Adam's List (12 page)

Using Adam’s avoidance trick, I send him a text rather than calling, saying I’m too tired for a night out (just as Kelly’s pulling me through the sorority house door in the 3-inch, red-soled designer heels she got as a hand-me-down from her millionaire aunt).

I tug at the hem of the little black dress I bought for my high school graduation, not too surprised that it’s suddenly tight around my toned thighs. I haven’t worn a dress since attending my one and only mixer last fall, and I quite honestly feel more naked than dressed. Kelly curled my hair into loose waves that cascade over my bare shoulders dusted in shimmer.

Kelly’s cobalt blue dress covers a bit less than mine, its thin straps skimping across the sides of her shoulders and the hem stopping above her knees. I watched her twist and pin her brown locks for all of ten minutes before I was baffled by her mad hair skills.

She looks amazing, like some kind of freaking supermodel.

We pass a cluster of girls near the entrance dressed in leggings and cowgirl boots.

Not the usual fare for these kinds of parties.

I stare after them. “This is a semi formal, right? Are you sure we shouldn’t be wearing ten gallon hats and stick grass between our teeth?”

Kelly huffs while pushing her way through more of the same redneck attire. “Who gives a shit? You’re a total knockout in that dress!” A few guys in sports jackets follow us with their eyes as we pass by, one of them giving a low wolf-whistle. Kelly nudges me.

“See? It’s irrelevant.”

As Kelly has a thing for being fashionably late, the house is already packed shoulder-to-shoulder. A DJ with a pretty complex lighting system heads up the far end of the party room, blasting Jay-Z through a collection of tall speakers as bright lights flash everywhere. Some of the crowd jumps up and down to the beat, creating a lazy wave of heads in front of him. A pathetic display of bright streamers and balloons drape from the ceiling as the house’s sole decoration.

We push our way through the warm bodies until reaching the bar where Matt and his fraternity brothers huddle. Matt greets us with a, “Well,
hellooo
, ladies!” and extra drinks already in hand. Kelly rests her hand over the buttons on Matt’s dress shirt as she leans in to whisper something in his ear. His free hand rubs the lower half of her exposed back as a longing grin pulls at his lips. I shuffle away into the crowd with my drink in hand, feeling like I just caught them making out. Which they’ll probably do shortly.

I recognize a few faces from other parties we’ve been to, as well as seeing a few fellow students. The overall chatter is a low murmur against the thumping music, but filling up into the high-ceilings just the same. The only thing I like anymore about these parties is the architecture inside the old homes. The complex oak woodwork with circled patterns and deep grooves reminds me of going to see my grandparents in their big farm home when I was little.

Thankfully, the sorority sisters are much more strict on the no smoking rule. The only smells tonight are that of spilled drinks, an atrocious blend of perfumes and colognes meant to seduce, a bit of ripe body odor, and the musk that comes with old houses. It’s a medley of stenches that can only be experienced with the thousands of dollars that are dropped into a college experience. I almost prefer the smoke.

Sipping on the clear liquid from Matt, I grimace. It’s vodka and lemon-lime soda, probably my least favorite drink after gin. One of Matt’s brothers, I think his name is Dean, appears at my side. Built like Matt, he’s tall and well-toned with dark hair styled into a neat faux-hawk. He wears a tan jacket over a white button down and khakis. He’s just like the other brothers, prim and proper, yet pretty full of himself and an innovative leader in the partying department.

“
That
looks appetizing. Here, try this.” He hands me a dark brown liquid.

I take a sip. It tastes like Captain and diet. “Thanks. I think I’m going to get a beer.

One can never have too many carbs!”

Grinning, he takes the drink Matt gave me. “Keep it. You look like you could loosen up a little. It’s Julia, right?”

“
Jewels
. My parents cut to the chase of using a nickname.”

I stare down at the drink. I don’t want to go through the usual routine of getting plastered and worrying about losing Kelly, especially now that I’m interested in Adam and don’t want to blow my chances of being with him. But then I remember the way he looked at me when he said he just wanted to be friends, and I decide something to numb the hurt is exactly what I need.

Dean starts in on small-talk, asking questions about my classes and my major. It’s the same unimportant conversation I’ve had with a hundred guys—nothing but a bunch of artificial niceties when he’d much rather skip to the chase and ask permission to jump into my pants. I can see it in his eyes, the way he lightly touches my bare arm.

I’m only half there for the conversation, answering whatever I can when all I want to do is skip out and find Adam.

After nearly downing the whole drink, I’m amazed how I suddenly feel close to hammered. With an extensive track record like mine, one does
not
get intoxicated from a single drink, but I guess it could be due to the fact that I haven’t drank again since hanging out with Adam. Or maybe Dean poured a double.

The wristlet Kelly loaned me buzzes. Holding the cup in the crook of my arm, I fish out my phone to find a text from Adam.

Thought u said things between us were good

I pull in a stuttering breath. What would make him say that?

My eyes feel heavy. The letters on my phone become a jumbled mess. Drawing my eyebrows down, I type.

They r

A few seconds later he responds.

Stopped by to make sure u r not mad

“Shit,” I mutter. I should’ve just flat out told him that I was going out with my roommate instead of making up a lame lie. But apparently I’ve become an expert at avoiding the truth this past week.

Kel dragged me 2 spring mixer

Pushing the send button becomes a chore when all at once my head feels extremely heavy. I feel a sudden urge to just lie down.

I feel a vibration with another message from Adam, but my eyes won’t focus long enough to make out the words. Random letters blur in and out, making no sense. I slowly bring my head up to watch the people dancing nearby. The room takes on a carnival-quality depth, making them look like they’re a hundred feet off in the distance. I feel like I’m floating, even though my feet are still grounded.

Suddenly feeling dizzy, I stagger.

“Everything okay?” Dean asks.

“It must be these damn heels,” I think I say. Everything takes on a dream-like quality as I look up at Dean, his handsome face swaying in front of me. The music becomes hallow like it’s being played in a garbage can in a garage a block down. I bring a hand up to my head. “Something’s wrong.”

Strong arms wrap around me. “Whoa, take it easy.”

My eyes roll shut. I feel weightless.

I look up at a dimly-lit ceiling in a quiet room. Trying to roll to my side, I realize I’m in a bed and give in to the softness of it. Another wave of unconsciousness follows.

Someone touches my face. I struggle to open my eyes again.

Adam eventually comes into focus. He stands over me, his handsome features marred with worry.

“Am I dreaming?” I ask sleepily, reaching up to touch him.

His face feels warm. Real.

“
Fuck
,” he mutters under his breath before looking over his shoulder. “I think she was drugged.”

Shadows farther back in the room shift. Suddenly, Matt and Kelly stand at his side, as if appearing by magic. My best friend’s eyes are fearful, her cheeks smeared with mascara.

Fear pinches my chest. I choke on a sob. “What?”

She leans down, stroking my forehead. “It’s okay, sweetie. We’re taking you to the hospital.”

Panic makes me more lucid. “
What
?”

If my parents find out, they’ll make me quit school and move home. They’d think I was too weak to be on my own. A raging burn fills me when I think of my entire life being ripped out from underneath me. I can’t go back to living under their constant supervision. My fingers clasp tightly around Kelly’s wrist, using the leverage to sit up.

“No! Just take me home!
Please
! I’m begging you, Kel! Don’t do this to me!”

Adam gently pries my fingers off Kelly and gathers me in his arms. “Everything’s going to be okay, Jewels.”

I snuggle into his chest, breathing in deeply, wishing I had the courage to tell him exactly how I feel. That he’s all I think about anymore, and I can’t ever get enough of him. That I don’t just want to be friends, because just the thought of kissing him makes me feel alive. Like I have something to look forward to again.

“Please, my parents would make me move home if they found out,” I say quietly. “I can’t do it. I can’t go back there.”

Reality weaves in and out.

Flashes of people appear then disappear.

Warm, brawny arms slip behind my legs and back, carrying me.

Muffled conversations trail after me.

Then, the appeasing smell of leather.

I’m in Adam’s Challenger.

Everything goes dark.

SEVEN

My skull swarms violently when I sit up, like I’m plagued with the worst hangover of my life. The sun blasts through our dorm room windows, showing Kelly’s empty bed, her turquoise sheets a mess like they always are whether she’s slept in them or not.

Somehow I ended up in my favorite cotton shorts and pink tank top that I usually wear to bed. Considering my bra is still on, I wonder if Kelly had to help me get undressed.

My eyes fall to the couch. Adam’s sprawled on top, my leopard print blanket from high school draped over his legs. How did he get here? Did I let him in? When I try to remember what I had to drink at the mixer, I vaguely remember talking to Dean, and realize my memories of the party have vanished with the daylight. Fear sinks in. I’ve had plenty of drunken nights where I couldn’t remember vague details, but I’ve never completely blacked it all out.

In addition to having a killer headache, my stomach feels completely out of sorts. It reminds me of the time in elementary school when my parents made me go on an old people’s cruise with them to the Virgin Islands. We took pills that were supposed to help with motion sickness, but they counteracted with my system and I walked around the ship with my hands out at my sides, thinking I was going to crash into the walls. Not only was it the most boring time I’d ever had on a vacation, but I spent half of it in our closet-sized bathroom, puking my guts out. My equilibrium was still messed up for days after we disembarked.

Only now, the feeling is amplified.

“Adam.” I reach for my bone-dry throat. When he doesn’t answer, I try clearing my throat and saying his name louder.

He finally stirs, then bolts upright. “Hey,” he greets me softly with one of his sad, plastic smiles. “How do you feel?”

My head spins like I’ve spent an hour on the world’s most maniacal merry-go-round.

Worse yet, bitter saliva rushes to my mouth with lightning speed. “I think I’m gonna hurl.”

Adam darts across the room to grab the trash can, holding it out next to me just as I hurl. He gathers my hair behind my head as I cradle the garbage between my legs. My body heaves as my stomach continues to empty its contents. I cough and gag, tears of pain burning down my cheeks as Adam rubs my back. It’s bad enough to get sick, but I’m mortified that he’s witnessing me at my absolute worst.

Once I’ve settled and my stomach has calmed, he leaves my side to return with my bath towel from the closet door and a bottle of water from the fridge. “Small sips.”

I wipe my mouth with the towel and take one small pull of the water, shutting my eyes when the cool liquid calms my burning throat. Although I feel like death and must look horrendous, I’m excited to have Adam beside me. I fuss with my hair, hoping to at least tame any flyaway chunks. “What are you doing here? What happened?”

His jaw flexes, almost manically. “Do you remember anything?”

“Not really.” I shake my head with ease so as not to upset my stomach again. “I just remember going to the party with Kel.”

Rubbing at his neck, he glances down before his eyes return to mine. “Jewels, you were drugged last night.”

A trickle of ice cold fear washes over me. I pull my knees up against myself, dragging my sheet up with them. “Was I...I mean, was there sex involved?” My face burns hot as I swallow the giant sob rising in my chest.

“No. At least we’re pretty sure nothing happened.” His nostrils flare. His gaze hops around the room, as if it’s too painful to look directly at me. “The asshole who roofied you swore up and down nothing happened after we said we were calling the cops. You begged us not to take you to the hospital, but we called the ER. They said to keep an eye on your breathing and fill you with liquids. And they said if there’s any reason you think he’s lying...I mean, if you think he did anything to you...that you need to check into the ER right away for a rape kit.”

I lost my virginity almost three years ago and know far too well what it feels like the morning after having sex. The dull aches and tenderness, the swelling. Shifting my weight, I’m positive nothing happened. The only things out of sorts are my head and stomach.

“I don’t need to go,” I say, my face burning. The last thing I need is for my parents to decide I can’t handle college after all, and force me to move home. I don’t have it in me to go back there.

Adam’s body remains tense, on edge. “You sure?” When I really look at him, I notice his lips seem a bit puffier than usual, and there’s a small cut in the corner of them. My gaze travels up to his eyes, finding a bit of discoloration around his left. Frowning, I reach out to brush my fingers against his temple.

“How did this happen?”

He winces a little under my touch, and pulls my hand down. “Don’t worry about it. I’m just glad I got there when I did.”