Awakening (Covenant College #1) (12 page)

BOOK: Awakening (Covenant College #1)
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Will seemed to notice me before
Brittany
and tried to disengage himself from her arms (when had she grown eight of them?). “Zoe,” he sputtered. “I was looking for you.”

“You were looking hard, I can tell,” I didn’t want to act like I was jealous, but I was so far gone at this point I couldn’t mask my emotions.

Brittany
narrowed her eyes as she regarded me. “He shouldn’t’ have to go looking for you,” she announced. “A real girlfriend wouldn’t just leave a stud like this alone.” She smiled adoringly at Will.

“Stud?
Is he a horse now? If you think that, you’re going to be sorely disappointed when he gets you into bed.”

My remarks were biting – but Will had known me long enough to realize now was not the time to pick a fight he could never win.

Brittany
was either too drunk – or too oblivious – to care.

“You should just chill. We’re just having a good time.”

I noticed she was having a hard time standing up straight. We hadn’t been here long enough for her to get that falling down drunk.

“What are you on?”

“What?”
Brittany
seemed confused.

“What are you on?
Acid?”
It looked like she was having trouble focusing.

“I would never smoke acid.”

I was too concerned about
Brittany
to completely drop the hammer on her, but I couldn’t let her lack of drug knowledge go without commenting. “You drop acid. You don’t smoke it.” I grabbed her arm and dragged her away from Will – narrowing my eyes at him suspiciously as I did so. “Did one of your frat brothers put something in her drink?”

Will looked genuinely shocked.
“Of course not.”

Just because Will didn’t believe they were capable of such an act didn’t convince me.

“We’re leaving,” I told
Brittany
pointedly.

“I am not. I’m having a good time.” She slurred her words.

“No, we’re leaving. I don’t care what you want.”

Paris had made her way to my side and was grabbing
Brittany
’s other arm.

“Just put her inside and let her sleep it off,” Will offered lamely.

“Absolutely not.
I don’t trust these assholes as far as I can throw them.”

I noticed that
Aric
had arrived on the front porch and was eyeing me curiously. When did he get here?
Brittany
’s sharp intake of breath when she caught sight of him would have been comical at another time. “Who is that?”

I regarded
Aric
dubiously. “He’s the guy who’s going to help us get home.”

If
Aric
was surprised at my pronouncement he didn’t say anything. Instead, he walked towards
Brittany
and scooped her up in his arms like she weighed nothing.

“Let’s go,” he made eye contact with me briefly before starting to move off the front porch.

Will was staring at
Aric
hatefully. He didn’t say anything, though. In fact, I noticed that while none of the fraternity brothers seemed happy to see
Aric
, not one of them was willing to get near him. Instead, the sea of people magically parted as
Aric
made his way down the steps.

Paris and I followed him quietly. Tara saw that we were leaving and scurried down the steps behind us. “What happened?” She was confused. Where had she been all this time?

“Let’s just say
Brittany
and I
are
going to have a long talk tomorrow and leave it at that for now?”

Tara nodded in surprise. But, for a second, I saw something darker lurking in the corners of her eyes. Okay, maybe I just imagined that. This whole night was getting weird.
 

 

Thirteen

The walk home was awkward, and
Aric
didn’t even bother with the pretense of idle chatter. I couldn’t shut off my inner monologue, though.

“What’s up with your fraternity brothers?” Apparently I couldn’t shut off my outer monologue either.

Aric
didn’t even bother looking at me. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, what was up with that party? There were like twice as many guys there as girls and it was like they were trying to double up on all the women.” I didn’t mention that it had smelled like sex to me. I figured that was more of a comment on me than anything else, and I didn’t want him to think I was a nymphomaniac or anything.

“It was weird,” Paris echoed.

“I didn’t even notice.” Tara still seemed confused.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,”
Aric
answered evasively.
Brittany
looked like dead weight in his arms, but he wasn’t complaining about carrying her so I didn’t offer to help.

When we got to the dorms, Paris, Tara and I extricated
Brittany
from him.

“I can carry her all the way upstairs,” he offered.

“We got it.”

Aric
shrugged and left without saying goodbye. Why that irked me, I had no idea.

It took us ten minutes to get
Brittany
up to our dorm room. I didn’t bother trying to get her in anything more comfortable than what she was already wearing. Instead I just dumped her on the floor in the main room – making sure she rested on her side in case she had to throw up.

“Shouldn’t we put her to bed?” Tara asked nervously.

“We’re not strong enough to lift her onto the top bunk and I’m not going to bother anyone to help us. She’ll be fine.”

Tara must have decided it wasn’t worth arguing about because we all went to bed without exchanging another word.

The next morning,
Brittany
looked like death warmed over and she was sitting in the middle of the floor holding her head when we all got up.

“How are you feeling?” Tara knelt down next to her kindly.

“Like I’ve been run over.”

“How much did you drink?” Paris asked gently.

“I only had one cup.”

I pursed my lips. “One cup couldn’t have done that to you.”

Brittany
glared up at me. “Are you calling me a liar?”

“No, just a slut.”

Yep. It was time for the fight I’d been warding off for days.

“Excuse me! I am not a slut.”

“Then why were you hanging all over my boyfriend?”

Brittany
looked confused. “I was not!”

“We all saw you.”

Brittany
looked to Tara and Paris for support. They both steadfastly avoided her gaze. “I don’t even remember talking to Will.”

“Really?
Then you probably don’t remember hanging all over him? Or calling him a stud? Or telling me I was a bad girlfriend because I didn’t give him enough attention?”

I was a steamroller at this point.

“No, I don’t,”
Brittany
bit her lower lip to keep from crying. Well, that wasn’t going to work on me.

“So it was just a coincidence that you wanted a fraternity boy and you decided to hit on mine?”

“I didn’t. . . I don’t . . . why would you . . . I don’t know what you’re talking about,”
Brittany
mumbled.

Paris stepped in at this point. “Maybe she was drugged?” She offered.

The thought had actually occurred to me, but I was so infused with righteous indignation right now that I refused to acknowledge the possibility.

“You’re taking her side?”

Paris straightened as she stood up. “There are no sides.”

“Of course there are,” I seethed. “There’s the side of the roommate that swooped in to save the slut and that of the slut.”

Paris hardened her icy eyes as she registered my anger. “Maybe you should take a walk and let us talk to
Brittany
.”

“Great!
Sounds great!”
I stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind me as I went. They could all go to hell as far as I was concerned.

I stalked down the hall and was halfway to the elevator before I realized I was still in my flannel boxer shorts and a tank top (without a bra). There was nowhere I could really go.

At the end of the hall I started pacing the small room where the elevator opened. I couldn’t believe this was happening.

The elevator dinged and I turned to it expectantly. A dark haired girl with extremely pale skin stepped off. I’d seen her in the hallway before. I had never talked to her, though.

At first, the girl moved past me without saying a word. When she saw I wasn’t getting on the elevator, though, she paused. “Are you alright?”

“Compared to what?” I asked bitterly.

The girl took a sip of the coffee she was carrying and regarded me with her solemn blue eyes. “You want to talk about it?”

“About what?
What a slut my roommate is?” Or what an idiot I was for thinking this whole Will thing was going to work out?

“Which roommate?”

“What?”

“Which roommate is a slut?”


Brittany
.”

The girl looked surprised.
“The blonde one?”

I blew out a sigh.
“Yeah.”

“She doesn’t strike me as a slut.”

“You know her?”

“No.”

“Then how do you know she’s not a slut?”

“Because she was calling you one the other day.”

“What?” It took every ounce of resolve I had not to stalk right back down the hall and choke
Brittany
with a tampon.

“She was going on and on about you spending the night with your boyfriend and how you were going to end up pregnant.”

“Oh, good grief.”

The girl smirked despite my attitude. “I’m Laura,” she extended her hand in greeting. I took it without realizing what I was doing.

“I’m Zoe.”

“I know. Everyone knows you.”

“How?”

“You’re not exactly quiet.” Well, that was true.

I let out another long suffering sigh and then sank to the floor with my back against the wall. I had nowhere to go -- and I was definitely not going back to the room yet.

Laura sat on the floor next to me and looked at me expectantly. The next thing I knew, I’d unloaded all of my frustrations from the past week on her. I told her about Will. I told her about
Brittany
. I even told her about my run-ins with Rafael and
Aric
. The only thing I left out was my weird interaction with Professor Blake.

After listening for about 20 minutes Laura surprised me with her response. “Sounds like it could be a book.”

“What?” Any anger I had been internalizing seemed to have fizzled during my diatribe.

“It sounds like a book,” she reiterated.

“I don’t get what you mean.”

“You’re a woman torn between three men. Two are dark and dangerous. One you’ve known forever, but he’s become someone – actually something – that you don’t even recognize.”

I took in Laura’s flushed faced and sparkling eyes and bit back a harsh retort. “Let me guess, you’re a romantic?”

“Well . . . yes,” Laura acknowledged.

“Well, let me just clarify things for you,” I said matter-of-factly. “This isn’t romantic. It’s weird. The whole thing is just weird. There are these weird lurking guys . . .”

“Incredibly hot guys,” Laura interjected.

“They’re still lurking about. If a serial killer is hot he’s still a serial killer.”

Laura had the grace to look appropriately chastised.

“Then we have the guy I’ve been with since I was fourteen acting like a freak and living with a bunch of freaks.”

Laura wisely let me continue.

“Then there’s my very prim roommate who desperately needs to get some, but apparently wants to get some with my boyfriend – a boyfriend that I can’t even decide if I want anymore,” I finished lamely.

“Things could be worse,” Laura offered.

“How?”

“You could be in love with a vampire.”

The conversation had taken a decidedly uncomfortable turn. “I’m sorry?”

“You could be in love with a vampire. Like Edward from ‘Twilight.’”

“If I’m going to fall for a guy that sparkles he better at least look like he bathes,” I grumbled.

Laura ignored my
snarkiness
.

“Or poor Dracula.
He was just so misunderstood and everyone thought he was a monster and he really had no way to control himself.”

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