I turn, but before I leave, Kira appears in the doorway. "Hey, girl," she says. "What time are we heading over to your brother's house? Do you want to pregame in my room?"
Brother.Ihatethat word. I also don't see the point in correcting her or reminding her I despise him.
"You okay?" she asks.
I wipe the grimace off my face. "Yeah, I'm fine. But I actually have to head over there early, so—"
"What happened to your bed? Why are you taking all of that stuff with you?"
I take a breath, preparing to give her my ex-boyfriend story. "It's not a huge deal, but I have this ex from back home, and he's been sending me all of these creepy text messages. He's been threatening me, and he…left something in my room and in my car. It's bad enough that I don't really feel safe here, so I've been staying at Elias's house."
"Oh, my god! Are you okay?"
"Yeah," I tell her. "Yeah, I'm okay."
"What did he leave in your room?"
"…A dead squirrel."
Her eyes widen. "Oh, my god! Saige! You need to tell campus security or something. That's really scary."
"Yeah, I've been thinking about that, too. But anyway, that's where I've been, and I told them I'd help them clean up before the party since they're letting me stay there." For whatever reason, this is the part of the lie that makes me cringe—telling her I'm just doing a favor for Elias because I want to. "So, I am going to head over there now."
"I'll go with you."
"What? No, you don't have to do that."
"No, it actually sounds kind of fun. I can help you, too. I'll grab my bag and the vodka."
She flashes me a smile, leaving the room before I can protest.
Great.
The two of us walk to the townhouse, and I knock on the door this time instead of entering through the garage.
Nolan opens it a few seconds later, confused when he sees me. "You don't have to knock, Saige."
Leaving the door open, he steps back into the house without even acknowledging Kira.
"Okay, that was weird," she says quietly. "I guess maybe you're right—he is a little creepy."
I don't really like to hear that, either. I'm not sure why; I said it first. I think it all the time, but I don't like it when she says it.
"Don't call him that," I say over my shoulder as we walk into the house.
Nolan sits on the sofa in the dark with the television on again, a glass of whiskey in his hand. He's wearing white joggers with a matching hoodie, this time with a pair of Timberlands.His hair is still a little wet, thick dark locks sticking to his forehead.
He's pretty when you don't look into his eyes.
Kira shrugs. "Eh, well, I'll grow on him. I always do."
She makes herself right at home, somehow figuring out how to connect her phone to the speakers in here in mere seconds, oblivious to the fact that Nolan is trying to watch television. As hip hop music blares from every corner of the first floor, Nolan glares at me over the top of his glasses.
I smile a little.Still think she's a criminal mastermind?
Kira opens cabinets, looking for glasses, and takes two out, setting them on the counter. Then she helps herself to some ice from the freezer before opening her bag and pulling out a bottle of vodka, soda, and even a lime.
She came prepared, I guess.
