“Yeah, I planned on having one beer. I was there checking something out.”
“What?”
“It’s not important,” Gray interrupted me as he looked around. “He had one beer, then Derrick saw him leave and go home.”
“The cute corner?” she asked before she rolled her eyes at Gray’s scowl. “So?” Quinn was looking between the two of us, her food forgotten.
“I have no memory of getting home.”
“You were drugged?” Quinn asked me with concern. “I knew that ankle injury was bullshit. Who?”
“I don’t know.”
“That’s not all,” Gray said as he took another carrot, ignoring her glare. “He woke up with a girl.”
Quinn sighed, shaking her head in disappointment as she laid her fork on the table. “You’re a complete asshole. How did you even manage?”
“Idon’tremember.Anything,” I stressed as I held her gaze. “I need you to find out who she is.”
“What’s the last thing you do remember?”
“The beer.”
“You took an open drink?” Quinn was ready to launch into another lecture.
“No. I opened it.”
“You laid it down? Unattended?” She looked even more ready to start yelling.
“No.”
Sitting back, she tossed her hair over her shoulder. “Pinpricks?”
“What?” I exchanged a glance with Gray.
“If you didn’t drink it or swallow it, then it was injected into you.” Quinn stood abruptly. “Let’s go.”
Ignoring her food, she picked her book bag up and headed out of the cafeteria, not giving Gray or me any choice but to follow.
Quinn walked into the men’s bathrooms with no qualms. “Everyone out.” Stunned, a few students looked at her before they started to react, either in horror or humor, and then they saw us. “Move it, boys, no need to be shy. I’ll make sure I tell whoever asks it was a weapon.” She winked lasciviously at them before she jerked her head toward the door. “Today, guys.”
Gray checked the stalls as I held the door open for the students to leave. Quinn stood in the middle of the bathroom, already looking me over.
“Last memory of the night?” she asked when we were alone.
“The beer and talking to Derrick about routes for the game the next day.”
“Whose party?” she asked as she approached me, handing her book bag to Gray before her hands started running up my left arm as she studied me.
“I don’t remember, some guy.”
“Jett, I honestly—”
“C’mon, Quinn, you know it could have been anyone’s. He got a text, he went, enough said. Ask around, people saw him, you’ll learn whose it was.” Gray was also now studying my skin intensely.
I felt like a lab rat. Quinn exhaled in exasperation but nodded. “I’ll find out.” Her hands were now lightly prodding over my right arm, which was heavily tattooed. “I’m never going to find it in this mess.”
“Hey,” I protested, turning my head to look at her. She jerked my head forward as she moved up to my neck and then pulled my earlobe forward to check the skin behind there.
