“I know who your brother is. Everyone does.” She smoothed a hand over her bangs. “But I didn’t know you were good friends with Jase.”
I shrugged. “He was drunk, so I couldn’t let him drive home. He crashed on the couch. That’s about all. Not an exciting story to tell.”
One dark brow arched. “And why was he here when he was drunk?”
Fuuuuuck. Good question. I bought time by taking a nice long drink of the coffee. “He was seeing someone else or something. And he was drunk and texted me to say hi.”
She scrunched up her nose. “Well, that is boring.”
I laughed. “Sorry.”
“Damn, I was hoping I was going to get some dirty details and live vicariously through you.” She laughed when my eyes widened. “Come on, Jase has this . . . I don’t know, this intensity about him. Like he’d be the kind of guy who fucks you and changes your life.”
“Fucks you and changes your life?” I repeated dumbly. The few times I had sex hadn’t been that impressive. “That is some serious penis skills.”
Debbie laughed as she flopped onto her back, managing to hold on to her Styrofoam cup without spilling anything. “Penis skills? Oh my God . . .”
I cracked a grin as I held the cup close. “Erik wasn’t with you, was he?”
“Nope.”
Tension eased out of my neck. If Erik had been, I was sure he would go back to Cam or one of the other frat brothers. “Can I ask you a favor? Can you not tell Erik that Jase was here? I don’t want people getting the wrong idea—”
“Like they obviously would,” she teased.
“Exactly. And I wouldn’t want Cam to get ticked off for no apparent reason.”
She rolled onto her side, placing her cup on the nightstand. “Cam the overprotective brother type?”
I snorted. “You have no idea.”
“That’s nice though, having someone looking out for you,” she said, stretching her legs. “I bet he’s a pain in the ass when it comes to boyfriends.”
I took another drink and figured it was time to change the conversation. “Speaking of boyfriends, I’m surprised Erik didn’t come back with you.”
She bit down on her lip. “He wanted to go back to the party, so . . .”
So what Erik wanted, Erik got. Just like Jeremy. I glanced down at my cup, wanting to say something, but felt like I’d be overstepping a line. But to remain silent was a killer. No one at school had asked questions when they saw Jeremy grab my arm or yell at me for the most insignificant infractions. Everyone had turned a blind eye. It was easier that way.
I squeezed my eyes shut as the feeling of helplessness returned like an old, needy friend you couldn’t get rid of. I wasn’t that girl anymore. I wasn’t a victim.
When Debbie’s phone went off, I opened my eyes to see her quickly pull it out of her pocket. “Hey, babe, I was—” Her words were cut off suddenly, and I stiffened. “I know—yes. Yes! I just left to get some coffee. You—” She twisted at the waist and swung her feet onto the floor. As she stood, her eyes met mine. A crimson stain swept across her cheeks. She looked away quickly as she hurried out of the room. “Erik, babe, I’m sorry. I didn’t know—”
She stopped at the door, bending to pick up the sandals she kicked off. Her cotton shorts rode up her thigh, revealing the skin just below her hip. I gasped, but the sound must’ve been lost in whatever Erik was saying to her.
Bruises in an array of yellow and blue marred her skin. Some old. Some so fresh, so vibrantly purple, that I knew they had to have been created within the last twenty-four hours.
Debbie straightened, sandals dangling from the tips of her fingers. “I’m coming over now. I just need to get gas—I know you told me to get gas last night, but it was late . . .” She sucked in a breath. “I’m sorry.”
Pressure clamped down on my chest as I watched her close the door behind her. I closed my eyes, but I couldn’t erase what I saw or what it meant. All the bruises, a large cluster of blotches, were inflicted where they could not be normally seen.
They’d been hidden.
My shirt was already starting to cling to the middle of my back, and my right knee ached. The walk from history class in Whitehall all the way to music appreciation on west campus was truly a bitch in this heat. Even worse was the fact that if I wanted to eat anything, I would have to walk my happy ass back to east campus.
“You should’ve taken the bus,” Calla Fritz said, shifting her messenger-style book bag to the other shoulder. “There’s no reason for you to walk this far.”
“I’m okay.”
“My bullshit radar just went off.” Calla tugged her long, golden ponytail out from underneath the strap of her bag. I’d only met her last week when I started class. We shared history and music together, but in the short period of time, I discovered she was pretty blunt when she wanted to be.