Premature Evacuation (Underground Sorority #1) (23 page)

“Taft lured [the victim] back to his house and then forced her to continue drinking,” a source revealed. Eye witness accounts of Taft carrying the victim over his shoulder into his house back up the appalling claims.

A new twist in the investigation came to light today with evidence of Taft’s arrest for reckless driving during Rho Sigma’s winter formal. Throckmorton University has a no tolerance policy when it comes to serving alcohol to minors and breaking federal laws. Taft has been placed on academic probation and has been expelled from his residence inside the on campus Beta Chi Lambda house. A formal hearing will occur following the investigation to determine if further action must be taken.

I clamped a cold palm over my mouth. Oh God. Corey was homeless. And on academic probation, which meant his GPA had to stay higher than 3.0 in order to remain at this school.

Holly pushed one corner of her mouth aside as if to say
eek
. “Yeah, it’s bad.”

My knee rattled for the rest of class. I sent off a frantic
are you okay?
text to Corey. My eyes flipped back and forth from my phone screen to the clock. After class ended, Holly—thank God—voiced all the questions streaming through my head. “Where is he living now?”

“They’re giving him until Sunday to move,” Erin said. She delivered each line like a Broadcast Journalism major should: with no inflection or emotion in her voice. Just the facts, mam.

Sunday
. The first day of Spring Break. Less than a week.

Holly shouldered her messenger bag. “Nate must be devastated.”

“He’s considering joining Corey wherever he ends up.”

“That’s kind of cute,” Holly said.

“I know.” Erin pushed open the door to the hallway. “Can’t live without each other. Full-fledged bromance.”

Holly followed after her. “How come they shut you guys down but Beta Chi got off with only a suspension?”

You guys
. As if that still included me, too. I hung back a little, enough to stave off the awkwardness but still hear them. Still feel part of the conversation I seemed to not actually be part of.

Erin’s heels clicked on the linoleum. “We had two offenses. The formal and….” She whipped her head toward me, the ends of her chestnut-colored bob slapping her cheeks. She didn’t say it, but we all knew what completed her sentence:
me.
“This is basically the equivalent of a warning for Beta Chi. If they can stay out of trouble for the rest of the semester, they’ll be back in full force in the fall.”

Except for Corey. Being kicked out of our respective houses was something we could commiserate in. If we were still speaking…

I stuck my foot into the doorjamb to keep it from slamming in my face. “How is Corey taking all this?”

Erin ignored me as if I hadn’t even asked a question, just soldiered right out the building. Holly paused, glancing from me to Erin. She smoothed down her brown hair and stepped toward me. “Listen, this is going to sound weird and totally inappropriate.”

I squinted at her. Nothing would surprise me these days.

“It’s my birthday on Friday. Everyone’s going to Quigley’s. It would be cool if you came.”

My
yes
flew to the tip of my tongue, ready to be shouted from the rooftops. She was throwing me a life raft while I drowned. But I shifted from one foot to another as I forced a decline to my new and only friend. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” I said. “I wasn’t even drinking last time and everyone freaked out on me.”

“I understand.” She shrugged with one shoulder. “But I thought I’d offer anyway.”

“Thanks.” We stood there awkwardly, the two of us. “Can I ask you something weird and totally inappropriate?”

She laughed. “It’s only fair.”

I rushed on before I could stop myself. “Did you hook up with Corey? Back when you took him to your formal?”

When she stiffened, I immediately wanted to take the question back. It didn’t matter anymore. We were no longer together. We weren’t even together back then.

“We didn’t have sex or anything, if that helps at all,” she said.

So that was a yes. Not sex, but
something
. The confirmation splashed right off me without getting me wet. I’d already concluded as much.

“But don’t worry, I’m not into him anymore.”

It was my turn to echo her words back to her:
I’m not into him anymore
. But we both knew that would be a lie.

It was my fault he gotten kicked out. I’d broken up with him to help me get back to a good place, but I needed to help him too. And there was only way way I could do that. By going right to the source.

I
STORMED INTO THE front entrance of
The Daily Snowflake
and charged down the long hallway. One guy hopped out of the way of my wrath. I pushed open the first door I came to and a guy with large headphones covering his ears glanced up at me in shock. I slammed the door shut and moved onto the next.

Someone tapped me on the back. “What are you looking for?”

“The asshole who ruined everyone’s lives.”

The girl laughed, dark curls bouncing. “You must mean Harrison.”

I crossed my arms. “Tell him his benefactor is here or I search every single room looking for him.”

Somehow I must have looked fierce because the girl told me to wait there while she flew up the stairs. A few minutes later Harrison emerged and swaggered toward me, no glasses this time. I suspected he only wore them when he wanted to be taken seriously.

“Mac! So good to see you.” He leaned toward me and pretended to give me air kisses on both cheeks. “What brings you here? Wait, don’t tell me.” He squinted at me, putting on a grand show of pursing his lips, as he slid his weapon of choice—a tape recorder—out of his pocket. “At least not until I hit record.”

“I’m not falling for that again.”

“It wasn’t a trick, if you recall. Your signed release form proves as much.” He pivoted on the balls of his feet, sneakers squeaking, and led me to the same conference room where he performed his last magic trick that produced the evidence he needed out of thin air. This time he perched on the edge of the table, legs swinging. “So, what can I do for you?”

I stomped right in front of him, invading his personal space. “You can give me answers.”

He donned a mock scoff. “And here I thought there was nothing left to reveal.”

His words twisted the knife in my back deeper. “Why the hell did you go after Corey when you had already gotten Rho Sigma’s house?”

The smirk on his face deepened. An arched brow shot way up by his forehead. “And you thought I’d give you that answer?”

I let out a growl of frustration, anything to stifle the urge to press both palms squarely against his chest and push him over. “I thought there was the slightest minuscule chance a decent person was hiding under there somewhere.”

He rolled his eyes. “All I did was report the absolute facts, at least based on eye witness accounts. I’m not the bad guy here.”

“But you told the whole world.” Or at least all of campus. “So you have nothing against him then? This was all just a way to get someone’s house, anyone’s, and then your latest article was, what? A simple assignment doled out to you by your editor?”

He leaned back on the desk, arms stretched behind him, so relaxed. “Oh, I definitely have a personal vendetta against him. But you got the rest correct.” He stroked his chin with his fingers. “You’re quite good at this investigative reporting stuff. Ever consider becoming a journalist?”

“And stoop to your level? Never.” I straightened. “But please tell me more about this personal vendetta.”

He presented me with a frown. “Sorry, you’ll have to ask him yourself.” He made a grand show of placing his palm over his mouth. “Oh wait, you guys aren’t together anymore, right?” He clucked his tongue. “Sucks.”

And then I did the thing I’d been wanting to do for weeks. I slapped him in the face.

Instead of going back to my dorm, I changed directions and headed right for Beta Chi. Bouncing on my toes, I knocked on the door and coughed against my dry throat. When a brother I didn’t recognize opened the door a crack, I almost turned around to flee. He started to shut the door.

“Is Corey here?” I squeaked. If I planned to do the right thing from now on, I had to actually
do
it.

The guy eased the door closed another centimeter. “And you are?”

See, this was why we needed a definition. I rolodexed through the options. His ex? His on-again-off-again hook up? The girl who destroyed his life? His soul mate? Okay, maybe scratch the last one. “His friend,” I spit out.

“He said no visitors.”

“Can you please tell him Mac’s here?” I kept my body stiff and rigid, afraid even the slightest leeway in my posture would make me collapse.

The guy pursed his chapped thin lips, probably starved for water instead of beer. “I’m not a messenger.”

“His room is at the top of the stairs, third one on the left. The middle toilet in your second floor bathroom has been clogged for months. Your chef’s name is Carlos.” I rattled off any evidence I could think of that would act as my credentials. “Corey wears those stupid gray sweatpants with the hole in the knee every freaking morning. He keeps a bottle of hot sauce in his mini fridge because he’s super protective of that stuff and can’t bear to share.”

Time could stretch or shrink, always disobeying you and giving you the opposite of what you wanted. The time I spent with Corey rushed by so fast I could barely comprehend it anymore. And now minutes dragged as I stood on the porch in zero degree weather, my cheeks stinging, my fingers turning to icicles.

“Okay, fine. Point taken. You actually know him.” The guy opened the door for me and yawned.

I darted past him before he could change his mind and took the stairs two at a time. At Corey’s door, I banged my fist several times. “Come in,” he said from somewhere in the room, which made me question the brother’s announcement that Corey had decreed no visitors. What he probably meant was no
smarmy reporters named Harrison Wagner
.

I pushed open the door incrementally. I’d been so determined in my decision to come here but now my pulse amped. Corey glanced up from where he sprawled on the bed, his mouth parted. Memories gurgled to the surface of my mind at the sight of his bed, nearly sidelining me.
His hand splayed across my inner thigh
.
His signature moan and then sheepish smile as he announced, “well, I’m spent.” The tingles that spread all over my body from his slightest touch.

Little islands of red blotchiness dotted across the map of his face. His unkempt hair poked through the bottom of his backwards hat, his facial scruff a little longer than usual. Boxes littered the room, most empty, but a few filled with one or two random items as if he’d thrown shirts across the room in homage to a carnival ring toss game. A small box sat on the coffee table filled with all my toiletries. It was the only box fully packed.

“What are you doing here?” His voice came out all raspy like it did first thing in the morning or that one time he’d cried in front of me. He glanced away toward the wall.

“Corey, I’m so sorry.” I swallowed hard and stepped toward him. I’d said those words so many times now, they’d already lost meaning, so I tried a new tactic. “Are you okay?”

He looked at me like I was crazy. Or naïve. Of course he wasn’t okay. He was a delicate, white, puffy, dandelion; one deep exhale and all the seeds would disperse into the air.

“Have you told your parents?”

“Yeah.” He shut his eyes, his lashes fluttering. “They won’t pay rent anymore. Just tuition, though even that’s debatable. Which is great because in order to find another place, I have to put down first month and security, neither of which I have.” He draped his arm over his eyes. “I don’t have time for a job. I have classes! And actual studying to do now that I have to get my grades up.”

A job was a foreign concept for Corey. A step down. Not just a means to an end, but an end to it all.

“If you need help—looking for an apartment or something. I’m here.” I tried to sound supportive.