As I head out of the room, I already know the social grapevine will take care of half of the work for me.
I stop in the kitchen to make myself another drink, and then I tap out a quick text to Sevan.
Niko: All good still?
Sevan: I’m now the rank 1 player of the Martial Arts Mayhem video game in North America, so I’d say I’m doing fucking fantastic.
You know what I mean, smartass. No further threats on your life?
I’m safe, Niko. Also, when I’m able to walk normally again, I am going to go to every goddamn party this campus has to offer.
You’re not missing much. Debauchery and depravity.
But those are my favorites. I want to fucking *fight* somebody. Just for fun, not even because I’m mad.
There’ll be plenty more of that once you’re healed. Who would you fight, anyway?
Weston Knox needs a fist to his head.
Hey. He is my brother, even if… we’re basically strangers.
Lol. Doesn’t mean he isn’t a cocky bastard. Anyway, I’m good. Don’t worry about me.
I check on my latest posts online, and luckily there’s nothing too creepy in the comments.
I reply to a few of the latest comments on the picture I posted with Oliver a day ago, telling people I’m having a great time at Crimson.
When I head back through the house to the living room, Oliver’s not where I left him.
And that rage inside me stirs just a little.
Or maybe it’s something else.
Worry.
Since when do I fucking worry about anything?
I go through my days clouded with anger or animosity, but I don’tworry. Why worry when you’ve got nothing to lose?
But when I can’t find Oliver, that same possessive thread winds itself through me like it did when I saw that guy trying to kiss his skin.
And I don’t like losing things that belong to me.
I make a loop all around the lower floor of Onyx House, weaving through the crowd of increasingly drunk people.
I head upstairs and swing open the door to his bedroom.
“Oh!” someone says from the opposite side of his bed.
For the first time, his roommate Percy is there. He’s on his bed with a girl I assume is his girlfriend, and for the second time tonight I see much more naked skin than I was bargaining for.
“Sorry. Enjoy,” I tell them, ducking back out of the room.
For fuck’s sake.
I toss back the rest of my cocktail and head to my room to grab a hat. It’s a cold night, and I’m almost certain Oliver must have gone outside.
I push open my own door and stop when I see him.
