Premature Evacuation (Underground Sorority #1) (26 page)

Harrison followed our every step. The skittish beat pulsing through the room made this feel like a high speed car chase. “Oh, but it’s a bar. I have more right to be here than you.” He pressed his smarmy finger against his lips. “Maybe I should inform the school.”

Corey’s hands balled into fists. “You forget, I’m actually twenty-one.” He smirked, the upper hand evident in his face. “Unlike you.”

“Or your girl.”

Corey stepped forward, his nose landing only an inch from Harrison’s. Their staring contest could win a Guinness record. I tugged on his shirt, trying to pull him back, but he wouldn’t budge. One of them would strike first, but I wasn’t sure if the blow would involve fists or words. People near us caught on to the squabble, turning in our direction. Fingers tapped against shoulders, urging them to look, spreading as fast as the wave at a sports arena.

“Corey,” I whisper-screamed over the blasting music. “Ignore him. Anything you say can and will be used against you out of context.” I reached around his body and took hostage of his arm, intertwining my fingers in his. I could keep him safe, if he’d let me.

The tension in Corey’s arm disappeared. He took a deep breath, then pivoted on his heels back toward me, his face still hard and angry.

“Get used to it,” Harrison called after him. Fierce rap lyrics robbed my ears of the rest of his words, leaving me to piece them together myself. The sucked in gasps and flying whispers deciphered the rest of Harrison’s message. The crowd of unmoving bodies—barriers—blocked our escape as well. When Corey didn’t acknowledge what he’d said, Harrison so kindly repeated. “Get used to letting me win. Out House is coming back with a vengeance, we’re going to be king of campus again. I’m just exterminating the competition in advance.”

Coming
back
to campus? I thought they were an Underground fraternity, not one that once reigned supreme but lost its charter.

Like Rho Sigma.

I sucked in a breath, my body pulsating hot as an idea to save Rho Sigma and make things right for my friends occurred to me. An idea that just might work.

Corey broke free of my hand and charged for his enemy. People blocking his path hopped out of the way. The fabric of Corey’s shirt sifted through my fingers like sand. The horror of the situation descended so fast, I couldn’t even comprehend its tempo.

Corey brought his hand back as if to strike Harrison. Harrison stood there, waiting, wanting this, probably so he could use Corey’s weakness to Out House’s advantage. Right before Corey’s fist could connect with Harrison’s jaw, another hand flew out of nowhere and struck Harrison’s cheek from the opposite direction, so hard, Harrison flew backward into the counter. The girls near him gasped, jumping out of the way.

Nate rubbed his fist and clenched his jaw.

Harrison’s head lolled, hand flying to his cheek. The bouncer grabbed Nate and twisted him in the direction of the door. Nate and Corey exchanged head nods before the bouncer led Nate outside. The corners of my lips curled into a smile. Nate had taken one for the team.

Corey dropped shaky hands to his sides, sweat beading across his forehead.

“Come on,” I said. I laced my fingers in his and tugged him toward the back of the bar before he decided to take a second shot at the enemy. The crowd moved easily out of our path. I backed him into the corner again, the one private spot where we could have a conversation without an audience overhearing.

“Fuck.” Corey scrubbed his hands over his face, leaving behind blotchy red spots. “I don’t know why he gets me so—I’m not like that. I’m not violent.”

“I know you’re not.” I rubbed his back, my hands flying over all the contours of his shoulder blades. I offered him soothing shhh sounds, which make me feel more like a babysitter than an (ex)girlfriend. “He was trying to get you to snap. It’s okay.”

“Mac, I’m not that guy. I don’t want to be that guy.” He leaned against the wall and shielded his eyes with his hand. I braced my palms against his hips, taking control for once.

“You’re actually pretty sensitive, you know? I don’t know why you keep that side of you so hidden. It’s my favorite part.” The tears that streamed down his face after the car accident. All those sweet nothings he’d whisper in my ear outside of sex. He was only playing the role of destructive frat boy, a true character actor who suppressed his real self in order to get the part perfect. Like I’d done.

He dropped his hand from his face and looked at me, mouth parted. “Because it’ll get me beat up. Like it did in high school.”

“You got beat up in high school?” This didn’t fit with the image of Corey that stood before me, the one he so carefully groomed in public.

“I was a loser back then.” He shrugged. His hands slid down the sides of my body, finding their home around my waist. Heat pulsed on my skin wherever he touched. “I decided to change it up in college but I guess I went haywire with my bad boy image, trying to prove to myself that I belonged in Beta Chi, that I wasn’t the pansy Mama’s boy I was in high school whose own girlfriend was so bored by him she cheated.” His expression draws tight.

Gears click into place inside my brain, all the pieces of him now making a complete puzzle. I lifted up on tip toes and nuzzled my nose into the crook of his neck. His body heat that always kept me warm on cold nights wrapped around me now. “She sounds like a real idiot.”

He chuckled. “I’m realizing that now.”

I dropped a single kiss on the soft skin of his neck before I pulled back. He’d been about to confess something when Harrison interrupted us. “So, about what I said when I walked out of your room?” I prompted.

Corey leaned in, pressing his cheek against mine, stubble scraping. His arms tightened around me, and we swayed to the rhythm of the music, breathing hard and rapid. Our bodies were always in perfect rhythm with each other, a complete harmony of the motion. When we danced, we made love. We had the same comprehension of the two performances, always knowing how to contort our own body to compliment the other’s. The dancing was silent. Body language acted as our voice.

“You didn’t answer my question,” I whispered after the pop song ended. A new one came on, one of my favorites by Clever Trevor, my lips urged to scream the lyrics at him and engage in our subtle secret coding like status messages, but I held back, knowing we had to say it ourselves for it to actually come true.

“Maybe I just like dancing.” He grinned. “With you,” he added. His fingers slid into my hair, forking through the strands.

He attempted to tilt my head up to peer at him, but I didn’t submit to his control. I wouldn’t be a marionette anymore. I needed to be in control of my own actions. “Still not an answer,” I teased. “No more stringing each other along, okay? No more gray area with us.”

There was a long, long pause. My life passed during that pause. It was as if I had blinked and opened my eyes to find my skin wrinkly and my body ridden with osteoporosis.

“That gray area you hate so much?” he finally said. “Everything in between, the confusing stuff, the stuff you don’t understand? That’s love.”

I’ve always heard about that line between love and hate. So thin, so easy to cross. I heard it was breakable with two sides divided in unison. I wanted to make it thick like a barrier, uncrossable. As transparent as a glass wall. As apparent as police tape. As strong as my love that should’ve been hatred.

“Yes.” My breath caught in my throat. “It is.” The intensity of the conversation pulsed through the crowded bar and the raging beats that made the floor vibrate. Our connection was as intense as a four-alarm fire. “So what you’re saying is…?” I needed to hear those three words, an official declaration.

He grinned, his voice filled with the hint of laughter. “That I hate you. For making me feel this way when it scares the hell out of me.”

“That…wasn’t exactly the declaration I was looking for.”

“No?” He pursed his lips. “How about this: I want you to come over.”

I let the moment dawdle for several moments before I tapped my finger to my lips. “Incorrect. Try again.”

“But that was a good one!” He leaned in, breath hot on my ear. “It would mean I get to hold you all night.”

I let out a growl of frustration. “You’re getting warmer.”

“All right. I’m terrified to go home for Spring Break and spend a week with my parents so I’m staying here. You should stay here with me.”

My eyelashes fluttered. I’d planned to spend the whole week at home working on my pieces for the gallery showcase…but I wasn’t exactly thrilled to see my dad. Not when it meant I’d have to tell him about the hospital excursion in person. Before he received the bill. Phone would certainly be easier…wimpier. “I could be convinced of that…but only if you say what I need to hear.”

He pulled back from me, cocking one eyebrow, his fingers scratching his chin. “But I like to watch you squirm too much to do that.” The corners of his lips rose upward in the most brilliant smile. “I’m just fucking with you.” And then: “I agree with you, that breaking up was a mistake. I want to get back together.” His grin strengthened. “I want you to be my girlfriend.”

That wasn’t the exact three words I wanted, but I’d take it. For now.

I
WOULD HAVE LEFT with Corey immediately, eager to start my term as
official girlfriend
, but I didn’t know if Fallon was still in the bar. I couldn’t ditch her again, so I told MY BOYFRIEND I wanted to do a sweep through the room just in case. Almost immediately after integrating into the packed crowd, people swarmed Corey, and the gossip hounds jabbered.

I made a lap through the crowd, gaining weird looks from people either recognizing me as the girl who closed Rho Sigma, or as the girl who kept the star of tonight’s show occupied for so long. I squeezed into the dark hallway that held the bathrooms and the doorway to where Corey and I had once engaged in alley sex. Usually a line snaked out past the DJ booth, but I guessed it was too early in the evening for seals to break.

Opening the bathroom door a crack, I stuck my head inside, scanning for Fallon. A girl’s sharp intake of breath made me jump. My eyes met Bianca’s red-rimmed ones in the mirror.

“Are you okay?” I tiptoed into the bathroom and eased the door shut behind me, afraid any sudden movements might startle the delicate balance of being in the same room as her again.

She swiped at her eyes. “Fine. Well, no. I…I told Nate how I felt.” She braced her hands on either side of the porcelain sink.

My stomach dropped to the floor. I thought back to last fall, when Corey had urged me not to let Bianca tell Nate. I’d never discouraged her. Another infraction on my long list of mistakes. “What happened?” I stepped forward and risked placing a comforting palm on her shoulder.

“You saw. He punched someone.” Bianca uncapped a compact and dabbed powder around her eyes.

I waited for something more but that seemed to be the entire explanation. “I’m…confused. What does punching Harrison have to do with anything?”

“He wasn’t just punching Harrison. He was
saving
Corey from further trouble.” The compact fumbled from her hands and crashed into the sink. “He likes Corey, not me.”

My mouth gaped. I did not see that one coming.

“In the middle of my confession, he practically mowed me over to leap in and be Corey’s knight in shining armor.” She scrambled to get her phone out of her purse and held it up to me, the screen smudged with mascara streaks.

An email from Nate, sent about ten minutes after being kicked out of the bar. I pictured him standing in the freezing cold, frost bitten fingers pounding out the truth.

B—

I should explain. I’ve known for a while that you liked me. And part of me knew it would be easier that way, so I let the flirtation continue. But I lived in fear you’d act on your feelings one day and the jig would be up.

My parents are stodgy republicans who organized an anti-abortion rally just last month. That’s a thing people actually do in my hometown. They didn’t speak to my sister for an entire year after learning she’d had pre-martial sex even though she’d used protection and loved the guy and all that crap. They’d disown me if they found out I’m gay.

There, I said it. Well, typed it.

Only two people know, now three. I finally confessed to Corey right before your formal. All those nights last fall when I told you I was crashing in the gross basement due to being sexiled? I was actually sleeping in another guy’s room. In his bed. But then we broke up and I took my frustration out on Mackenzie, which probably wasn’t fair to her but whatever.

Because the truth is, I was jealous of her. So I know what it feels like to be in love with your best friend. I am too.

I hope this doesn’t destroy our friendship. My feelings for you may be strictly platonic, but they’re still strong. I don’t want to lose you.

—N

I clamped a cold palm over my mouth. Holy shit. No wonder Nate hated me. All this time I’d been thinking he was this huge asshole but he’d been carrying such a heavy burden on his shoulders. “I know it hurts, but think of it this way. It’s not a loss. You still have a really good friend.”