Chapter 15 #2
He has the ball in his hand but pauses. “It’s upstairs.” He points to a stairway behind us. “Third door on the right.”
“Okay, you’ll have to find another partner to play with you.” I start to walk away, but he captures me by the arm.
“That’s okay. I need a break, anyway.” He sets the ball down on the table and backs toward a doorway behind him. “Come find me when you’re done, okay?”
I give him a thumbs-up then make my way toward the stairway, squeezing past people. When I make it upstairs, I breathe in relief at how much quieter it is up here. Sure, a few people are around but way less than downstairs. And the music is more muffled.
I find the third door on the right, go into the bathroom, and lock the door. Then I slump against the door and release an uneven breath. That was a lot of socializing for me. Way too much. I’m exhausted.
I decide to text Lily after I pee and see if her and Wren are ready to bounce. Doubtful, since it’s not even eleven o’clock, but here’s to hoping.
My fingers feel a bit numb as I message Lily, an indicator that my alcohol level is a bit too high, and that I need to make sure not to drink anything more.
Once I send the message, I head out of the bathroom and into the hallway.
Weirdly, all the people who were here a few minutes ago have cleared out.
The silence and emptiness has me on edge, like when I’m wandering around in the city past dark alleyways.
But I remind myself that this isn’t northside, that I’m not outside, and therefore, I’m safer.
But what Lily and Wren told me on the way here echoes through my mind.
“You’re fine,” I mumble to myself as my anxiety starts to get the best of me. “You’ll be okay—”
A hand comes down over my mouth, and an arm slips around my waist. Then I’m being dragged backward toward the end of the hallway that’s smothered with darkness.
Panic sets in, but I work to stay in control as I lift my leg and bash my foot into the shin of the person holding me.
They grunt, and it’s definitely a male grunt.
As their hold on me loosens, I take off, glancing over my shoulder as I do.
All I can make out is their silhouette, and that they’re tall.
I’m not about to go check to see who it is, though, and continue barreling forward until I reach the bottom of the stairs.
The room is packed as I enter it, and my gasping for air and frantic demeanor draws a lot of attention.
I cringe at how many people are staring at me and suddenly want nothing more than to get the hell out of here.
I’ll walk through the woods myself. I don’t care.
“Maddy?” River steps out of the crowd, takes one look at me, and worry flashes across his face. He’s dressed in a black shirt, dark jeans, and sneakers, and his hair is styled messily, wisps hanging in his eyes. “Are you okay?”
I start to nod then pause. “I’m …” I cast a glance at the stairway, my brain frantically searching for an explanation as to what just occurred. “I’m not sure.” I direct my attention back to him.
He wets his lips with his tongue then nods toward the foyer. “Let’s go outside where it’s quieter, and then you can tell me what happened.”
Nodding, I remain close to him as we weave through people until we reach the front door. There, we exit out onto the front porch and into the cool night air. Then we start down the path and onto the sidewalk.
“Let’s walk for a second,” River mumbles with a frown as he notes that everyone nearby is staring at us.
Wrapping my arms around myself, I follow him down the sidewalk until the noises of the party are simply an afterthought. The light from the lampposts cast a soft glow across us along with the silvery moonlight.
He stops as we arrive at the corner of the street where no one is around. Then he faces me. “So, what happened?”
I recline against a lamppost. “Someone tried to grab me in the hallway upstairs right after I came out of the bathroom.”
The soft glow of the lamppost reflects in his wide eyes. “What?”
“Surprised the shit out of me, too,” I say. “And I’m unsure what they were planning on doing to me, but I kicked the hell out of their shin hard enough that they released me.”
He rakes his fingers through his hair, his eyes roving all over me. “Are you okay? Did they hurt you?”
“Nah. They just scared me a bit. But honestly, I’m used to that kind of thing.”
“Getting grabbed against your will?” he questions slowly, as if I’m crazy.
I lift a shoulder. “I worked nights at this café on the weekend, and I had to walk home since I have no car. The area was sketchy, even for northside … so, yeah, I’m used to that sort of thing.”
He silently absorbs my words. “Well, you shouldn’t have to be.”
“I know. But it is what it is.”
He traces his finger along his bottom lip. “I’m going to try to find out who did it. I’m not positive if I can, since that isn’t really my scene, but it’s Finn’s. So, if you’re okay with it, I might get him involved.”
“Sure, but it’s not a huge deal if you don’t find out who did it. It’s not like you can really do anything to the person for simply grabbing me for a second.”
He raises his brows as if to suggest otherwise.
“Or maybe not,” I add at the sight of his expression.
“We’ll see,” is all he says before he takes a drink from his cup.
I admire his confidence, but I’m not counting on him being successful with this. I know the drill with these types of issues.
“You didn’t text me,” he says abruptly as he lowers his cup from his mouth.
“Huh? Oh, yeah, I got sidetracked by convincing your sister that I couldn’t go to dinner with her and Wren, and then she convinced me to come to this party with her.
” Still leaning against the lamppost, I stretch my legs out in front of me, highly aware that the stars are a tad bit blurrier than they should be.
I shouldn’t have drank tonight.
“How come you couldn’t go to dinner with her?”
“I had homework to do.”
“Is that the real reason?”
“Well, partly.” I scratch my arm. “The other part is there’s no way I could afford to go where they were eating.”
“You could always have asked her to go to a cheaper place.” He takes a sip of his drink. “My sister’s nice, I promise. I know she probably comes off as dramatic and a bit pushy—which she is—but she’ll be a good friend to you if you’ll let her.”
“I’m trying here.” I gesture at the house where the party is taking place. “It’s the reason why I’m here. Although, I spent more time with Finn than her … She wandered off the minute we got here.”
His brows elevate. “You hung out with Finn?”
I push away from the lamppost and straighten. “Yep. We played beer pong. Or, well, whiskey pong.”
His eyes search mine. “You’ve been drinking?”
“Just a little bit.” When he frowns, I tap his cup with my finger. “Dude, don’t be judge-y with me.”
“This is water,” he explains then shows me the inside of the cup.
“It could be vodka. Or everclear.”
“Smell it.”
I do. It’s water, for sure.
“I don’t drink. Not during the season, anyway,” he explains. “And I try not to because I’m a terrible drunk.”
“Do you get angry or something?” Like my father does.
“No, I cry, actually,” he confesses with a drop of embarrassment.
His confession throws me off so much that it takes me a flicker of starlight to speak again.
“You know, you don’t match my first impression of you,” I finally say. “Unless this isn’t the real you.”
He stares down at his cup. “It is, and it isn’t.”
My head angles to the side. “What does that mean?”
He quietly exhales then lifts his gaze to mine. “It means I live a life where I have to have different versions of myself.”
The breeze picks up, blowing strands of hair into my face. “That sounds kind of depressing.”
“Why do you think I cry when I get drunk?” he quips.
Then he drags his fingers through his hair and abruptly changes the subject.
“So, about training you … I was thinking that we could meet in the mornings and run. I usually run with a group of guys, but we also run in the evenings, too, so I can just do that with them then.”
“You want to run with me?” I double-check, surprised.
“If that’s okay?” he answers. “I mean, it’s the best way to train you.”
“Yeah, if I can keep up with you.” Not that I think I’m slow. I’m just being realistic.
“We can go at your pace. And then I’ll have my evenings for my training.” He briefly hesitates. “Unless you don’t want to.”
“No, I do. I just … Are you sure you want to? Because I thought you were just going to give me some pointers?”
He dithers. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but if you want to make the team, you’re going to have to improve your times a bit. Not that they’re bad. They just need to get slightly better.”
I study him. “How do you know what my times are?”
He squirms, avoiding eye contact with me. “I looked you up online.”
Okay, as weird as this might seem, I kind of like that he did—I did the same to him.
Not that I like like him or anything like that.
“You looked my times up, huh?” I can’t stop a smile from touching my lips at how squirmy he’s gotten.
“I wanted to see what kind of training you needed,” he stresses. “I kind of had to.”
“Or you could’ve just asked me. Or were you too shy?” I tease, nudging his foot with mine.
He shakes his head but struggles not to smile. “Well, maybe I would have if you’d texted me.”
“All right, fair enough.” I’m smiling now, which is odd, considering only minutes ago, some guy tried to drag me down the hallway.
That reminder sends my mood plummeting and also reminds me that I need to check and see if Lily messaged me back.
“Your times are good,” he tells me while I’m digging out my phone from my pocket. “And I’m guessing you ran them without a personal coach.”
I snort a laugh. “No, no personal coaches ever. And my high school coach was the gym teacher who couldn’t even run himself, so I basically trained myself.”
Lily has sent me a message.