2 Whispering (11 page)

I can’t remember a lot about the walk home – other than it was cold. I happily tumbled into bed still dressed and didn’t open my eyes again until 10 a.m. the next morning.

When I did manage to wrench my eyes open it took me a second to get my bearings. I was afraid the room was spinning at first, but then I realized that I had just passed out with my head at the wrong end of the bed.

I hopped out of the bunk and headed into the bathroom – pausing when I realized I was the only one in the room. Both Brittany’s and Paris’ bunks were empty.  I wracked my brain for the previous night’s timeline and tried to pin down exactly where my roommates were. The last time one of my roommates didn’t come home she faked her death and then turned up a week later and tried to kill us. No one wanted that to happen again.

I remembered that we had left Brittany at the sorority house. That didn’t seem like a big deal since she had warned us prior to the party that she might spend the night there if her pledge mistress demanded it of her pledge class. I had been so tipsy by that point I hadn’t been able to think of anything biting to say about her pledge mistress – at least I don’t think.

Paris was another story, though. I remembered that she had been with us when we walked back to the dorms. I don’t especially remember her being in the elevator when Michelle, Laura and I had ascended to our floor, though. Huh. Had she stayed the night with Mark? That would be an interesting conversation.

I pushed my concerns for Paris off long enough to shower and get cleaned up. When I walked back out in the common room after getting dressed I found Paris sitting on the couch smoking a cigarette and watching the television curiously. She looked as rough as I had felt an hour before.

“Where have you been?”

Paris didn’t answer immediately. Instead, she took another drag on her cigarette and glanced around the room blankly – like she’d just realized she and I were sharing the same space. She pointed to the television dubiously. “Did you see that some girl was almost abducted from outside the sorority party last night?”

“No,” I said in surprise and turned to the television. I watched the broadcast for a while – including an interview with a breathy girl that recounted a stranger stalking her in the dark and her narrow escape. When the anchor switched to another story, I glanced back at Paris. “Maybe she imagined it?”

“On this campus?”

“Good point.”

“She left about the same time we did,” Paris reminded me.

“That doesn’t necessarily mean anything,” I said. It was quite a coincidence, though. I turned back to Paris. I had bigger concerns than a girl that may or may not have been stalked in the dark right now. “When did you start smoking?”

“I just needed it,” Paris said haltingly.

“Is this an after sex cigarette?” I figured I might as well just go for broke.

Paris nodded. “Yup.”

“How was it?”

“I don’t remember a lot of it,” Paris said honestly.

“Well, I’m sure you’ll do it again. Maybe it’s a good thing,” I added.

“What? Not remembering it?” Paris furrowed her brow. She was a little slow this morning.

“Yeah. The first time always sucks. This way, you won’t have to remember it. You can just jump to the second time.”

“I guess,” Paris said dubiously.

“There’s not going to be a next time?” I had trouble believing that. Paris didn’t exactly seem like a one night stand kind of girl.

“I’m sure there will,” Paris said. “I just don’t know how soon.”

“Ah,” I said knowingly. “You have buyer’s remorse.”

“Meaning?” Paris stubbed her cigarette out in the cup she had been holding.

“Meaning that you just broke up with a guy you had been dating for a long time and you immediately went out and slept with another guy the next night and you think it was too soon.”

“You don’t?”

“I didn’t understand why you were dating Mike anyway.”

“That doesn’t mean I should have immediately slept with Mark. I blame the alcohol.”

I always blamed the alcohol when I did something stupid. “It will be fine,” I waved off her concerns dismissively. “It’s not like Mike will find out.”

“That’s true,” Paris sighed.

“You can slow things down,” I reminded her. “It’s not like Mark is going to start pressuring you for constant sex. It’s not really in his nature.”

“Yeah,” Paris agreed, her face reflecting a sudden lightness. “It just feels a little slutty.”

“It’s fine.” It’s not like I cared. Even though he was a monster hunter, I liked Mark a great deal more than I had liked Mike. Come on, there’s got to be something wrong with a guy that gives himself the nickname Boots.

“Brittany won’t think it’s fine,” Paris said bitterly.

“So, don’t tell her.” That seemed like a simple solution to me.

“You don’t think she’ll find out? She and Mark went to high school together.”

“So? It’s not like Mark gossips with her a lot.”

“I know, but . . .”

“But what? I can’t believe you’re getting all worked up about this. It’s not a big deal. I won’t tell anyone. Mark won’t tell anyone. What’s to worry about here?”

Paris shrugged noncommittally and got to her feet. “I guess you’re right. I’m going to shower.”

She started moving towards the bathroom. “Oh,” she turned back. “Mark and Zach are coming up here for a movie night with us tonight. I figured we’d watch some
Star Wars
movies. Zach said you made fun of him for never seeing them.”

“What? You think you need a chaperone?” I teased. “And that is weird. He’s a guy. What guy over the age of eight has never seen a
Star Wars
movie?”

Paris smirked. “Maybe.”

“It’s fine,” I said. “It’s movie night. What could possibly happen?”

Ah, famous last words.



Paris takes her movie nights pretty seriously, let me tell you. She even straightened her hair and put on perfume.

Brittany had returned to the dorm in mid-afternoon. If she’d been mad about us leaving her, she didn’t say anything. Maybe she didn’t even notice. She’d been drunk enough that I planned on lying and saying she told us to go if the topic came up. Thankfully, though, it didn’t.

When Paris told Brittany we were having a movie night she was excited. “Let’s watch
Twilight
.”

“We’re watching
Star Wars
,” I challenged her.

“
Twilight
is better.”

“That is blasphemy.”

“I don’t know what you mean by that,” Brittany said blankly. “
Star Wars
is old.
Twilight
is current. I mean the actors in
Twilight
are so much hotter.”

“Are you saying Han Solo isn’t hot?”

“I’m saying he’s not as hot as Edward Cullen.”

“My shoes are hotter than Edward Cullen,” I shuddered.

“I think millions of teenage girls would disagree,” Brittany said.

“Millions of teenage girls think Miley Cyrus is a legitimate recording artist, too.”

Brittany looked confused. “She is.”

I can’t even talk to her sometimes. Instead, I turned to Paris. “Would you mind if I invited Laura and Michelle down for movie night?”

Paris considered the question. “No, I think that’s a good idea. The more the merrier.”

I smirked at her. She really didn’t want to give Mark the impression that they were going to have sex tonight.

Mark and Zach arrived a few minutes before 7 p.m. and Michelle and Laura weren’t far behind. For her part, Brittany begged off movie night and instead went down to the study room at the end of the hall. I was a little relieved. If I had to listen to her lamenting
Twilight
while Luke and Han were saving the free world from the Sith I would have probably wrestled her down and choked her to death.

It took a few minutes for everyone to work out seating arrangements. I wasn’t surprised when Paris settled next to me on the floor instead of on the couch next to Mark. She was sending a clear message: Not yet.

Movie night was really a gossip session with movies in the background. The conversation was light, thankfully, and the topics were varied and wide. We discussed the new
Star Wars
movies coming out in a few years and then laughed about how annoying the Kardashian clan was. It was just a relief to me to be able to hold a conversation that didn’t revolve around witches, ghosts and werewolves, for a change.

We were well into the second movie of the night when we hit our first snag in the conversation.

“So, why didn’t you guys wait for me last night?” Zach asked, his gazed fixed pointedly on me.

“You seemed more interested in Aric than us,” I replied breezily. “We were ready to go. I don’t think anyone wanted to watch any more chest thumping.”

“That’s the truth,” Paris laughed.

“Who is Aric?” Laura asked. She seemed genuinely interested.

“He’s just a guy I met last semester,” I said evasively.

“He’s really hot,” Michelle giggled.

“He is,” I agreed. “He’s also a massive pain in the ass.”

“So, you don’t like him?” Zach asked. Aric was becoming a recurring conversation topic for us.

Uh-oh.  “I don’t want him to fall in a ditch and die or anything,” I said evasively.

“That’s not really an answer,” Zach prodded.

“I don’t really have an answer,” I said honestly. “I don’t see him that often. I don’t really think about it.”

Paris snorted next to me. I slid her a narrow-eyed glare that I hoped translated the emotion I was feeling: Shut up.

“So, she does like him,” Michelle supplied. That goofy charm I found so endearing last night was quickly dwindling.

“I don’t like him,” I shot back.

“I think you do,” Laura laughed. I didn’t like her all that much right now either.

“I do not.”

“She only likes him when he’s in the room with her,” Paris interjected smoothly. “You know, when she sees him and remembers how hot he is.”

I could see Zach shifting uncomfortably from his position on the couch. I felt a little bad for him – and it wasn’t just because one of his pant legs was rolled up so I could see his socks and the other was at full length so I could only see his toes poking out. Cripes, even his socks didn’t match. One was white and one was blue.

“Well, I’m not sleeping with him,” I shot back pointedly. I had said it in anger and immediately regretted it.

Paris frowned at me. “You said you wouldn’t tell.”

“I didn’t mean to,” I said apologetically, instantly sorry because I had so a big mouth.

“Well, great,” Paris seethed, climbing to her feet. I had a feeling movie night was over.

I glanced over at Mark to see that his cheeks were flooded with color, too, and he was looking anywhere but in Paris’ direction. Great. I’d really done it this time.

Laura looked confused. “What are you talking about?”

“Nothing,” I muttered.

“You’re obviously talking about something,” Laura pressed. I think she knew what I was talking about but was hoping she was wrong.

“Mark and Paris had sex last night,” Zach supplied. “I think it was supposed to be a secret, but Zoe let the cat out of the bag.”

I suddenly wanted to rip his uneven hair right off his head. Granted, there was no way he could possibly know about Laura’s crush on Mark, but I was still furious with him.

Laura got to her feet shakily and faced off against Paris. “You just broke up with Mike.”

“So?” Paris was furious.

“So you can’t just sleep with someone when you’ve just broken us with someone else.”

“Obviously you can,” Paris shot back.

“That’s just . . . so wrong.”

“Thanks for your judgment,” Paris spat out.

“It’s not judgment,” Laura said. “It’s just common sense.”

Oh crap.

“In ancient Greece women were expected to remarry as soon as possible after a spouse died,” Zach interjected. I think he was trying to help – but it was a weird statement in the middle of a brewing verbal smack down.

“Why do you even care, Laura?” Paris eyed her speculatively.

“I don’t,” Laura lied. “I just think this whole thing is ridiculous.” She swung on me. “You don’t think this is okay, do you?”

“I don’t think it’s any of my business.”

“Which is why she told everyone,” Paris said snottily.

“I didn’t mean to,” I said again. “Besides, I didn’t technically tell everyone. Zach did.”

“Hey, don’t throw me under the bus,” Zach exploded. “This is all your fault because you wouldn’t tell everyone if you have feelings for Aric or not.”

“It’s none of your business,” Paris rounded on Zach. “She just met you. It’s not like you own her.”