“What?” he asks.
“You had my phone. In my bedroom. Chelsea…”
“Fuck, Chelsea. Do you think she could have texted something to Maize?”
I shake my head. “She’s always had it out for her. Fuck wait, maybe she sent her pictures of you guys in my bed.”
“I wouldn’t put anything past her, and I was drunk, Christian. She could have been taking pictures of the two of us, and I wouldn’t remember.”
The thoughts of Maize seeing pictures of Chelsea and Linc in bed—in my room—thinking it was Chelsea and me, turns the cup of coffee I drank earlier around and around in my stomach. “It’s the only thing that makes sense.” Maize isn’t the kind of girl to use me for anything. Even though insecurities from past experiences crept into my brain, my heart always knew she’d never do anything hurtful, which is why this was so confusing and painful.
“Oh, this is bad.” I tug on my hair. “So fucking bad.” I glance at Linc, who is staring at me, like he’s waiting for me to figure out how to fix this. “I need to talk to her.”
“Yeah, I know, but...” He shakes his head, worry all over his face. “She made it pretty clear she didn’t want to talk to you.”
I can’t let that stop me. Not now. Not with what I know. A plan forms and expands in my brain, and as my insides settle slightly. “I have an idea.”
28
Maize
“Okay, get up. I’m sick of you moping around here like a sloth.”
“A sloth? Sloths mope?”
“Well I don’t know what mopes. I’ll do a search and come up with a better simile later. Right now, I want you to put on some damn pants, brush your hair and maybe a little lipstick wouldn’t kill you. Maybe some blush too. You look like death.”
“Why thank you. I love you too, but I’m not going anywhere. I’m reading.” I flip the page of my book. I’ve stared at the last page for so long, and I’ve yet to digest its words.
“Oh no you don’t.” She grabs the book and shoves it down the back of her pants.
“Give me that…wait, never mind. That is just nasty.”
“Get dressed, or I’ll do this with all your books, your computer and your e-reader.”
“Wow, I remember when you were my nice best friend.”
“I’m still your best friend, which is why you’re going to do everything I tell you to do.” I push up and adjust my pillow.
“What’s going on, Kaitlyn?”
“Well,” she says, “This is kind of about me. I’m sorry. I know you’re going through a hard time, and I haven’t wanted to make anything about me, but I need you.”
My stomach drops. “I’ve been such a terrible friend. I’m so sorry.”
“No, that’s not true at all.” She leans in and gives me a hug.
“Tell me what you need.”
“There’s a new band at the Growler tonight. The lead singer is soooo hot. I really want to go.”
I bite my lip, and consider Christian’s schedule. There’s no game today, so the team won’t be there to celebrate a win or loss, and truthfully, Kaitlyn has been there for me, through the highs and the lows, and I really want to be there for her when she needs me too.
“Give me a few minutes to get dressed, and we’ll head out.”
“Wear something sexy.”
I chuckle. “I am not wearing anything sexy.”
“Dress nice. No yoga pants.”
“Why the hell not? Why would it matter in a dark pub?”
She folds her hands and presses them to her heart. “Because I want you to remember every detail of tonight. What everyone was wearing, what everyone was doing, when I first speak with my future husband.”
I stare at her for a second, and then burst out laughing. “You’re crazy, you know that?”
She grins. “No, I’m not, my mother had me tested.”
I poke her nose. “And you watch too many TV sitcoms.”
I make my way to the bathroom, and turn on the shower, so happy that we now have running water, all thanks to the guy who is dead to me. Well, he isn’t. He’s alive and breathing, and living rent-free in my stupid brain.
I brush my teeth, fix my hair, and since I look a little like I hadn’t seen sun in a while, I put on a bit of blush and some lipstick. I change into a pair of jeans, and a light sweater. My hair, though, I clip it up, and let a few tendrils frame my cheeks.
I head downstairs, and find Kaitlyn talking to one of our roommates who came back early. I smile at Mia, and she gives me a hug. “Have fun tonight.” She disappears and I arch a brow at Kaitlyn.
“Why is everyone acting so weird tonight?”
“You just haven’t been out of your room enough and forget weird is our normal.” She gives me a once over, twice. “You look good.”
“I’m glad you approve.” I frown, and glance at the clock. “I don’t want to be out too late.”
“Jesus girl, it’s nine o’clock. When did you turn eighty?”
“Yesterday, and thanks for missing my birthday,” I say and hike my purse up high over my shoulder.
She laughs. “It’s good to see you still have your sense of humor.”
I need to have my humor, otherwise I’d spend day and night crying. Kaitlyn loops her arm through mine. “Let’s walk, in case we have too many drinks.”
“I’m not having too many drinks.”
The night is dark, the clouds heavy as we walk toward the Growler, and when we reach the pub and enter, I glance at the stage, but there’s no band playing. Come to think of it, it’s still officially holiday break, why would they schedule a band when half the students aren’t back yet.
I turn to Kaitlyn, about to question her when a commotion catches my eye. More than half the football team is here, all eyes on Christian as he
