are you doing, where are you taking me, what…”

By then my screeching’s attracted attention. People turn to us.

The man, not so confident anymore, lets go.

I stagger and fall into a pair of girls. They hold me up. I blink once, twice—the man is gone. He’s run.

I feel abruptly sick. That awful, familiar feeling grips my stomach.

I’m going to hurl.

“Excuse me,” I mutter, pushing off and running straight for the bathroom. There’s a line. I curse, and switch directions to the second floor. I stagger up the stairs, use James’s key to get in his bedroom and make it within five feet of the toilet before spewing all over myself.

***

I can still hear the sounds of the party, long after I’ve managed to clean up.

My head is spinning.
Now
I feel drunk. All the memories of the night fight for the appropriate attention in my mind. Each one wants to stand out and take the limelight.

None of them do.

I’m exhausted. I could have been
raped.

I step out of my clothes and crawl into James’s bed. Music drifts through the floor. Bass pounds against the walls.

I think I’m going to have an impossible time falling asleep… but fade to black the second my head hits the pillow.

15.

I wake groggy and feeling like absolute shit the next morning.

I look around the room. I’m alone.

James didn’t come to bed.

I wonder why. I bet the party got out of control, and he crashed downstairs. That’s okay, but—

Christ
. I hold my head. It hurts like a mother-effer.

I need some water. I get up, stumble toward the bathroom, open the door…

And nearly gag all over again when I whiff the stench.

Holy fucking
shit, I think, seeing the vomit on the floor. My clean-up efforts last night were not exactly meticulous.

Maybe it’s a good thing James never made it upstairs.

I splash water over my face rinse my mouth, drink a bit from the tap, and set about remedying the mess I made.

***

An indeterminate amount of time later, I finish up. The bathroom is sparkling clean. The smell lingers a bit, but there’s nothing to do about that except wait it out.

I go back to the bedroom. My headache’s a bit better, and much of the grogginess is gone.

I look out the window. The city is coated in a layer of white. Everything is peaceful on Saturday morning.

Hard to believe I’ve already spent half a year in Chicago. Hard to believe how much things have changed in half a year. From Summer, to James, to cancer—

Then I remember:
Shit, chemo!

I check the time. I can still make it.

But is it a good idea to do it while hung over?

I quickly decide that I don’t know, and I don’t care. I’ll ask the doctor when I arrive. I promised James I wouldn’t be a passive passenger any more.

For him. For
us
.

So I’ve got to do everything I can to live up to that promise.

I get dressed and rush out the room—and come to a staggering halt when I see what greets me on the lower level.

The apartment is wrecked. It’s like the mansion in Klass’s remix of Haddaway’s
What is Love
music video. Jesus, there are bodies everywhere. On the floor, on the couches, some on the stairs. Empty bottles litter the floor.

I spot a couple still going at it in one corner.

James sure knows how to host a party
, I think. But there’s no way I’m finding him now.

I text him that I’m going to the hospital, pick my way to the elevator, and hail a cab on the street.

***

I don’t hear from James for the remainder of the day. That’s fine. I’m sure he has his hands full sorting out the mess.

I want to go see him, but I can’t. With exams starting Monday, I can’t afford any distractions.

One week left. I’ve got to ace it.

And then, I can run away with James wherever… for however long fate gives us.

16.

Sunday goes by without a word from James, either. I think it a little strange, but I don’t really have the time to consider. Exam prep and last-minute cramming sessions fueled by coffee and Bronkaid are all I can devote time to.

***

I start to get a little concerned about James Monday afternoon.

It’s been nearly three days without a word from him. I’ve tried calling, and he hasn’t picked up.

I consider going over after getting out of my first exam, trailed by Summer. In fact, I’m just about to turn toward his place when she grabs my arm.

“Wow!” she exclaims. “That was something, huh? One down, two to go. Plus the written papers. Of course, Professor Landon’s exam tomorrow is
canceled
… but I still think we have to show up.” She bats her eyelashes at me. “Don’t you?”

Something about her behavior feels off. Before I can put my finger on it, she tugs me the other way.

“Come on, Celeste. Let’s grab some treats from the coffee shop to celebrate. After, you can quiz me on the material from Professor Kirkland’s class.”

I shoot a longing look over my shoulder in the direction of James’s building… but one more tug from Summer makes me give in.

“Yeah, k,” I say. “Seems like a good idea.”

***

Tuesday morning I’m buzzing. I’d just gotten up after a solid fourteen hours of sleep.

I crashed the moment Summer and I got home from the coffee shop. My body needed to catch up.

I’m most excited, however, because today I’ll see James. This is our last class together. The one where we were supposed to write our exam, before he canceled it.