Romantically Entangled

Chapter 25

Nicki

It's not my dad. It's Jason Reed.

"Hey," I call out as he walks toward me, "you came."

I'd impulsively invited Jason to the party just before I left the newsroom on Friday. But I didn't expect him to show up.

Things have been better between us lately. He seems to be happy with my work at the paper. And I've wanted to impress him, so he'll give me better assignments.

Plus, I've been eager to see the profile I did of Provost Sorenson on the front page.

Jason's been saying it would be published any day now.

But so far, that hasn't happened.

"You weren't kidding about it being a big party," he replies, taking in all the people on the porch and the booming music coming from inside. "I can't believe you actually live here."

He's not wearing a costume. Instead, he's dressed in his usual preppy style: monogrammed Oxford shirt and chinos, with an expensive-looking leather jacket and some black loafers added to the mix.

I study him, noticing the tense expression on his face, the way he's clutching his phone.

"So...look, I can't stay after all," he says. "Everything is blowing up on me. There was a stabbing on campus a couple of hours ago and—"

"Oh no!" I interject.

"...we need to redo tomorrow's front page."

I turn toward the house "No problem," I say. "Just let me get my stuff."

Campus crime is not my beat, but I assume he needs me to help get the issue redone and sent to printing as fast as possible.

Then I remember TT.

Damn. She came here to hang out with me. I feel bad leaving her.

But she'll be okay for a few hours. And we can catch up before she leaves tomorrow.

It takes me a second to realize Jason's shaking his head. "No, that's okay," he says.

"We've got it covered."

He stares at the ground a moment before meeting my eye.

"I also wanted to let you know," he goes on, "that the Sorenson profile is not going to be published after all."

My stomach drops at his words. "What?" I hate that my voice is squeaky. "You mean not this week? Or not ever?"

"Not ever. The FAC voted against it."

"But why?" I cringe at my high, childish tone.

Seriously, though, what the fuck? Why would the faculty advisory committee pull my story?

Jason has just opened his mouth to respond when we're interrupted by raucous whooping from the other end of the porch.

Three drunk guys are standing in the porch swing, rocking it back and forth with so much force I'm scared it will collapse and bring the overhanging roof down with it.

Just what I need.

"Hey!" I yell, rushing toward them. "Get off there! Right now!"

I reach the swing and tug on one of the chains holding it up, spilling two of the assholes to the porch.

The other, who has managed to hold on, has the nerve to kick at me.

I grab his foot and twist it, then let go as he jumps off the swing.