Page 37 of Bad Man on Campus

There’s only one person I want to talk to, or rather need to talk to. Phoebe. It doesn’t take long to track her down in the back hall not far from the study where I’d been with Glory. I have a feeling Phoebe is looking to talk to me too. I wave her over and open the study door to, once again, have a private conversation. Phoebe follows me into the room a few seconds later and closes the door behind her.

“What’s going on, Kace?” She stands against the door, her expression wary. She knows I know she overheard, so I start in.

“You listened to my conversation with Glory.”

“Not on purpose. I . . . I’m sorry. I heard. It’s so messed up.” She takes a step forward and I take a big gulp of air. I can see the fury unleashing in her eyes. “Why the fuck would you lie for her? To cover up her fucking drunk driving accident? You shouldn’t—”

“You shouldn’t interfere or jump to conclusions,” I shoot back, my voice tight and low, my shoulders screaming with bunched tension, pent-up fury mixing with sadness creating a toxic mix for my roiling gut.

“Why should you take the blame for Glory’s mistake? You have so much more to lose than she does, so much more going for you.”

“You don’t know Glory.” I’m not going to hold one mistake against her for the rest of her life, not when she was trying to help my sister. But I’m not confessing our past tragedy to Phoebe tonight. Or anytime soon.

“You may have good intentions about helping Glory, Kace, but they’re fucked up. No one is going to care.”

“Me and Glory go too far back. I’m not going to let her down.” Not like I did last time.

“No one is going to understand that. SPU doesn’t care, the student body is already dubbing you a bad guy. And the police certainly don’t care about your good intentions.”

“Whatever. I’ll let the chips fall. If I’m misunderstood, if people want to think I’m some bad guy, let ‘em.”

“What if you end up in jail, Kace?”

“I won’t.”

“Is she worth it? She’s a fucking loser drunk—”

“Watch what you say, Phoebe. I consider you a friend, but I won’t if you don’t respect Glory.”

She rolls her eyes, frustration showing in the angry set of her mouth, the glisten of tears in her eyes. Her mouth clamps harder to a thin line, her lips disappearing and taking all the prettiness and softness of her face with them. She shakes her head and walks away, leaving the room.

I don’t know what it means, whether she’s a friend or a foe at this point, but I don’t give a fuck right now. I’m too worried about Glory. Because there’s more than an ounce of truth in Phoebe’s accusation. Glory drinks too much and she has to stop. It’s not about fun and partying anymore. Maybe it never was and I didn’t want to acknowledge it.

Heading back to the party, I search the main room for Glory. I spot Romeo with some chick who looks familiar. The hairs on my arms raise and I try to place her. As I watch, she hangs on Romeo’s every word, which is the dude’s Achilles’ heel because he loves to tell chicks all about himself. Hell, it’s probably every guy in the room’s weakness, if I’m honest, but him more than most. I’m not surprised when they head for the door together, but I can’t shake the feeling I should know who she is, and the feeling that there’s something about her I don’t like.

“Hey, Dooley, you know that chick leaving with Romeo?” I make it my business to keep the guys out of trouble. She may look distantly familiar, but I know she hasn’t been to one of the football parties before. Her long dark hair is distinctive.

Dooley turns to look at her, but as they go out the door, all that shows is her back with the hair falling almost to her ass. He squints.

“I’m not sure. But there’s something familiar about that hair.”

“I know, right?” But not in a good way. I don’t share that with Dooley because I’m probably being paranoid with all the rumors and gossip about me on social media as well as live on campus.

“Where did Glory go?” He shrugs and points in the direction of the kitchen, the room with the bar. Shit.

It’s getting late and more people are starting to leave, so I head to the kitchen to find Glory. A quick glance around tells me she’s not in here, so I check the deck out back and come up empty there too. I search the entire first floor and she’s nowhere to be found. The pit in my stomach feels like it’s being filled with a massive stone. I don’t want to think why she’d be upstairs, but I head there with a sense of urgency.

Before I get there, the bathroom door in the hallway opens up and Glory stumbles out. I catch her with a huff of relief. But it’s short-lived.

“What the fuck, Glory.” She’s almost passed out and clearly not seeing straight. I can tell by the straggly hair around her face that she’s been sick. Now all I want to do is be sick right along with her. A wave of overwhelming sadness washes over me as I lift her from the floor and carry her. She mumbles and wraps an arm around me, snuggling into my chest.

I swear if I wasn’t in the middle of a party with people staring at me from every angle as I carry her to the front door, I would break down and cry right now. A crowd of people are hanging on the front porch including Brick, Fitz, and Phoebe. Fuck. Just what I need.

Fitz bounces from the railing where he’s leaning and follows me down the stairs to my car. He doesn’t say a word, but opens the door. I glance back at the porch and see Brick detaining Phoebe, thank fuck. He seems to always know what to do without being told, without taking credit. Brick always has my back. I glance at Fitz.

“Thanks.” Fitz always has my back too, but with a side of advice, requested or not. Sometimes that’s harder to take than Brick’s unquestioning loyalty. Hell, who am I kidding? I need them both, both kinds of friends, any kind of friends right now. I slide Glory into the passenger seat and her head falls forward, like she’s asleep. I shake her shoulder and she stirs, looks up at me with those eyes, focused on me now, and her lips draw up into a perfect bow. If Fitz wasn’t looking over my shoulder, I’d kiss her, puke breath or not, drunk or not, because I’m hopeless. Bonded by an indelible connection? Absolutely. Smitten? No doubt. In love? I think so.

That’s what we’re here to find out.