Awakening (Covenant College Book 1) Page 9

  “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 twenty 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, um … 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.”

  “Why are we talking about vampires again?”

  “You said things couldn’t get much worse,” Laura responded.

  “And this is your way of showing me just how things could get worse?”

  Laura nodded. She seemed so normal a few minutes ago.

  “You want breakfast?”

  “I already ate.”

  “Well, I’m getting breakfast.”

  “I can go with you,” Laura was too nice for her own good, but beggars couldn’t be choosers at this point.

  “Okay, just let me go put a bra on,” I said. “If you think people were talking about me before – just wait until I’m the girl that goes to breakfast in a tank top without a bra.”

  Fourteen

  After breakfast, I decided I still wasn’t talking to any of my roommates. I wasn’t really angry with them anymore, but I wasn’t exactly happy with them either. Internally I could acknowledge that I had been out of line – and perhaps off-base. Externally, though, it was still all their fault.

  I opted, instead, to stonily pack up all of my laundry and haul it into the basement with my homework. I figured I could waste most of the afternoon down there without looking like I was running away from a problem. Of course, I was running away from a problem – but I just didn’t want to look like I was a big old coward.

  I placed my two loads into the machines, sat down in one of the armchairs and pulled out my Kindle to read through a chapter for Astronomy class. When I was done, I sat there and pondered what I had just read. All this science stuff was just ridiculous, I decided. I took Astronomy because I thought it would be fun. This was just too much work.

  I heard some laughing going on outside the laundry room door so I poked my head out to see what was going on. To my surprise, it was Laura and Mark. Mark was busy skateboarding through the empty meeting room off the adjacent hallway and Laura was watching him while she messed with some clay in the middle of the floor.

  I couldn’t be sure, but it looked like Laura was making beads or something. Great, a crafty hipster.

  I realized that both Mark and Laura had noticed me watching them so I stepped into the room. “I didn’t mean to interrupt,” I said.

  “You’re not,” Laura said invitingly. “We were just talking.”

  Mark smiled his slacker greeting but never stopped zipping around the
room.

  “What were you talking about?” Please don’t say vampires. Please don’t say vampires.

  “Glee.”

  Just as bad.

  “Why would you be talking about Glee?”

  “We both are fans.”

  “Why?”

  “What do you mean why? It’s a great show.”

  “It’s a musical.”

  “So.”

  “So, it’s a musical.”

  Laura decided to change the subject. “What shows do you like?”

  “I don’t watch a lot of television.”

  Mark took in my Goonies T-shirt and looked at me, a question on his face.

  “What? I like movies not television.”

  “So what’s your favorite movie?”

  “The Empire Strikes Back.”

  That set the three of us off on a discussion about the state of science fiction today. I lamented that there weren’t great shows like Alien Nation and V anymore, while Mark lauded SyFy’s slate of shows.

  “They’re okay,” I offered. “I’m not in love with anything on that network right now, though.”

  “I love Once Upon a Time,” Laura giggled. “Prince Charming is so cute.”

  “I liked the sheriff better,” I surprised even myself with that revelation.

  “He was cute,” Laura smiled encouragingly at me.

  “Too bad he died.”

  The rest of the afternoon flew by. Mark let me have another try on his skateboard – and it was surprisingly easy on the carpet. I wasn’t as worried about falling.

  Once I’d finished my laundry, Mark and Laura helped me carry it upstairs. When I walked into the dorm room, I found Paris, Tara and Brittany all drinking whiskey sours.

  “What’s the occasion?”

  “Just trying to make Brittany feel better.” Paris seemed to be daring me to attack her. Instead, I introduced Laura to everyone in the room and then the three of us joined the three of them for drinks.

  “So you decided to solve Brittany’s blacking out problem from last night with more liquor?” That didn’t seem like a viable solution to me – but I didn’t want to start another fight.

  “We figured if she drank again she might remember what she forgot last night.” Tara’s face was flushed. If I had to guess they’d been drinking a good hour before I returned to the room.

  “That only works with pot,” I offered.

  “That’s true,” Mark agreed. “He seemed to be enjoying his drink, too.

  Brittany suddenly turned to me and grabbed my arm securely. “I’m sorry, Zoe.”

  She seemed so earnest I wanted to hug her for a brief second. Instead I laughed. “I’m sorry, too. I knew something fishy was going on. I shouldn’t have attacked you.”

  “No, I want you to know that I would never purposely go after your boyfriend,” tears were actually starting to leak from her eyes. Great. This was all I needed.

  “Drink your whiskey sour.” It had come out a little gruffer than I wanted, but Brittany got the message and turned back to her drink.

  The drinking went on for a good four hours before people started passing out. Paris and Tara were the first to retire to their beds. I could hear both of them breathing regularly, so I knew they would be down until tomorrow morning.

  I cut Brittany off around 11 p.m. I knew she’d be regretting this binge tomorrow morning. She grumbled the entire way into the bedroom – shutting the door behind her.

  Laura had left a few minutes before – but not before I caught her casting a wistful glance in Mark’s direction. I figured that situation between Laura and Paris would come to a head at a future date. For now, I decided to ignore it.

  When Mark and I were the only ones still up, we decided to toss in a DVD and watch a movie. I opted for The Empire Strikes Back and he didn’t argue.

  We were just finishing up with the planet Hoth assault, when there was a knock at the door. Since it was after midnight, I moved to the door cautiously and peered out the peephole. There was a goofy looking guy with slicked back hair (this isn’t Jersey Shore, people) and an orange cast to his skin on the other side of the door.

  I opened it cautiously.

  “Hi, I’m Braden,” the boy offered.

  I just stared at him without saying a word.

  “I’m here to see Brittany.”

  “She’s asleep.”

  “She just called me.” The orange boy looked confused. I figured that was his perpetual state.

  “When?”

  “Like fifteen minutes ago.”

  I clenched my jaw and moved away from the confused boy in the door. As he started to step in I whipped around. “Stay!” I then turned back to the bedroom and opened the door. Brittany was standing on the other side excitedly.

  “Is that Braden?” She whispered.

  “Yes. Why did you call him?”

  “I figured it was time.” I noticed Brittany was leaning on the desk so she wouldn’t fall over.

  “Time for what?”

  “To turn in my V-card.”

  “What’s a V-card?”

  “My virginity,” Brittany hissed.

  “Wait, so you drunk dialed him and called him over to take your virginity?”

  “Yes.”

  I can’t believe this. “Why?”

  “I just want it to be over with.”

  I sighed. Brittany was just too much work. “Go to bed.”

  Brittany looked confused.

  “I said go to bed. You’re not turning in your V-card tonight.”

  “Why not?” Brittany pouted.

  “Because you’re not going to remember it tomorrow and you’ll most probably regret it in the morning. If you’re going to do this – which I recommend by the way – then you should be sober.” What I didn’t add is that she should also be prepared. I doubted Brittany was the type of girl to carry condoms around, and Brady looked too goofy to have anything but an expired one in his wallet.

  Brittany looked like she was going to argue. Instead, the liquor seemed to be getting the better of her and she crawled into her bunk.

  “Tell Braden I’ll call him tomorrow,” she murmured into her pillow.

  “I will.” I had a few things I was going to add to that message – but she didn’t need to know that.

  I walked back out into the common room, pulling the bedroom door shut behind me as I did. “Brittany won’t be coming out to play tonight.”

  Braden looked nonplussed. “Why not?”

  “I put her to bed.”

  “Maybe if you just let me see her … ?” Braden obviously wanted to dip his wick. I could tell he was trying to decide how much of an obstacle I would be. He had no idea.

  “You’re not going to see her. You’re going to leave here. You’re going to forget she ever called you. Oh, and you’re going to think long and hard about what a piece of shit you are.”

  “Excuse me,” Braden took a menacing step into the room.

  I strode across the floor and stood toe-to-toe with him. His persona had gone from goofy to dangerous pretty quickly, I noted. I had no intention of backing down, though. I needed to bitch at someone – and he was as good a person as anybody.

  “Who do you think you are?” Braden growled.

  “I’m your worst nightmare,” I responded. “I’m the person that knows what kind of person you are. The type that would take advantage of a drunk girl and never talk to her again. I’m also the type of person that can hold her liquor so you can’t bamboozle me.”

  I stepped sideways at that point and opened the door wider as I gestured for Braden to leave.

  “Now, Braden, you are going to leave.”

  “What if I don’t?” The question seemed like he asked it with a dose of courage, but I could tell he was a coward.

  “Well, if you don’t, then I’ll start you on fire and we’ll just go from there.”

  Braden met my gaze evenly – I’ll give him props for that – but he must not have liked wh
at he saw there. He quickly slipped out the door and hurried down the hall. If I was a better person, I’d put one hundred dollars on the fact that he looked back to make sure I wasn’t following him at some point. I didn’t look, though.

  Mark was shaking with silent laughter when I turned back around.

  “What?”

  “You’re just one scary bitch.”

  “And don’t you forget it,” I grumbled as I threw myself back in the chair and tuned back in to a galaxy far, far away.

  Fifteen

  The next morning was a rough one for all of us. I wasn’t technically hung over – but I was still pissed at Brittany’s antics.

  While Brittany was in taking the longest shower known to man, I filled Paris and Tara in on what had happened after they went to bed.

  To my surprise, Paris found the situation hilarious. “I’m sorry, but that is just so … so Brittany,” she sputtered.

  “What did the guy do when you threatened to start him on fire?” Tara seemed concerned.

  “What do you think he did? He left.”

  “But you weren’t really going to start him on fire were you?”

  “Probably not. It depends on how obnoxious he got.”

  After breakfast, Paris said she wanted to go back to the library. Since I didn’t want to hang around with a complaining Brittany, I agreed. She hadn’t brought up the Braden situation from the night before, but I was just betting she was waiting for me to leave the bedroom before she called him to apologize for my misbehavior.

  As we headed toward the library, Paris seemed to be in a chatty mood.

  “Do you think Brittany was drugged at the party?”

  Since we’d been fighting the day before, we really hadn’t discussed the situation.

  “I don’t know, but I don’t think she drank enough to be that out of it.”

  “Have you talked to Will?”

  “No.”

  “Are you going to?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Do you think he knew she was drugged?”

  That was a good question. All my years with Will would lead me to believe he wasn’t capable of that. He was different at college, though. I had to admit that. Was he that different, though?

  “I don’t think he knew she was drugged,” I finally said. “I can’t believe he’d condone that.”