Page 44 of Cheap Shot

Hockey player.

My eyes adjusted enough that I could look around. My face looked back at me from a picture on top of the dresser. Ethan.

The scent. It was him. This was his bed.

Which meant the person in the other bed was Reid.

I glanced back, hoping I was wrong and Ethan had just slept there, but the back was missing the three freckles that formed a perfect triangle on his shoulder blade.

That wasn’t my brother.

I fell back against the pillow. What happened last night? Why did I feel like I got hit by a train?

It didn’t matter. I needed to get to my room. I could take some medicine and shower and sleep through whatever flu this was. All I had to do was move.

I closed my eyes and groaned then rolled to my side so I could quietly drop my legs to the floor. My movements weren’t as smooth as I hoped, and I stumbled a bit, reaching out to hold onto Ethan’s bed so I didn’t fall over. A horrible screech of worn metal filled the room.

Reid shot up and stared at me. “Haley? What are you doing?”

This was the last thing I wanted to do right now. I just wanted to get to my own bed.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.”

He slid off his bed and took a step toward me. “I didn’t think you would wake up for a while.”

What did that mean? I wanted to ask if he knew what happened and how I ended up here, but that would mean admitting I didn’t remember, and that felt like a bad thing.

“How are you feeling?”

“Okay,” I said quickly.

His eyes narrowed. “Haley, I know that’s not true. Tell me how you’re really feeling.”

I didn’t know what to say. I wasn’t great, but now that I was up, I was pretty confident I could make it to my room.

“Do you remember what happened?” he asked in a voice that nearly broke me. He sounded scared.

I stared back at him, losing my internal fight to lie to him. “No.”

He took another step toward me, reaching for my arm. I looked down at myself. The high-waisted jeans and red shirt were unexpected. I didn’t own these. I blinked as flashes of the night before came into my mind. Dressing up with the girls. The party at the frat house. The one I wasn't supposed to go to. Dancing. A guy. Nothing after that.

I touched my forehead. “What?”

He put his hand on my shoulders. “Someone gave you a roofie. You called me from the bathroom to come get you.”

“Someone drugged me?” I couldn’t believe it. Not again.

“I think they slipped it into your water. You told me on the phone that was all you were drinking.”

I nodded. I remembered that. I didn’t like drinking, especially around people I didn’t know, so I followed Linc’s advice and got in the habit of filling a cup with water to make it look like I had a drink.

“Were you with anyone other than your friends?”

I leaned back against the bed and his hands slid down to my wrist, then he took my hands in his, not letting go.

“There was a group of guys. I started feeling a panic attack so I went outside with Ella and two of the guys. She left, and it was just me and him, so I told him I wanted to go back inside. I started to feel anxious again, and it was too crowded.” I shook my head. “That’s all I remember.”

“Did he give you a drink?”