I lean back, shaking my head. “No. No way.”
He nods again, popping his sucker out of his mouth. “Ezra was pounding the stuff every chance he got back then. It got so bad, he ended up in rehab. That’s where they hooked up. Bet she went on a bender over the weekend, woke up on Monday feeling like dogshit, and booked herself into rehab again.”
I stare at Kai, open-mouthed.
Not just because I had no fucking idea Melissa had been—was?—into coke, but because every time I think I belong in this new world, I’m reminded how different my version of rock bottom is from theirs. Of course these rich pricks binge cocaine and book themselves into rehab on the regular. Because that’s what trust fund babies do, right?
But Melissa never spoke about rehab or coke. Maybe she’d been addicted in the past, but I’m sure she’s been clean since I met her.
“Still. This doesn’t feel right.” I draw my legs up, resting my chin on my knees. “I think something’s happened to her.” The words come out softer than I intended, like I’m too scared to say anything out loud in case I will it into existence.
“What?”
“Don’t know.”
Kai doesn’t look convinced. “You tried calling her?”
I nod. “Straight to voicemail.” I pick at a loose thread on my leggings. “I even left a message on the sorority’s group chat.”
“And?”
“Abigail’s the only one who responded.” I clear my throat. “She was…less than helpful.”
“Fucking bitch.”
“Accurate.” I blow out a breath. “I just wanna know if she’s okay, you know?”
Kai grabs his knees and pulls himself into a sit. “Okay. Monday, first thing, we’ll go see Nora. She’s got to have Melissa’s emergency contacts.”
“And she’ll just give it to us?”
He grins. “All it took was a Snickers bar to get your number.”
I let out an incredulous laugh, slapping his leg. “You fucking stalker!”
A flicker of guilt crosses his face before he smothers it with a grin.
“That’s Monday’s shit. Right now—“ he gestures at my textbook “—you gotta focus on not failing midterms. You can’t give Rooke a reason to take away your grant.”
My stomach tightens at Bastian’s name.
“Focus. Right.” I pick up my textbook again, staring at the same paragraph I’ve read seventeen times. “Piaget. Cognitive development. I can do this.”
Kai settles back into his spot, pulling his textbook onto his stomach again. His foot finds my thigh, a casual touch that shouldn’t make me feel as settled as it does.
We study in comfortable silence for a few minutes. Or at least, Kai studies. I’m mostly just moving my eyes across words while my brain rehashes the Melissa situation in increasingly anxious circles.
She’s fine.
It’s been five days.
Family. Stress. Rehab.
Why wouldn’t she have told me she’s going away?
Because we’re not BFFs. I didn’t even tell her I was going down to the coast. Why’d she tell me she was?—
…I saw that…
