The way Ava says that is ominous and turns the gin in my stomach acidic. Ava is shocked by my reaction, and I realize that I sound gruff and almost angry. She blinks a minute and then leans closer. “There’s been a few girls… through the years that have fallen ill at parties with race crews.”
“What?” I feel sicker with every word she says.
“I mean, not a lot. It’s not some epidemic or anything but…” Ava glances around at the people milling around the small, dark club with the jazz music pumping. My eyes do the same. Ninety percent of the people in here are from a race team.
“I just know a couple of girls who…” she leans close, going so far as to cup her hand by my ear, like we’re in second grade playing a game of broken telephone. “Think they may have been drugged at a race party.”
“What?” That comes out full volume. Two pit crews who are chatting near our table turn and look over. She covers my hand with hers, patting me gently as if that will calm me down.
“You Aussies really are hot-tempered.” Ava laughs but quickly stops when she sees my scowl. “It was ages ago. I don’t know any new stories, so I’m sure whoever it was doing it, if someone was doing it, has left the scene. It’s all rumor really anyway.”
“You said Frankie had something to do with this,” I say in a whisper because I definitely don’t want people to hear me bring her up. I would never normally gossip about her, but I’ve always known there is something she dances around with me. A truth she won’t tell and a reason why she distrusts racing crews.
“I have no evidence of anything, William,” Ava whispers, her hand gracefully moving from mine. She heard what I said about not wanting a repeat, and she isn’t pushing my boundaries one bit. “I just know that she was not a drug user at the time she had that overdose.”
“Okay…” I wait for more words to daintily drop from her mouth and put these puzzle pieces in order for me.
“I might have dabbled in the snowy stuff at boarding school. I was a minor, lashing out. Testing boundaries. Being an idiot,” she whispers, cupping my ear again because her posh British life would be blown up by the tabloids if that fact got out. “Nothing too intense but you know… anyway I partied with Frankie a lot back in the day. I mean, enough that I offered to share with her and her friends on multiple occasions, and she always declined. Always.”
I don’t know what drug was found in Frankie’s system that night. I never asked, and no one in her family mentions that night, ever. Ava finishes the last of her drink and smiles at me. “I know nothing. Honestly. But that whole thing was the exact same season two other girls ended up blacked out. After one drink. I found one passed out in the washroom of a club the teams were partying at in Tokyo and another girl, a model friend, was taken to the hospital after being found unconscious in an alley outside a club in London. She’d spent the night partying with race teams. That’s the last thing she remembered. And when they tested her blood, they found GHB.”
I feel like I’m in some sort of alternative universe or nightmare and I can’t wake up. This is not what I’ve ever seen or experienced in the race world. But then I think of that douche guy I punched who was being aggressive with Frankie. That was the night before she allegedly overdosed. That guy was a race fan. I’d seen him at a few after parties throughout the season…
“This is horrible,” I whisper and she nods and then pats my hand again.
“Like I said, it’s been years,” Ava replies. “And it’s all conjecture. But ask Frankie. She’s your boss. I’m sure you two get along great. Who can resist your charm, Billy?”
She stands, leans over, and kisses my cheek gently without anything other than friendship. And as if to prove it, she then ruffles my hair like I’m a precocious toddler. When she’s gone, I stand up and head to a quiet corner of the room and text Clara.
Did you ever hear of any girl having their drink drugged at a race party?
I wait, watching the bubbles come and go as she crafts a response.
No. What’s going on?
I sigh and pace back and forth as I give her the short version of what Ava told me.
Fuck, that’s gross.
“Yeah it is,” I say out loud, then realize she can’t hear me and type the same words to her. Then I slip my phone into my pocket and head back toward the bar, where I politely ask to pay my tab so I can get the hell out of there. As I wait for the bartender to run my card, I notice Ava is sitting with a girlfriend at another table. Antonio saunters over and sits down beside her.
I sign for the drink I had, leave a hefty cash tip, and turn to leave. One last glance in Ava’s direction makes my heart pound heavier in my chest. Antonio is leaning in, gesturing with his hands as he smiles, telling some big story of his, and Ava is leaning back… her hand covering the top of her glass in the most uncasual, casual way I’ve ever seen.
She’s making sure nothing gets dropped in her drink.
