Yet here I am, enduring the repercussions of other people’s poor choices.
Again.
I twist the knob quietly, hoping like hell I won’t find two people getting nasty on the other side. I’m in luck when a silence falls over me and the door clicks shut behind me. Save for the moonlight streaming in through an open window, the warm breeze curling around the curtains, the room is void of life.
I survey the well-kempt bed, the dresser on the other side of the room, and the shelves lining the walls with trophies. I squint through the dark to see the name Fletcher engraved on them.
Go figure.
Of course, his room wouldn’t be touched by a soul. He probably warned everyone off by threat.
There’s a door not far off to the side. It’s cracked and a sliver of green light comes from it. Curious, I walk to it, relieved to find it’s a bathroom. I flick the switch, assessing the space and the stupid LED football light hovering above the toilet.
I want to rip it off the wall.
Suddenly feeling parched and realizing I set my cup of water down when I spotted Sylvia, I twist the handle on the sink, sighing when a steady stream of water flows out. I cup a handful and bring it to my mouth.
The water soothes away the ache in my stomach from the beer as I bring another handful to my mouth, slurping at it before cupping more and dousing my cheeks.
I don’t know why I came up here when I should’ve called an Uber and gone back to the apartment. Everleigh would understand. She’s only a text away, and she wouldn’t hold a grudge come morning.
My body buzzes with the energy from downstairs, and instead of creeping back out to the hallway to descend the steps toward my friends, I flick the light off—just in case someone enters the room—and slide down the wall at the opposite side of the sink. I pull my knees to my chest and tip my head back against the wall.
The events of the day scroll quickly, leading back to this morning before my mind wanders to my sister. I never messaged her back. Grabbing my phone from my back pocket, I click on our text thread and let her down easy.
No amount of man meat is doing it for me tonight.
She texts back almost immediately, her message making me laugh. It’s a welcome diversion from Fletcher’s crappy party, bumping into Webber, and being at the receiving end of Sylvia’s alcohol-induced opinions.
It all weighs heavy on me, but not as heavily as my dad’s infidelity.
It’s quiet moments like these when the memory comes back with a vengeance.
We were supposed to meet up for brunch and then…
I squeeze my eyes shut and push away the images.
I still don’t know how I’ll ever find the courage to tell Mom and Olive.
“Oh, God, tell me what the hell to do.” It’s a murmur on my lips, and I don’t know if the man upstairs hears it. I’ve never been one to think a higher power doesn’t exist, but it’d be niceif he could pull through for me. I need guidance more than ever, and I’m so desperate that I’ll take it from anyone who’s willing to lend it. Ridiculous that I’ve gone this long lying to my family.
How am I any better than him?
I let out an exasperated breath, figuring I should get back downstairs, but then hear metal scraping metal. My attention snaps to my left, and I press my back further into the wall.
My eyes jump around the room, landing on the shower curtain and the way it sways from being yanked a foot to the side. I take in the surroundings and find a body in the tub. That’s right. There’s amanlying in it, his arm stretched out over the side of it. From the green of the light above the toilet, I’m able to make out his sharp jaw, full lips, and light brown hair.
“Colson?”
He’s been there this entire time?
He rolls his head to the side and looks at me.
“What—Why are you in the tub?”
“Whyaren’tyouin the tub?”
My body relaxes into the wall, and I shift so I can see him easier. “What?”
