Bad Intentions (28 page)

“Holy smokes! You’re going to be famous.” I see a gleam of interest flash in his eyes. “Babe, be proud of yourself for once. You carry this team, whether you want to admit it or not. You deserve this.”

“I hear ya. Come on let’s go back to my place.”

“You’re not going to shower here?” I ask, curious. He always showers here after a game. Ryle swings me into the circle of his arms. It’s my favorite place.

His gaze settles on me before his mouth opens. “We’re going to shower at my place.”

There’s a trace of laughter stitched in my voice. “But I’m not dirty.”

He tugs his hand away from mine and leans down. I watch him intently, wondering what in the world he’s doing. He straightens up with dirt caking the tips of his fingers.

“Oh, no! You better not.” Before I can dodge his hand, he smears dirt across the bridge of my nose. His fingers move to my cheeks, and just like that, I’m dirty. “You don’t play fair.”

“Yes I do. You just watched me win that game fair and square.”

“Asshole.” I mutter, while rubbing the dirt from my face and wiping my hands on his chest.

“I never claimed to be anything but. Good thing you heart me, huh?”

My heart pitter-patters in my chest as I look into his sincere eyes and nod. “Come on A-Rod, let’s go shower.” He laces my fingers with his and we head toward the locker room to retrieve his bag.

That was the best shower I’ve ever had,
I think as I towel dry my hair and stare in the mirror at a very naked Ryle. Full frontals are the best.

“You didn’t have to rub dirt all over my face,” I laugh. “You know I would have gotten into the shower with you.”

“Yeah. I know, but you looked so cute with a brown nose.”

I slide open a drawer on the right side of his vanity. It houses a small collection of my items – a brush…toothpaste… I run my hands through my tangled hair and feel a pair of lips kiss the back of my head. “What was that for?”

“For being here. For caring about me despite my flaws. For never missing a home game.”

I sense his vulnerability as I turn around and place my lips against his. “I’m here for the long haul. You don’t have to worry about me leaving. It’s me who is worried that you’re going to go pro and leave me in the dust.”

Oh, the joys of teenage insecurities.

“Remember that movie we saw…what was it? The boat one.” I watch as he draws his lips in.

“Titanic?”

“Yes, that one. If you sink, I sink.”

I throw my head back and let out an enormous laugh. “That’s not the line, but I applaud you for your efforts. I’m sorry for bringing it up. I don’t want to tarnish tonight— your big night—with my silliness. Get dressed, and let’s go celebrate babe.”

Within fifteen minutes, we’re dressed and walking hand-in-hand toward Ryle’s car. We listen to the radio as he drives to Tank’s dorm. We are not surprised to see that the outside of the building is littered with students. Braxton wasn’t advertised as a party college, but hey, I’m not complaining. It’s been the best experience of my life.

We park the car around the back of the building, because Ryle’s always worried that his precious baby is going to get scratched. As we near the door, we hear people shouting. It’s not out of the normal, but it gets our attention.

“Zo-e!”

“Zo-e!”

My eyes widen as I see Zoe’s legs being held in the air, her mouth full of plastic. She’s doing a keg stand.
Nice.
It’s going to be one of those nights. Since I took a vow of sobriety, I’ve basically been designated as the campus babysitter. Ryle and I have taken home umpteen drunken idiots in the last few weeks. It seems like with each win the boys bring home, the partiers get more wasted. At the last party we attended, we stopped two cat fights and interrupted a dude peeing off the balcony.

The alcohol is flowing, which means things are sure to escalate fast.

“Let’s go over there,” Ryle says as he points to the most unpopulated corner of the room. Taking Adaley’s hand, he guides her through a mosh pit full of people dancing like maniacs.

“Shesh.” Adaley says as she cuddles up next to his side. “This is insane. To think that I used to be one of those girls.” Ryle follows her pointed finger to a duo of drunken sorority girls shaking their moneymakers on top of a wooden slab.

“See why I got so pissed that night?”

“Calm down, killer. My feet are planted firmly on the floor tonight.”

The party commences and continues until the wee hours of the night. With his phone in hand, Ryle makes sure that people either call a cab or hitch a ride with someone who isn’t plastered. If there’s one thing he hates to see, it is drunks and druggies. To this day he’s never taken a sip of alcohol or swallowed a pill that was stronger than an Ibuprofen. In his mind, they impair people all the same.

“Come on baby, I think that’s the last of everyone.”

“Wait, where’d Zoe go?” Adaley’s eyes frantically roam the room searching for her friend.

“I made her a cot on Tank’s floor. They’re both passed out.”

She strokes his forearm. “I don’t know how I got so lucky.”

“I do.” He winks and wraps his arm around her shoulders. “Let’s get you home. I have an early day at the center tomorrow, and I want to make sure you’re tucked in.”

“You’re so sweet,” she whispers, leaning her head on his shoulder.

Very sober and very tired, Ryle helps Adaley into the car and then heads toward her dorm. It’s a short drive, but by the time he pulls up in front of her building, she is sound asleep. Not wanting to wake her, he picks up her tiny body and cradles her to his chest. Adaley relaxes in his embrace and, as he rides the elevator up to her floor, he is careful not to wake her. Ryle curses under his breath as he realizes her dorm door isn’t locked. He feels like he’s warned her a hundred times about it.

I know what guys my age are capable of.

Using his foot to close the door behind him, he lays Adaley on her bed and removes her sandals.

He leans forward and kisses her forehead. “Goodnight, Adaley. I heart you,” he whispers, assuming that she’s dead to the world.

“I love you,” she mutters in her sleep, lifting her arm over her head.

Ryle is momentarily frozen in shock. She
loves
him? He debates waking her up and begging her to say it to his face. The sound of something tumbling to the floor grabs his attention. With a sweep of his hand, he picks up a pill bottle from the floor. Reading the label, he finds out that Adaley has an empty prescription of Hydrocodone. In a rush, he fumbles with the bottle. He pulls out his cell phone and searches the drug’s name.

Hydrocodone is an opioid pain medication. An opioid is sometimes called a narcotic.

Adaley has been taking a prescription drug, and he didn’t know about it? Why is she on this? How did he miss the fact that his own girlfriend was on drugs? Question after question runs rapidly through his mind until his face is red and his body is trembling.

She knows how he feels about drugs and people who use them. She knows what happened to his biological mother, yet she still kept her use a secret. An anger that he didn’t know he could process flares. Tossing the bottle onto the bed, he turns and marches to the door. Flinging it open, he tilts his head and takes one last look at the girl he’d thought he was in love with.

Love was deceiving. He knew it then, and he knows it now. Adaley is living proof of that.

“I
feel like death.” Zoe moans.

“You look like a zombie, so I totally believe you.”

“Why are you so damn chipper?” She stretches in her bed, exposing an ample amount of skin.

“I don’t know. I guess I slept good.” I shrug. “Ryle’s at the center this morning, so do you want to shower and go get something to eat?”

“Sure. Just give me ten.”

I watch as Zoe pulls herself upright and saunters to the bathroom. I wonder how many keg stands she did. I of all people, know that they’re bad for your health.

Making my bed, I notice my pill bottle lid is lying on the floor, and the empty bottle is resting on my blanket.
Strange.
I finish tidying up my side of the room and pull a sweater over my head.

“Zoe, are you alive?” No answer. “If I have to come wash your back, I’m going to be mad!” I hear a soft moan. It’s not a verbal answer, but I know that she’s still kickin’.

I blow out a huff of air and sit in the computer chair. Looking at my phone, the battery is almost in the red. I plug it into my laptop and hit my message app. There are no new messages. Ryle always texts me
good morning
. Maybe he was running late.

Me: Morning babe.

I spin around in my chair and wait for his response. After a few seconds with no response, I text him again.

Me: Thx for tucking me in. I feel amazing this morning. You’re prob busy with Richie. Tell him I said hi and call me later. <3 U.

After a few minutes of spinning aimlessly, Zoe finally emerges from the bathroom looking a little more alive. “She’s alive!”

“Shh… I need quiet.” Grabbing her purse, she swings it over her neck and walks toward the door. We walk in silence toward the café near our building. It’s too chilly to sit outside and enjoy our coffee, so we walk back toward our dorm.

“I thought Mississippi was hot year-round.”

Taking a sip from her drink she looks up. “We all have our good days and bad days.” Her response seems more about her current state of mind than the actual weather.

We spend the rest of the afternoon binge watching rom-coms and sipping homemade root beer floats. Classy, I know.

“Where’s Ryle? You two are normally connected at the hip.”

I shoot her a sneer. “Whatever! We just like to hang out. Don’t hate.”

“Oh, trust me. I’m not hating. It gives me and Kaiser time to screw on every surface in this room. He’s been acting different lately, so I’ve been trying to show him a lot of affection, if you know what I mean.”

I look around. There are only two beds, two desks and a mini fridge. “Please tell me you didn’t bang on my bed?”

“Your bed, no. Your desk, yes.”

“That is so wrong.”

Tank swings open our door. “What’s so wrong?” he asks as he strolls in and plops down on my bed.

“Your sister had sex on my desk.”

His nose scrunches, and he lets out an agonizing moan. “Was it with Kaiser?” Zoe nods, and he continues. “Well at least it wasn’t with that quack, Brad.”

“You guys are so weird.” I need some space, or my brain is going to explode. “Tank, have you seen Ryle today?”

“Sure have, little lady.”

“Did you go to the center?” I pry.

“Nope. Getting shot up while walking down the street isn’t really my thing.”

Anxiety twists in my gut. I know Ryle can handle himself, but what if some punks jumped him or something awful happened? I decide to drive out there and see if everything is okay. I hit my Internet app and type in the name of the center. The address populates, and I grab my keys and purse. “I’ll be back guys. I have some errands to run.”

They nod, and I’m out the door, speed walking to my car. With my GPS turned on, I pull onto the road. It takes me a little longer to get to my destination than it did when Ryle drove us. He knows these roads like the back of his hand. I on the other hand do not, and to tell you the truth, I’m a little scared to venture to the
rough
side of town alone.