4. LOGAN
4
LOGAN
Three loud, irritating bangs to my door jerk me awake, and I bolt upright in bed. For several seconds, all I can do is blink, trying to clear my vision. A soft snore from across the room tells me Levi made it back from wherever he disappeared to last night. He hadn’t been here when I came in, so it must’ve been at some point after that. I turn my head, rubbing a hand over my cheek as I seek him out. Sure enough, he’s on his stomach, practically face down in his pillow, the huge navy comforter pulled up around his shoulders.
More loud knocking. What the fuck? Who the hell is that? “Logan! Open up!”
I’d be worried they’ll wake Levi, but he’s dead to the world. My brow furrowing, I slip out of bed and pad across the room, flinging the door open. Because I know who that voice belongs to—my Friend and a Fifth partner, Hazel. And the reminder of the frat boy challenge explains the slight hangover I’ve got going on.
I eye her with a frown. She looks every bit as tired as I feel, and I bet my hair looks just as bad. Hers is sticking up everywhere like she didn’t bother to do anything to it before she marched the three doors down to me from the room she shares with Rya. It’s not all that unusual to see girls in their natural state living in this style dorm. Evermore U’s living quarters aren’t divided by gender at all. There’s no alternating floors or hallways. There are separate women’s and men’s bathrooms, but that’s about it. My mom laughed when I questioned it and called me old-fashioned. Me, I was simply worried about running into girls in the middle of the night in my fucking underwear.
Yanking my post-party brain back in line, I give her a look that very clearly reads What? without me having to verbalize it.
“Is Rya with you?” She leans around me, glancing into the room, her eyes flicking quickly around.
“Um, no.” Confusion crashes through me. “Is she not with you?”
Hazel rolls her eyes. “To mimic you… um, no.”
I was going to say something smart back to her, but I pause before it has a chance to exit my mouth. “The fuck. Where is she?” Stepping forward, I whip my head in one direction, then the other, hoping to see Rya either exiting their room or returning from the bathroom, but the hallway is empty. “Where have you checked?” I shuffle back into my room, spinning around to look for my jeans from the night before. I locate them over my desk chair, but they feel damp. Bringing them to my nose, I sniff at them. Vodka. Jesus. My eyes cross at the smell.
“Yeah. We spilled a bunch of the vodka while we were drinking it once we got upstairs, remember?”
I narrow my eyes on her. “You spilled it on me, but yes, I remember that part.”
As I’m zipping up the fly of my jeans, the sound of someone loudly vomiting reaches us. My eyes lock with Hazel’s.
“Do you think that’s her?” She bites her lip, looking distinctly more worried than she had when she knocked. I’m positive that’s because she was sure she’d find Rya with me. Like the majority of people do, she assumes—incorrectly—that Rya and I are secretly fucking even though we’ve told her more than once we aren’t dating. We aren’t even friends with benefits.
I’ve thought about it… but she happily dates who she wants. I’m simply here picking up the pieces every time one of them disappoints her. It’s a terrible fucking cycle to be stuck in. I blow out a hard breath and shove my phone in my back pocket. “Well, I don’t know what the fuck else to do. It could be fucking anyone, but I guess we can check.”
We hurry out of the room, leaving Levi snoring behind us, and stride down the hall until we get to the central area between the four wings of the dorm where the bathrooms and elevators are housed. Sure enough, the sound of more barfing reaches our ears.
“Sounds like it’s coming from the men’s bathroom.” Hazel wrinkles her nose. “Maybe we leave the poor guy alone.”
I shake my head. Because I hear something that I recognize—whoever is in there is crying while puking, the same way Rya had the one time I was with her when she threw up. She hates it. Without waiting to say anything to Hazel, I gesture that she should follow me.
The bathroom is vacant, with the exception of the person kneeling on the floor of the stall at the end… and that person is no dude. The long, slim legs of my best friend are tucked under her as she heaves over the toilet, alternately vomiting and sobbing. Muttering a curse, I rush over there, hoping like fuck I can get to her and don’t have to crawl under the stall. When I push on the door, though, it opens easily. She must not have had time to lock it.
“Rya, we’re here,” I murmur, not wanting to startle her.
Her answer is to heave again. It’s all liquid and comes out in a huge gush as her body clenches. I run a hand down my face.
Behind me, Hazel gasps. “Oh, Rya.”
There’s not quite enough room for me to get in there with her because her body is blocking the door from opening all the way. My head swings toward her roommate with a silent plea in my eyes.
“Yeah, let me.” Hazel shoots me an apologetic look and squeezes through the small opening and immediately pulls the hair back from Rya’s face. “The one time your hair’s not up in a bun, huh?” She glances into the toilet, then back at me with her nose scrunched up. “Looks like?—”
“Rum. We had a lot of rum. I remember that much.” Rya exhales hard, shaking her head. “I feel like death, but I think I’m done for the moment.” Unsteady, she climbs to her feet with Hazel’s help, and they both shuffle out of the stall. My friend keeps her gaze averted, choosing to move directly to one of the many sinks to wash her hands rather than look at me. If I’m not mistaken, it hasn’t hit her yet that she’s in the men’s room. Fuck. How the fuck did that happen? Forget that, how did I let this happen?
Clutching at the basin with one hand, she cups the other, bringing water to her mouth, and swishes it around before spitting it out. “I’m not risking swallowing anything else just yet,” she mumbles. “I threw up a minute after I took some ibuprofen. ”
I grit my teeth. “Okay. But you know you need to hydrate eventually.”
She nods, finally casting her gaze toward me. “Yes. Of course. I’m not an idiot, Logan. I just?—”
Hazel winces and steps in, rubbing a hand over her back. “You can’t right this second. It’s okay. No one thinks you’re an idiot. We both get it.”
And I do for sure. But I’m also worried as fuck for her. She’s shaking, and I want to hug her, but it seems like she’s not happy with me for some reason. It’s agonizing to stand aside and not wrap her up in my arms. I’m her best friend. I’m supposed to fucking protect her from shit like this. I hang my head, staring at Rya’s bare feet, her toenails painted purple, then let myself trail my gaze up her bare legs. Shit. We need to know more about how she came to be in this men’s bathroom wearing what looks like some dude’s T-shirt—because while she has pilfered a few of my shirts, that one sure as fuck isn’t mine.
Hazel’s been talking to Rya while I’ve been lost in my head, but she pauses a moment, catching her attention in the mirror. “So, uh. Did you get back to the dorm right before this happened?” She gasps, her hands flying up to cover her grinning mouth. “Wait! Oh my god, did you just execute your very first walk of shame?”
Rya finally turns around, shaking her head. “No.” She’s pale, her makeup from last night smudged under her eyes and partially tracked down her cheeks from her tears. Her face flushes with embarrassment as her eyes flick from Hazel to me. “I don’t know what happened.”
A crease forms down the center of my forehead. I step close to her, tucking her hair behind her ear. Softly, but urgently, I whisper, “Where have you been? We texted but you didn’t answer.”
“I don’t—” She looks down at her hands. “I don’t even know where my phone is.” Catching her lip between her teeth, she shakes her head. Her nose has turned red, a telltale sign that she’s about to start crying. Her eyes are full of unshed tears as she looks up at me from under her dark lashes. “I don’t know,” she repeats, her frustration mounting.
“Do you wanna go back to your room?” I gently run my hand back and forth over her upper back.
“No,” she says quickly. “I’m scared I might need to?—”
I hold up my hands. “Say no more.” Nobody wants to clean up puke off the floor. I lock my hands over my head. “The last we saw, you were with Jaxon.”
“Before they dragged you two upstairs. Yeah.” She draws in a heavy breath. “I remember that, but not much after. I know I did have to go to the bathroom at one point.” Her face reddens. “Not discussing that. It wasn’t my best moment.”
I shut my eyes as my lips pinch together. I really don’t want to know. But I also kinda do. Fuck. What the hell went on after we left?
“Oh, shit, that sucks. But I called it. I knew drinking all that liquor would eventually result in some awkward circumstances.” Hazel grimaces. “Anyway, we waited for you to come upstairs, but when we finally broke down and asked the few people left at the party if they’d seen you, that Trip guy said you had already left. It made no sense.”
I let out a heavy sigh. “Do you remember who you were with after that?”
Rya’s light-green eyes peer up into mine. “I woke up in somebody’s bed a little while ago. No one was with me. My stomach wasn’t right, so I ran out of the room, looking for a bathroom.” She rubs the heel of her hand between her eyes for a moment. “I barely made it in time.” Looking around, she wets her lips. “I’m actually surprised I’m where you all could find me. My recall from the time after I went to use the bathroom last night is hazy.”
Just then, there’s a huff of surprise, then a chuckle as Levi walks in bare chested, his blond hair sticking up in crazy directions. He ignores us, going directly to one of the urinals where he yanks down his pajama pants far enough to whip his dick out, and proceeds to take a piss.
“Oh my god.” Rya shields her eyes, staring at me as she whispers, “Tell me we aren’t in the guys’ bathroom. Tell me I didn’t come in here.” Her eyes slam shut.
“’Fraid so, Twinkle Toes.” Levi gives his dick a shake and tucks it away before joining us at the sinks. He scrubs his hands while we continue to gawk at him. “What?” His gaze bounces from one of us to the other. “Look, I don’t care that you’re in here, nor do I know what’s going on, but this probably isn’t going to fly with the RAs.”
I groan. “Thanks for your input, Levi.”
“No problem,” he quips, running a hand over his muscled chest. “I’m just saying it seems like you all had way too good a time last night. Nice shirt, Rya.” He shakes his head as he pivots to leave. “See you later.”
As he walks out of the bathroom, she peeks down at herself. “What the hell? This is not my shirt.” And this is the first I’ve noticed what’s emblazoned across her chest. “Does that say what I think it does?” She looks up, her lip trembling.
The image of the baseball player taking a swing is innocent enough, but the slogan is crude at best. In fancy script, it reads, Balls Deep, then below the image in bold print, We don’t stop at 3rd base. My jaw tightens at the thought that someone put her in that T-shirt and thought it’d be funny. And the hell of it is it leads me to believe it’s one of the dicks on the baseball team—the same guys I’ll be living and breathing the game with starting this week when our practices begin.
Hazel holds up her phone. “I’m gonna text you, Rya. Let whoever has it know that we’re aware it was left behind.” Rya doesn’t say a word, just gives a weak nod of acceptance. She must really feel like shit because my usual happy Rya has left the building.
Voice gruff, I murmur, “Yeah. That’s a good idea.” While Hazel quickly shoots off a text, I touch Rya’s shoulder and give a jerk of my head toward the bathroom exit. “Do you feel well enough to go back to your room?”
She pauses a moment, doing an internal check. Finally, with one hand to her forehead and the other hand over her stomach, she nods. “Yeah. Let’s go. I think I might need to sleep this off.”