“Closet freak, huh? Help you go longer with your girl?”
“Guy, actually. He says it makes the sex better.”
I grin. “Huh. You’re a surprise. Just make sure it’s really what you want to do. If he can’t pleasure you without it, that’s a him problem. That’s as much of a public service announcement as you’re gonna get from me.”
His gaze darts around—he’s clearly nervous that we’re doing a drug deal in the snow, next to the Ashford U political science building.
“Relax, Mister Better Sex. We’ll be fine.” He gets hismoney out, and I pull the drugs from my bag. The second I’m paid and hand them over, I see the dean walk down the sidewalk, one building away.
“What’s up, Dean Winters?” I call and wave.
“What? Oh my God.” The kid dives behind a bush. “Don’t call his attention to us.”
“We’re fine.” The dean doesn’t wave back. He hates it that he’s forever in our pocket, but that’s what happens when you have a fascination with choking women you pay to fuck and accidentally kill one. “Have fun. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” I tell the guy, then jog over to the dean. “What’s up, Hal?”
“Mr. Fitzpatrick.”
“There anything you need? I think you’d have fun with ketamine. You seem like the kind of guy who would like them a little incapacitated.”
“Jesus Christ, Rory.” This time, it’s the dean’s gaze darting around just like the kid did a few minutes before, and I laugh.
“I’m kidding. I don’t advocate for that shit. I actually like to cut off the dicks of guys who try to force people to fuck them. What a bunch of losers.”
He bristles, then lifts a hand, adjusting his glasses.
I shouldn’t be fucking with him, but I can’t help it. I’m so goddamned bored, and I feel out of sorts lately. Lonely, I think, like Ash said.
“I don’t feel like this is a very appropriate conversation,” the dean says.
“Mr. Fitzpatrick,” I add pointedly, to continue pissing him off. There’s nothing he can do about it, which makes this fun.
“Mr. Fitzpatrick,” he amends.
Since this isn’t as fun as I’d hoped, I say, “The kid yousaw me with, he doesn’t get in trouble, right?” The dean knows we sell on campus but doesn’t usually see us in action. I don’t want him to find a roundabout way to get the horny nerd in trouble.
“I know. I hate myself for it.”
“You should hate yourself even more for killing that woman. I might have blood on my hands, but you do too. Have a good day, Hal.”
I pull my hood up and walk away. I head straight to my car, then back to the house. It’s empty, everyone in class like good boys. I smoke a bowl, then play video games, but it’s not as fun by myself. The house is too quiet, my legs are getting restless, so before long, I push to my feet and stuff my hands in my pockets to grab my fidget spinner, but I must have lost it. I have no idea what I’ll do when Cillian and Ollie are gone. That’ll make things even worse.
I tug my phone out of my pocket and text Cil.
Coming home after class?
Cil: Running an errand for Tiernan, then taking Ollie to lunch. Why? What’s up?
Nothing, really. I don’t know why I’m acting like this, why I suddenly have a problem being in an empty house and keeping myself busy.
Cil: Aren’t you supposed to be in class? I just checked your location and you’re at home. You need me?
I don’t. I’m just…antsy. It feels like everything is changing.
Nah, I’m fine. Was just curious. I’m gonna take a nap or some shit.
Cil: You don’t take naps.
Me: I do today, motherfucker. I can’t be tired or what?
