She watched one girl bend overand sniff loudly, and then she straightened and brushed under her nose. Devonfroze. Holy shit! Were they seriously doing cocaine in the restroom? Justout in the open like that?
Devon couldn’t believe it. Shestayed rooted to the ground, staring in shock at the girls in front of her. Then, she paid more attention, something she hadn’t been doing since she hadarrived in Chicago. Those girls looked familiar. The two with their backs toher had been sitting with Hadley. They must have worked with her.
As her eyes shifted to the girlhidden behind the other two, she saw a rush of blonde hair nearly the samecolor as her own. Devon’s mouth dropped open. No way!
DEVON STUMBLED OUT of the restroom. Her mouth was hanging on the floor as she rushed away from the scene behindher. What the hell had just happened?
She was more in shock thansurprised over the whole thing. It had come out of nowhere. Hadley had alwaysbeen driven and ambitious, going after the things she wanted with zeal. Couplethat with her spontaneity and the enormity of a big city, and Devon was surerecreational drug use was more likely than unlikely. Classmates who grew uphere had told her that Chicago in particular was a cesspool for drug use. Young professionals from all over the Midwest would flood the city and getcaught up in a lifestyle befitting their wealth. It was a status symbol, asocial norm of sorts.
Devon found it disgusting. Sheknew she wasn’t exactly one to talk about being an upstanding member ofsociety, but she had grown up around musicians. Devon knew all about the lifestyle.
How many parties had she comehome to where things had gotten out of hand? Her parents didn’t have to bein the spotlight, and it still affected them. The industry was out of control,and anyone touched was sucked into it like a tornado. Even Devon, as far onthe outskirts as she could get, had smoked pot in high school. She had givenit up when she moved out, and she had become more vocal to her parents abouther distaste.
But Hadley…
Oh, Hadley.
Hadley had never even smoked potin college. People had made fun of her for never trying anything. She was socarefree. She had said she didn’t need drugs to alter her mood because she wasso awesome without them.
Now, she’s snorting coke inpublic?
Devon couldn’t fathom it. Howhad she lost so much of her best friend in just one semester? Then again, whowas she to judge? Devon had lost all of herself in that amount of time. Orhad it been happening longer, and she had just finally opened her eyes?
She sank down into her chair andstared out across the Chicago skyline. She probably should have left rightaway. She didn’t know how to deal, and the more she thought about it, the morepissed she became. Hadley was just being irresponsible doing that shitsomewhere she could get caught. How often was she using? Did Garrettknow? Was he also on drugs?
Devon had so many questions. Butif she asked Hadley to open up, would Hadley require her to do it in turn?
“Hey, Belle. You alright?”Brennan asked, sliding back into the chair next to her.
“Stop calling me that,” she spat.
“Huh,” he said.
“Stop that, too!”
“Stop what?” He stared at herblankly.
She looked away. “Oh, nothing.”
“You need a shot?” He offeredher the tequila in his hand.
“No. Shots don’t fixeverything,” she said, turning to glare at him.
It was enough that her life was amess. Hadley wasn’t supposed to be fucked up, too. Hadley was supposed to bethe well-grounded, smart, and successful one. She was supposed to have theworld at her feet.
“Suit yourself.” Brennan tippedback the drink.
“What’s your deal?” she asked,her despair getting the best of her.
Brennan shrugged. “What’s yourdeal?”
He was looking directly into hereyes now. It made her uncomfortable, so she looked away. She really justwanted to say that she had asked first, but in the interest of not soundinglike a toddler, she held it back.
“I just don’t get you.”
“Sorry,” he saidunapologetically.
Sorry? Like that explainseverything away, she thought bitterly.
“Are you always this talkative?”she asked dryly.
“Well, I thought you were quiet,”he said with a shrug.
She was certain that he waspurposely evading her questions now. Considering how little she was tellinganyone, his nonanswers were downright infuriating.
“Whatever,” she finallyconsented. “I think I’m going to leave. I need to talk to Hadley about…someshit, but I think she’ll be more articulate tomorrow.”
“Why? Is she wasted?” he asked,looking up at Devon where she now stood over him.
Devon sighed in frustration. “You could say that,” she huffed.
“Hey,” Brennan said, catchingDevon’s arm before she walked away, “you’re not going home alone, are you?”
He slowly stood up, wavering abit on his feet. If anyone was wasted, it was Brennan. Devon was feelingsurprisingly sober after her rendezvous in the restroom.
“Yes,” she said, looking down athis arm, “I’m going home alone.”
“No way.” He shook his head. “The city isn’t safe at this hour.”
“And you’re going to do what?”she asked, looking him up and down. “You can barely walk.”
He blinked a few times and thenstraightened. He was clearly trying to make himself look more stable, butDevon wasn’t fooled. She had been drunk enough before to know that look in hiseye was far from sobriety. And she wasn’t going to have some drunk guy she hadonly known for a week help her home. That offer didn’t sound like it promisedanything but mayhem.
“Seriously, I’ll be fine,” shetold him.
Though, to be honest, the thoughtof going out in the city by herself was daunting. As it was, her nightmaresleft her running through unfamiliar dark streets. She didn’t want to live hernightmares in real life.
“No, you won’t. Not in Chicago,Belle,” he said, slurring her nickname.
“Brennan, you’re drunk. Prettymuch wasted. You’re going to be no help on the streets tonight,” Devonsaid.
“Plan on getting on a traintomorrow? Well, you walk around Chicago by yourself, and you won’t be,” hetold her.
Devon swallowed hard. She didn’twant to
