Dust (5 page)

"So tell me about your family, Liv."

My gaze cut to Killian's. "Really? I guess that's better than asking me about the weather," I muttered. Seemed I wasn't the only one grasping for conversation topics.

He chuckled. "I wouldn't say something that lame."

"How is talking about the weather lame when we're at a
hurricane
relief party?" Damn, why didn't I think about that during my mental struggle?

"You got me there." The mischief in his eyes was actually soothing, and I smiled. "Would it be lame to start off with food instead? You mentioned being allergic to peanuts. Do you have any other food quirks?"

Quirks? I wouldn't classify a life-threatening condition as a quirk. I started to tell him this. Seriously, I did. But instead I said, "Pineapples. I love them cooked. Always eat them on pizza, but I can't eat them raw."

"No raw pineapples. Got it."

"And always on pizza," I said with a raised eyebrow.

"That's not quirky. Lots of people like pineapple on their pizzas. I actually like anchovies.
Nobody
likes anchovies."

Gross! I think I sneered. When he chuckled, I was pretty sure I had.

"So, about your family?" he asked, shifting his stance. "You mentioned your sister passed."

There went my smile.

"Oh, hey, I didn't mean to bum you out. That's all I really know. Tell me something different." He stroked my arm briefly, then shoved his hands into his pockets.

How did I answer that? I didn't feel comfortable telling him my life story, but getting to know someone was part of building a friendship. I figured I could give him the condensed version. Very condensed.

"My childhood was great, um, well, normal, up until my sister was killed. My parents divorced. My dad moved to Dallas, and I moved with my mom to a little Arkansas town. Since then, I've had your basic, co-dependent, therapy-filled life. You?" I shrugged as if what I said was no big deal and took a drink to stall because I knew the facts I'd spewed were not light conversation. I needed to steel myself for his questions. Now he was going to ask how my sister had died, and I'd have to decide how much to tell him. Her death was on my hands. There was no way around that, no matter how much my mom or therapists had said otherwise. The reality of what happened would haunt me until my dying breath.

Maybe the spiked punch would've been a better choice after all.

"I think I can top that," Killian said, devoid of any emotion. "My parents died in a murder-suicide. My mom found out my dad was having an affair." He looked at me then, but his eyes were empty, as if he were back in the memory, living it. "I can still hear her screaming. 'You sick bastard. How could you do this? Over a piece of ass?' So many accusations thrown at him. Then I heard my father roar. Against my instinct to run and hide, I ran to where they were fighting. I watched him kill her, the gun not as loud as I'd have thought, but looking back, I was in shock.

"Then he left. I followed him, not sure what I was going to do. I moved on autopilot. I was normally fucking terrified of my dad, but I think I was going to kill him. He saved me from making that decision by doing it himself. At least that's what the authorities believed. His mistress could've offed him."

Wow. He really was just as damaged as me. He was still looking at me, but not seeing my face. "At least you're not the reason your mom's dead," I said without conscious effort.

He blinked. "Your sister," he said as realization flashed in his expression.

"I killed her." Why were we talking about this? And where was the air in the room? My lungs starved for it.

Frowning, he said, "There's more to it than that." It wasn't a question, but somehow he understood, just knew. Yeah, there was more to it, but it didn't matter. She was dead because of me.

"There you are!" I jumped at the feminine squeal coming from behind. I turned just as Jewel stepped up beside me, a welcome distraction. "Hey, Killian."

"Hey, Jewel. Great job on the party." Killian motioned around the room.

"I helped," another girl said, stepping between Jewel and Killian. She was wearing what appeared to be the standard event uniform of slutty shoes and revealing clothing.

"Oh, hi, Chelsea." Jewel turned to me. "This is Chelsea Channing. She's the member coordinator for the JPS—Junior Philanthropy Society. Chelsea, this is Liv Musgrave, my roommate."

Chelsea's gaze flashed to mine. "Hi." Then she inched closer to Killian and put her hand on his bicep. "Hello, Killian." Her throaty words made Killian arch his eyebrow and me want to roll my mascara-less eyes. I didn't have any personal experience with this kind of behavior, but I could spot a slut a mile away.

"Hi." He smiled at her, and she beamed up at him. He lifted his hand and tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear.

I suddenly felt like a third wheel.

"Um, Chelsea, I think we should check on the raffle baskets before we start the auction." Jewel frowned at her, and my resolve toward Roommate Barbie lessened. She got points for seeming offended on my behalf. Even though I wasn't on a date with Killian, Chelsea didn't know that.

"Jewel, that's what we have newbies for. Let them do the grunt work. I want to mingle," Chelsea said without taking her gaze off Killian. He winked at her.

Well
.

Jewel suddenly squeaked and whirled. Some dude was laughing behind her.

"Did you just grab my ass?" Only she didn't sound offended. Okay, Roommate Barbie just lost the points she'd earned. Giggling at an assault was an automatic deduction.

"That's his style. Groping without permission," Killian said as he crossed his arms over his chest and glared at this guy.

Dude in question looked up, seemingly unaffected by Killian's sudden mood change. "Hi, Kill. They change your aggression meds after you attacked me?"

I stared wide-eyed at Killian. Was this the guy he threw a desk at in class? Or did he make a habit of attacking people who pissed him off? He looked down at me without emotion before giving the dude his undivided attention. "Fuck off, Gabe. I'm not going to let you bait me again."

Gabe laughed. "Same ol' Kill." Then he grasped Jewel's hand. "Wanna dance?"

She glanced back and forth between the guys. "Um, sure." Then she looked at me. "I'll see you later. Have fun."

Yeah, right. I was already in an uncomfortable situation before slutty chick started hitting on my escort—not date, and not honestly a real friend,
yet
—and now some guy was pushing his buttons. Maybe this was just a regular Friday night for normal people. I wasn't normal, but this was all kinds of messed up.

I downed the rest of my drink as Jewel and Gabe left, seeking a distraction, an excuse. "I need to use the restroom."

Killian relaxed. "It's right down that hall. Just a few feet away." I looked to the side and felt instantly relieved when I didn't have to push through crowds of people to find it. I almost smiled at Killian's thoughtfulness, but Chelsea was hanging on his arm again.

And he was letting her.

Forcing my feet to move, I made my way to the bathroom and the first available stall. I wiped down the toilet seat and then layered toilet paper on it for good measure. Once I was through taking care of business, I washed my hands as I stared at myself in the mirror. I wondered how long I could stall before going back out there. I couldn't stay in here forever, though a few hours sounded inviting. When the door opened, I didn't look up. I dried my hands and used the towel to turn off the water before discarding it. Hiding out in the bathroom was a sign of weakness. I wouldn't allow that.

"Are you dating him?"

I looked up. Chelsea was standing by the door.

"No. We're just friends." Hmmm...calling Killian a friend was easier than I thought it'd be. And I had to give Chelsea props for checking on our dating status, though she could've kept her hands to herself until she was sure.

"Not that I care. It'll just make it easier. Guys tend to feel guilty when they have girlfriends."

Bitch. "He's free to do whatever he wants. Though I'm not sure he's that hard up." I wrinkled my nose at her and pushed the door open beside her. She gasped in outrage, but didn't say anything else. I didn't know if Killian was hard up or not, but the thought of him touching that skank made my skin crawl.

"There you are," Jewel said as soon as I came out of the bathroom. The door opened again immediately and Chelsea walked out. She stalked by us without looking and walked right up to Killian. "What's that about?"

"She's interested in Killian."

"I can see that." Jewel grabbed my arm and pulled me around so that my back was to them. I was probably glaring daggers at the wench. "What did she say?"

My mouth opened to spit my retort, but I took a deep breath instead. I was being ridiculous. Sure Chelsea was a first-class heifer, but Killian wasn't my date. "Nothing really. Just wanted to know if I was seeing him."

The cynical look on her face was almost comical. "Chelsea? That doesn't sound like her. She's not one to get permission before sticking her claws into somebody's man."

Half-smiling I said, "She's still not. Guess curiosity got the best of her."

"She's a bitch and a half."

I gathered that. I turned to look at Killian and he was laughing at something Chelsea said. She leaned into him and he rubbed her arm before leaning down and whispering in her ear. Chelsea licked her lips slowly. The two seemed awfully cozy. "I think I might need a ride home," I mumbled. I gritted my teeth at the sound of how hurt my voice was. It wasn't because I liked Killian like that. I just didn't like that girl he was flirting with.

That was all.

But God, I didn't want to stay here and watch this.

"We don't have to stay. The bitch was right. Everything's handled where the party is concerned."

She started walking toward Killian and I followed on autopilot, half-relieved Jewel had read my thoughts.

"Hey, Chelsea, I'm not feeling well. I'm going to head out."

The slut pouted. "You're going to miss all the fun."

Yeah, I didn't miss the innuendo, but I damn sure planned on missing the rest of her night. "I'm going to ride home with Jewel." She'd just dug her keys out of her purse.

Killian frowned at me. "If you're ready to leave, I can take you home."

"But we were just starting to have fun," Chelsea cooed up at him. I was half tempted to agree just to ruin her newly plotted evening.

He smiled down at her. "I won't be gone long. She lives on campus. I'll be back before you start missing me."

And that turned my stomach. I wanted to take one of the spokes out of my third wheel and jab it in his eye. "Don't bother. You're busy, and Jewel is going right there." I couldn't help but glance at the offending hand clutched around his arm. He looked down at where Chelsea was holding onto him then looked at me, assessing. Why did it feel like he could read me better than I could read myself? I didn't like that.

"You all right?" But I heard what he was really saying. He wasn't doing anything wrong, and he wanted to make sure I understood the score. I heard him loud and clear.

Though his actions were screaming louder than his words.

"Perfectly fine." Wasn't actually the truth, but not completely a lie. If he wanted to get mixed up with someone as transparent as Chelsea, it was none of my business.

The truth of that left an even worse taste in my mouth. Definitely time to go.

"Hey, sexy, where are you going?" Gabe asked, tugging on Jewel's arm. Where the hell had he come from? I glanced at Killian—who looked ready to slap the guy's hand off Jewel—before looking at my roommate, hoping she wasn't about to change her mind and stay.

"My room. Not feeling well." At least she wasn't changing her mind. Yet.

He stuck his lip out at her. "Can I call you later?"

"Sure." She smiled at him before looking at me. "Ready?"

I nodded.

"I'll see you Tuesday," Killian said. I looked at him, but he'd already looked down at Chelsea. He put his arm around her and pulled her close to him. "Let's get some punch."

And like that I was dismissed.

D
ismissed
. Not a feeling I was used to having. Anger? Check. Grief? You bet. Fear? Oh, yeah, I'd been terrified to a far greater extent than the average girl my age. But feeling like I'd been rejected was kinda new. Which was just weird since technically being dismissed coincided with being left alone, a state I usually strived to maintain when it came to other people. "Other" being the key word here. So why now? Why were Killian's actions Friday night muddying my usual emotional disconnect with people? With him?

I honestly didn't know, but I knew I shouldn't analyze it either. If I kept fretting I'd get pissed at the outcome. I understood how I operated. I'd take it personally, and deep down I realized he didn't encourage Chelsea as a way to irritate me. Bottom line was he was a new friend and I needed to learn how to have relationships like that again. He'd obviously been interested in that chick, and friends didn't cock-block other friends.

That didn't mean I had to like it.

Or even understand why.

"You look like someone kicked your favorite puppy," Jewel said. She'd been humming to herself while folding clothes as I stared off into space and obsessed about my friendship with Killian. She'd been humming since this morning really...after her second phone call from Gabe. She'd smiled and twirled her hair while talking to him and even made animated faces as if he were sitting in the room with her. If I ever acted giddy over a guy like that, I'd want my mom to shoot me. Then have my brain dissected and analyzed in hopes of finding a cure.

"Just thinking."

Jewel dropped the leggings she held and sighed. "I can't blame the skank. Killian is hot." She didn't have to explain to which skank she referred. Even though this campus was infested with more than its fair share of advertised T and A, I knew the skank in reference.

"I guess." I
knew
. God, I knew the guy was hot. But I didn't have a social life. I was completely and totally inept when it came to men, which was how it should be. I didn't deserve happiness when my sister's sentence was death. But becoming friends with him would help me professionally. Since I'd aspired to live a life my sister would be proud of, then that was okay. Anything more was off the table.

"Girl, please. I can tell by the look on your face that even you aren't buying the crap you're trying to sell, so what makes you think I'm going to? You know he's the corndog's mustard. So does every other person at this school who likes dick—and that includes both sexes." When I didn't say anything right away—partly because I was now hungry for a corndog—she continued. "I don't know why you're so closed off. Did some guy stomp Gangnam Style all over your heart?" She put her hands on her hips, looking offended and mad on my behalf at that idea. I had to admit I was a little comforted by that.

I took a deep breath. "No. I wasn't burned by an old flame." Things would've been so much easier if that were the case.

Jewel walked toward me and perched on the edge of my bed. "Then what's the deal? You go to class and come back here. The only time you've gone out was Friday night, and I could tell you weren't exactly comfortable being there. There has to be a reason."

"There is." But I wasn't going to dredge everything up for her.

She looked at me awhile and then nodded slowly. "Well, you've only been here a week. I guess whatever's been holding you back won't take Killian long to break through. The man is good."

I chuckled at her. "I told you it wasn't a date. We're going to tutor each other on stuff we both despise but need."

She smirked. "I didn't say it was a date...this time. That was all you, sister." When I groaned, she put up her hand. "What I meant was, hanging out with a hottie will help. Boring school work aside, you need some male interaction. Hell, with how you've been hiding out here, you just need interaction
period
."

"You said yourself that I've only been here a week. I've said more to you this weekend than I have my own mother in the last year. I promise, I'm getting everything I need right now." Funny, I hadn't realized how easy it was to talk to Jewel, too. Maybe she was right about the interactions. I wasn't a teenager having to attend high school with petty people who made fun of anyone different. Oh, I held no illusions of college girls not being petty, but I'd noticed as I'd gotten older that the types of girls who'd make fun of me before were now too self-centered to waste any energy on anybody but themselves.

Unless provoked.

"You've talked to me more than your mom?"

Why did she sound as if she'd just won a Grammy or something? "Uh, yeah."

She smiled and blinked several times. Oh shit, was she about to cry?

"That's the nicest thing anybody has ever said to me." She reached out like she was going to touch my knee but stopped at the last second and pulled back. "Sorry. It's just that my parents ignore me, and my friends are fake. I remembered wishing I had people to hang out with because Mom and Dad rarely did. Then after Dad got elected, I realized I should've been careful with that wish. My friends only hung around because my dad was governor. They were never honest with me, no matter how minor the topic."

"Whoa. Your dad's the governor?" Why was she just now mentioning this? That wasn't minor info.

Jewel half-smiled. "Not anymore. He served two terms starting around the time I became acquainted with Midol but before Bieber fever set in." She chuckled. "He ran for a third but lost to a senator. There was talk of a scandal, that he was abusing his power." She rolled her eyes. "He wants to be president one day and still has hopes of working at the federal level. Anyway, those were impressionable years for me. Not that I got to sow any wild oats or anything while he was in office."

"I guess it'd be hard to sneak out and play kiss with the state police hovering around."

"O-M-G, you have no idea. They monitored everything. Facebook, texts. I couldn't say or do anything I didn't mind my dad's staff learning and risk discussing during some status meeting. It was bad enough I got my period while he was in office. My parents were at some governors' weekend thing. I used toilet paper until I worked up the nerve to ask his assistant for help. She had to buy me pads because all she had were tampons, and then the damn things had wings. I was like, 'Do they fly?' From wadded-up toilet paper to figuring out how to strap the sticky contractions onto my panties, I was in the pits of hell! Jeez, it was so embarrassing."

The scrunched up face she made caused me to laugh. Out loud. I laugh so hard and so long I was crying and holding my stomach. Thankfully, she'd fallen into hysterics, too. When I was finally able to pull in a breath, I exhaled slowly through a smile. It felt good to laugh like that. I couldn't remember the last time I'd done it. Probably never. "Did you toss them across the room like paper airplanes?" We both burst out laughing again. "I think that's the funniest thing I've ever heard."

"Gee, thanks. It was only the most traumatic experience of my life."

She was joking, but that sobered me up in record speed. I couldn't share with her my most traumatic event. Now it wasn't even really a choice of keeping my stories in. No, I didn't want to horrify her with my reality. Jewel had lived a privileged life. She was better off not learning how hard mine had been. I licked my suddenly dry lips and struggled for a way to continue our lighthearted conversation without being obvious. "You're welcome?" I smiled with a raised eyebrow.

It worked. She chuckled and shook her head. "So what are you going to do about Killian?"

I frowned at her. "What do you mean?"

"I think you should know something about him..."

My skin prickled as I stared at her. Was she going to warn me about his temper? He'd already told me about that. "What?"

"He almost got suspended for attacking Gabe in class. I wasn't there, but I heard he just lost it. If a teacher wasn't there to pull him off Gabe..." Jewel shivered, not finishing.

"I know he's seeing the counselor about that."

"I asked Gabe about it when he called me yesterday, and he didn't elaborate. Just said Killian has a short fuse."

"Okay," I said slowly. I guess she was telling me this because we were forming a friendship of our own now, and girls watching out for each other seemed like the right thing to do.

"That's not all." She shut her eyes and took a deep breath before looking at me. "I slept with Killian freshman year."

My eyebrows rose up into my hair, but other than that, I made no physical move.

"It was a few years ago, and we chat some here and there, but he doesn't date. I tease him a little about it, and he lets me. Just like he lets the other girls he's been with and parted on good terms." She sighed and leaned forward, touching my arm for the first time since she'd almost done it earlier. "Look, I know you say you're not dating him, and I know he doesn't date. I just don't want you to get your hopes up that something more may come of your friendship with him. You won't get it. I know. I hoped I'd be the one to change his mind at one point. Not that he ever led me to believe I would," she quickly added. "He was very clear about his intentions before we hooked up. I was between boyfriends and thought if I slept with him, he might want to keep seeing me. I was stupid, but it wasn't his fault."

"Why are you telling me this?"

She leaned back and wrapped her arms around her bent knees. "Because some of the girls he's seen are delusional. I just don't want you to be one of those girls. The guy has issues. I don't want to see you get hurt by pretending there's more between the two of you than there really is."

"You know there's nothing going on with him. We're friends. New friends at that."

Jewel rolled her eyes. "Just keep reminding yourself of that. He's a player, but he's very upfront about that with the ladies."

"I don't have much experience with this, but even I know that doesn't make him a player. It makes him a whore." Though I shouldn't be surprised. He was a young, single man. Sleeping around was like a rite of passage for them. Of course, there were usually some girlfriends mixed in there somewhere, rather than just an endless stream of one-night stands.

"Exactly. Just don't forget that."

Forget that? Please...it was just one more thing for me to obsess about during my quiet musings. Not only had I been dismissed, I'd been dismissed by a whore for a sure thing in stilettos.

Yeah, that did a number on the fragile ego.