Ruin (3 page)

Weston

I should have let well enough alone. My doctor would have told me I was playing with things I should just forget about. After all, he’d say, how much time do you have? I was damn sick of hearing him say that. Ridiculous. Even my dad was tired of the doctors. Then again, I was tired of them when I was eight and was told my mom wasn’t going to make it through surgery.

And again last year, at the hospital when my brother didn’t wake up from his… situation. Some people believe our family was cursed. After all, you can’t have as much power and money that we do and not suffer the consequences. When I was little, my Sunday School teacher told me that sometimes tragedy happened in order to keep us relying on God.

How much more trusting does God need me to be? I mean, I’d lost everything, and last year almost lost my reputation and football career, all because I said no. Funny, nobody ever talks about guys being taken advantage of.

I gripped the phone in my hands. I had her number. How creepy was I? Seriously. I hacked the school system and pulled her number from it. The poor girl already thought I was stalking her, probably wouldn’t help my case if I suddenly called her up and said, “Hey.” Loser. I was an absolute loser. I’d never had trouble getting girls, in fact, I felt a bit gun shy after last year.

My entourage helped.

I only called them that because it made it sound so much cooler than it really was. A knock sounded on the door. I got up but it opened before I had a chance. David strolled in, all three hundred pounds of him, and threw my prescription on the table. “How’s it going?”

“Fantastic,” I lied, and quickly hid the piece of paper I’d written Kiersten’s number on.

“You feeling okay?” David leaned forward and pointed the flashlight in my eyes, like some sort of scientist. I slapped it away.

“Fine.” I cleared my throat and stood. For a brief moment I felt dizzy; that’s what I got for standing up too fast. “Where’s James?”

“Out.” David sighed as if he was tired of me asking a million questions. “He’ll be back to walk you to practice. You can walk, right?”

I rolled my eyes. “I can walk. It’s not like I’m drunk or anything.”

“You stood up too fast,” he said to himself, then pulled out his notepad and wrote a few things down. “Have you been feeling dizzy lately? Out of breath?”

Hmm, did meeting a new girl that took my breath away count? How about being dizzy from her perfume? What would David have to say about that?

“My dad pays you to keep me sane, not nurse me.” I scowled.

David’s eyes narrowed. “You look pale.”

“Shit.” I rubbed my face with my hands. “Can I please have one normal moment? Just one, where you aren’t scribbling on your damn notepad and we aren’t discussing my father or money or my future or—”

David held up his hand. “Got it. Sorry, Wes.”

I felt bad. But at the same time I was irritated all over again. I’d been on edge for months now, and I knew me snapping at David was just going to be another thing he documented when my father asked for his report.

He around the dorm. “Your room looks nice.”

“No small talk.” I laughed. “My room looks exactly how it’s supposed to, clean and approachable. I am an RA you know.”

“Yes, and I’m the queen,” David said dryly.

“Right.” I grabbed my keys and phone. “We’re going to a party tonight.”

“We?” His eyebrows lifted.

“Yes, we. You, James, and myself. I need to meet the rest of the students in my dorm and I can’t do that if I hole up in my room like some sick—” The words died in my throat. I bit down on my lower lip and allowed the dizziness to pass again. “I’m going to go work out.”

“Should you be—”

“It’s all I have,” I snapped again. “I’m not quitting football too, David. Write it down in your little notepad and tell that to my dad. My career is football. I’m too damn good to give it up. The only reason I stayed in college this long was to make everyone happy, but now that—” Again the words faded out. I didn’t want to finish the sentence, instead, I shook my head at David.

He seemed to understand. With a jerky nod, he followed me out of the room and into the elevator. I needed to sweat off the stress of the day, but mainly I needed to stop thinking about the girl with the pretty eyes and even prettier hair. It was long, almost to her waist, but so freaking thick that I couldn’t stop thinking about what it would feel like to thread my fingers through it.

She was the first girl I’d let touch me since Lorelei. Not that I’d actually let her touch me, more like she plowed into me. Nonetheless, I hadn’t flinched. Instead, I’d wanted more.

Clearly I’d wanted more, since I’d all but stalked her for the past few hours. Probably not the way to go about things.

The elevator doors opened with a ding. David and I walked out, and people stared, like
really
stared. You’d think I’d be used to it by now, but I wasn’t. I hated it. People always wanted something from me. Funny, because I’d give my left arm to be any one of them. I’d gladly take the place of the guy picking his nose by the front door, or even the chick with glasses and buck teeth. I’d trade spots and run in the opposite direction. Not because I hated my life — nope, it was the exact opposite. I loved life.

The doors to the dorm opened.

A few girls held up cell phones, most likely to take pictures. I sighed. Freshman.

I gave a little wave and continued walking, just as James walked up by David and took my left side.

A few more girls giggled as they crossed paths with me. One appeared to faint.

This was my life.

Chapter Six

Into the fire
—
or maybe it’s out of the fire and into…
wait, I don’t remember. Hell?

Kiersten

“You ready?” Lisa wiped some lip gloss from her mouth and checked herself out in the mirror. “Because I know I am.”

I laughed. “Yes, you are.” She had on a miniskirt, heels, and a short shirt. I’d never be caught dead wearing something like that. Uncle Jo would kill me. I would want to kill me. I mean, that’s how girls got into trouble.

“Okay.” She turned, a scowl on her face. “You can’t wear that.”

“What?” I looked down at my straight-leg jeans and boots, I had a white T-shirt on and my hair in a ponytail.

“It’s a party.”

“I know.” I shrugged. “I’m wearing clothes.”

“Yes.” Lisa’s tone was far from encouraging. “But you’re also not a nun, and right now you look like you’re homeschool.”

Homeschool? All the kids I knew that were homeschool were completely normal, crap I’d begged my uncle to homeschool me after everything. I looked down at my clothes and shrugged.

A heavy pounding assaulted the door and then Gabe burst through. “Damn, cousin, you aiming to get laid tonight?”

She smiled.

Gabe’s eyes fell to me. “And you’re dressed like a first grade teacher. Why?”

“Very funny.”

“Wasn’t kidding.” He mock-choked as his eyebrows danced suggestively.

With a sigh I turned back to Lisa. “This is the type of thing I wear. I don’t wear short skirts and belly tops and—”

“See, the very fact that you called this,” she pointed at her shirt, “A belly top, tells me one thing.”

“What?”

“You need help.”

Gabe nodded his agreement.

“Guys, I’m not Cinderella.”

Smirking, Gabe leaned in and murmured, “Drop your shoe, I dare you.”

“Ohhh, he wants to pick up your shoe.” Lisa joked.

“It’s a boot,” I clarified, lifting my foot to show off the shiny black leather.

“Either or.” Gabe gave a flirty shrug. “And clothes or no clothes, you’re still hot, but if I were you, and I had Weston–freaking-Michels panting after me, I’d make him work for it.”

“I, uh…” Playing with my long ponytail, I looked in the mirror. They were right. I looked Amish. I used to be into fashion, but lately things just seemed semi-pointless. At least I was eating and showering — not that Gabe and Lisa needed to know that. It was a giant feat for me to be able to take care of myself.

“Fine.” I rolled my eyes “I’ll wear a different shirt, but that’s where I draw the line.”

Lisa grinned and clapped her hands. “Deal!”

Ten minutes later and I was really doubting my ability to appear normal. The shirt she’d given me didn’t meet the top of my jeans. In fact, there was a good two inches of skin showing. I’d tried to hunch over but then Gabe started calling me Quasimodo, which made me second-guess the whole humpback look.

The party was being held at the main lobby. Things couldn’t get that out of hand, right? I mean, it was a school-sanctioned party. It wasn’t as if they’d have drugs and alcohol or anything.

Uncle Jo had warned me about mixing alcohol with my prescription. Apparently it made people get drunk like twice as fast. Meaning, if I took one drink I’d be dancing around the lobby with a lampshade on my head. Well, at least I wouldn’t be self-conscious about my short shirt anymore.

The minute we walked into the lobby, people stared. It wasn’t the type of stare you got when you had food in your teeth, more like, a curious stare. Maybe it was Gabe. I stood closer to him, and he wrapped his arms around me and Lisa.

“This happens a lot with Gabe.” Lisa laughed and landed a mock-punch to his biceps. “People can’t figure out if he’s hot or just deranged.”

“Thanks, Lisa.” Gabe’s eyes narrowed in her direction then he whispered in my ear, “But for the record, I’m just hot.”

“Of course you are,” I said patronizingly.

He threw his head back and laughed. I didn’t think I could ever be attracted to him, but something about him seemed comfortable, like if I asked him to drive me the four hours home to Bickelton in the middle of the night, he’d say okay and buy me coffee while he was at it. I’d never really had a friend like that before. It was nice.

“So…” Lisa’s gaze scanned the crowd. “Where is he?”

“Your mystery man for the night?” Gabe asked as he walked over to the punch and got us each a cup.

“No.” Lisa’s eyes continued to dart around the room. “Weston. Where is he? He’s the RA, so he has to be here—”

“Do I?” a smooth voice said from behind us. “See, I thought I just had to make an appearance. I didn’t think anyone would actually be searching me out.”

Other than the music pounding through the sound system, it was quiet. I could tell people were trying to hear what he was saying as they edged toward our little group.

He all but ignored Lisa and Gabe. His eyes focused only on mine. “You came.”

“I was forced.”

“Coerced.” Lisa rolled her eyes.

Gabe watched the exchange with open amusement.

Weston was still staring.

Apparently having enough of the awkwardness, Gabe moved me to the side and held out his hand to Weston. “We think she’s homeschool, it’s why she doesn’t talk.” He pointed back to me. I could feel my face heat to five hundred degrees. “But she’s cute as hell so we keep her around. This one is my cousin.” He pointed to Lisa. “And I’m pretty sure you and I had a KI class together.”

Weston’s eyes left mine and landed on Gabe. Nodding, he shook his hand firmly. “Yeah, I think it was archery.”

“Best class ever.” Gabe sighed.

“Ah, now I remember.” Weston laughed. “You’re the guy who shot the professor in the ass with the arrow.”

“She turned me down.” Gabe shrugged.

“Sexual harassment.” Lisa fake-coughed.

Waving her off, Gabe continued talking. “How’s practice going?”

“He’s talking football,” Lisa whispered. “Shh, it’s like watching a baby turtle trying to find the ocean. He’s either going to get eaten because he knows shit about sports, or he’s going to swim free into the ocean and discover he’s a real boy.”

“It’s good.” Weston ignored us. “You know how practice is, brutal. But it’s going to be a good season.”

“You think you’ll get a bowl this year?” Gabe asked, sounding genuinely interested.

“Good Lord the turtle made it!” Lisa whispered in my ear.

“Yeah.” Weston’s eyes flickered to mine before he nodded at Gabe. “Coach is hoping for the championship. After the loss last year to Oregon, we kind of want to redeem ourselves.”

“Tell me about it.” Gabe sighed. “I hate the Ducks.”

“Green and yellow, green and yellow,” Lisa sang behind him.

“I will think nothing about punching you in the face if you sing that again.” Gabe swore.

Lisa grinned. “Well, my work here is done. I just saw one of the guys I met at registration. He walked in, our eyes met. Now I’m going to meet him in the middle of the dance floor.”

When she left, Gabe murmured, “She likes to narrate her own life.”

“Cool.” I laughed. “She needs her own soundtrack.”

“Don’t tell her that.” Gabe shook his head. “I wouldn’t put it past her to start singing rather than talking. And I’m already losing IQ points by hanging out with her.”

The conversation slid into a lull. Weston was still staring. Gabe’s grin grew wider by the minute. Finally, he mumbled something about spiking the punch and walked off. Which really just meant that Weston was the worst RA in the history of RA’s. Especially if he was okay with Gabe spiking things.

“Let’s take a walk.” He offered his arm.

I paused, staring at the outstretched arm and then back at his eyes. “I don’t know if I should.”

“I didn’t do it.” He swallowed, his eyes closing for a brief second before meeting mine again. “The rape? I’m sure you’ve heard about it by now. You can trust me. In fact, I’ll even let you have one of the rape whistles.”

“You carry them?” My eyes widened.

“Hey, guys get raped too.” His smile fell, and then he reached into his pocket and handed me a whistle. “Don’t forget the most important part about owning one of these babies.”

“What?” I took the red whistle in my hands and examined it.

Weston’s breath fanned my face. “Blow.”

“Huh?” Okay, I was going to pass out. His lips were inches from mine.

“You have to blow…” His full lips expanded into a bold grin. “The whistle. You know, in order to get help.”

“Oh,” I said, breathless. “Right.”

He led me out of the lobby. I was lucky to be walking in straight lines after that little exchange. I had no idea why I’d captured his attention, but I still had that sinking feeling in the back of my mind that it wasn’t a good thing. Being his friend would never work and being more scared me half to death.