Chapter 6
GAbrIEL
Seeing her again is a shock to my system. When I found her lying on the floor of the girl’s locker room, blood all around her, I thought she was a goner for sure. She was pale. Lifeless. But seeing her now, she's none of those things.
She has color in her skin. A healthy tan that compliments her dark brown hair and equally dark brown eyes. And she’s definitely not lifeless, though I don’t think panic stricken and terrified are what she should be after.
Is she worried I’ll tell Holt how we know each other? I wouldn’t do that. I figured she’d catch on after I played it off like we hadn’t met. I was hoping she’d stick around for a minute so we could talk to her.
I've worried about her. And seeing her now, it looks like I still have reason to worry. Shit’s still eating at her, that much is sure.
She was small then. She’s even smaller now. I remember how little she weighed when I lifted her in my arms and ran to my car. How limp she’d been as I’d hauled her into the waiting room of the PacNorth emergency clinic.
I don’t think I’ve ever been that freaked out in my life. Not since Carlos, and back then, I knew it was too late. The dread was the same. That all-consuming feeling of hell no and why mixed with a few fuck you’s directed to the big man upstairs.
But unlike Carlos, she was breathing. She had a chance to pull through, even if it was a slim one.
Knowing that is what put the panic in place because calling 911 wasn’t an option. Richland is a small town. The closest hospital is close to forty minutes away and the nearest fire station is even further. Paramedics never would’ve made it in time.
Thankfully, the campus clinic is well staffed with doctors and med students. They had everything they needed to give the girl a fighting chance. Only it doesn’t look like she’s doing much fighting. She’s lost weight she couldn’t afford to lose, and her dark brown eyes are dull. Haunted.
I keep my gaze trained on her retreating form as she turns the corner, barely listening to Austin as he goes on about some party happening this weekend.
I have zero plans of going, so I don’t bother to listen as he rattles off a time and directions to some dude’s house that I’ve never heard of or met.
Austin knows I don’t do the party scene. And I don’t kick it with outsiders. So I don’t know why he bothers to tell me about any of this, but I pretend to give a shit anyway. For his benefit, at least.
Austin is one of those guys. You know the type. Comes from too much money, born with too much privilege. He kicks it with me and my boys sometimes because he plays soccer with us, but he isn't one of us.
He's a Greek. Something no one in my crew would ever think twice about being a part of.
Fraternities are for boys still struggling to become men. They think they’re part of some cool kid club when really, they’re just the assholes hanging on to the memory of high school, where popularity makes them feel like a special fucking snowflake.
They haven’t realized that none of that shit matters in the real world. No one cares who you’re dating or where you buy your clothes. If you’re rocking Skechers instead of Adidas or higher priced shit.
But guys like Austin live for the attention. Dressed up in his Abercrombie & Fitch polo with blue plaid shorts. He’s even got the puka shell necklace that the early two thousands called and want back.
I swear the dude has more gel in his hair today than I use in an entire month. But despite all that, he’s not all bad once you get used to him.
He has a killer elastico on the field and he works hard. Puts in his time at practice even though he’s not trying to go pro. Soccer is just a game for him. A way to pass the time until he gets his degree and follows Daddy’s footsteps with the family business.
He’s pre-law. Not that I think he’ll make it to graduation, let alone go on to law school. The guy isn’t the sharpest crayon in the box, if you know what I mean.
Rumor has it his Pops pays some of his teachers off. Austin’s joked about it on more than one occasion so it wouldn’t surprise me if it were true.
"Yo, what's her deal, man?" I ask, interrupting whatever it is he's saying, not that he seems to mind.
Austin looks over his shoulder as if he expects to catch a glimpse of her even though she's long gone.
"CeCe?" he asks.
I nod, remembering she corrected me. Cecilia. That’s what she wants to be called. It fits. Pretty name. Pretty girl.
"No clue. She's a hot piece of ass. Me and a few of my brothers sampled her over the summer.” My eyes narrow, but Austin doesn’t seem to notice.
“She’s a good lay, but too much drama, if you ask me.
” He shrugs and the fact that he talks about her like that, like she’s a piece of meat to try and throw away without any thought or consideration, it makes my blood boil.
Does he know what she’s been through? That she tried to kill herself? If he knew, no way would he talk about her like that.
I bite my tongue and remind myself Austin isn’t the only guy at PacNorth who acts like a dickhead. Most of the jocks behave the same way.
It’s a big part of why Julio, Felix, and I keep to ourselves.
Our mothers raised us never to disrespect a woman like that, and we don’t need to lose our spot on the team because some asshole runs his mouth where he shouldn’t.
Coach has a strict no fighting policy. He’ll turn a blind eye to drinking, and he’s been known to overlook the occasional recreational drug use as long as it doesn’t affect anyone's performance.
But fighting, that's where the old bastard draws the line.
“She seeing anyone?” I ask just to keep him talking. Austin’s got that look in his eyes. The one that says he’s spinning his wares. He’s a slippery fucker and I know he’s not telling me everything.
“Nah. I think she’s still torn up over this summer.” He gives me a knowing smirk. "She knew the score when we hooked up. Guess her feelings got hurt or whatever when no one wanted a relationship after the lay. You know how it is."
I frown and mull over his words.
“She doesn’t seem like your usual type.”
Austin likes slutty, and there is nothing about Cecilia that gives off the I’m easy vibe Austin usually gravitates to.
He snorts. “She isn’t now. But she was back then.
” He licks his lips, and dude has no idea it makes him look like a straight-up creeper.
“She used to party with Zeta Pi a lot. She was on the cheer squad, too. Always came to the house in her uniform, and fuck me sideways,” he bites his fist, “it showed off all her assets, if you know what I mean.” He winks.
“Didn’t take long for her to get a reputation for being easy.
Guess she didn’t like it. She pulled a complete one-eighty out of nowhere.
” He shakes his head. “It’s a damn shame. ”
Huh. That seems … odd. I wonder if —
"She tried to kill herself a month ago,” he adds.
It’s like the fucker can read my mind.
"Yeah?" I play dumb as if I wasn’t the one who found her. I don't know her. Don't owe her any loyalties. But a voice in the back of my head tells me to keep my mouth shut on the matter, and that voice has never steered me wrong before.
"Yeah. Guess all the rumors and slut-shaming got to be too much for her.” He shrugs again. “It’s too bad. If she wasn't fucking crazy, I'd tap that again,” He chuckles. “Get enough booze in me and I still might. She's fine as fuck. You never know. A few shots and shit might happen."
"Right." I work my jaw as an uneasy feeling settles in my gut.
"But, seriously, man. Take my advice and steer clear of that one. She's got some serious damage. You do not want any part of that.”
Austin’s going out of his way to steer me away from her. Is he just looking out or is there something I’m missing here?
My phone buzzes in my pocket and I pull it out, silencing the alarm. “I gotta head out. It was good catching up,” I tell him and turn to leave.
Austin falls into step beside me.
“Don’t you have a class to get to?” I ask.
“I can be a few minutes late. Besides, you seem interested in CeCe, and I think you need the whole story on that chick.” He drops the cocky persona, his face suddenly solemn. I slow my steps and wait for him to fill me in.
He doesn’t take long.
“Over the summer she cried rape to get a bunch of guys expelled.” He shakes his head. “It was fucked up, man. She could have ruined a lot of people’s lives with that accusation.”
My eyes snap to him. The fuck? “Was she raped?” That would explain ... a lot.
"Nah, man. It wasn't like that. I was there. She threw herself at me and some of my boys. Everyone was drunk. Things escalated. It shouldn’t have happened the way it did, but I can tell you for a fact that no one made her do anything she didn’t want to.
” His jaw tightens. “She was just pissed off that no one wanted her afterward.” He snorts.
“She thought she was clever, but there's a video—“ He catches my expression and holds his hands out in front of him. “I didn’t record it,” he rushes to add. “One of my Zeta Pi brothers did. And yeah, it was fucked up. But it’s a good thing he did.”
I force myself to unclench my jaw. Did the fucker even have her consent for it?
“It was the proof we needed after she went to the school board and tried to get us all expelled.”
I stop in the middle of the hall, hardly believing what I’m hearing right now. She—
I shake my head. Fuck.
“She cried foul but the whole thing was dropped by the school.
It's not a problem for me or any of my boys, but it leaves a bad taste in your mouth.
I'm just giving you a warning. Shit with us was dropped because we had that video and we had witnesses.
The whole damn house knew her game, but you're one guy. I'd hate to see her try and flip the script on you. I’d stay far away from her if I was you.”
I nod. Yeah. Fuck. I don’t have time for that kind of drama. But if she really did all that—"Why were you talking to her, then? If she cried rape, I'd think you'd want to avoid the chick at all costs.” Not cozy up to her and shit. Who does that? Something’s fishy here.
"I don't know, man. I guess I feel bad for the girl. I mean, she's got issues, but I don't want to feel responsible for her offing herself. I'm not heartless."
When he puts it like that, it makes sense.
“Anyway, I gotta go, man. Good catching up. And the party this Friday, you'll be there?"
"I'll see what I can do," I say, giving a non-committal response.
He accepts it with a grin even though we both know I won’t be there. "That's my man. I'll catch you later."
He leaves and I head to my first class of the day.
An uneasy feeling lingers in the pit of my stomach. I try to ignore it. Cecilia isn't my problem. And if what Austin said is true, she isn't a chick I want to risk being around either.
I'm here on scholarship and all it takes is one accusation, even a false one, to put my place at PacNorth University in jeopardy.
It shouldn’t matter if a part of me wants to check in on her. Make sure she’s okay. It's not a risk I can afford to take. Right?
I suck on my front teeth as I step into my class and drop my bag beside me. I close my eyes, recalling Cecilia’s wide eyes and stricken expression from the hallway.
Fuck.
Wrong. So fucking wrong.