Jourdan Mathews has a secret, and she knows she needs to take this one to the grave.
* * *
Her life was never complicated: a college student with a close family, good friends, and a plan for her future as a doctor. Had that night had never happened...
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I don't know how long I stay in the bathroom. It could've been 10 minutes, or it could've easily been an hour. Part of me feels like it must not be too long though because no one comes knocking. All I know is that by the time I'm feeling more stable, I have the sinking realization that I do want to go home now. Maybe I should just leave on my own, I could call Ryder and tell him I'd gone back to the apartment, but not to worry because we could just meet up later.
I was too shaken up by that guy. He was a dickhead and he couldn't have been more wrong about everything he'd said to me, but that didn't change the way it made me feel.
This could be handled though, I would go home, take a hot bath and sleep it off. Tomorrow morning maybe Ryder and I could get breakfast to celebrate his win together, without drunk frat dudes around to ruin the night. I'd been feeling so good recently I couldn't imagine that this sends me into a tailspin now.
I am strong. I am going to be fine.
Then I decide it's time to call it a night, slowly pulling myself off the bath mat I'd been sitting on and standing again. I move to open the door, gasping in surprise when I am met face to face with another girl who'd just been trying to enter.
"Sorry." I offer, moving to the side, thinking I might recognize the skinny, blonde girl in front of me, dressed in a black dress, but then again, every other girl at Boulder had the same look.
"Fucking whore." She spits, pushing past me as I step out of the bathroom and into the hallway.
"What?" I almost laugh, there must be something in the air because people are in rare form tonight.
"You know who I am," she smirks, turning and crossing her arms over her chest. Long, acrylic nails digging into her forearms. "Just like I know who you are."
I narrow my eyes, unsure but then suddenly I realize she's right.
Granted, I hadn't seen Penelope Braddish in nearly three years, at least not up close anyways. But here she was, the same pinched expression on her face that she'd been wearing the night that she realized Ryder was after the two of us right in front of one another. An expression that told me she was jealous and obviously knew he's no longer on the market.
"Oh, Penelope." I nod slowly, wondering if she'd followed me up here.
"That's right," she purses her lips. "The girl who Ryder's been with for the past three years, that is, until you came along and ruined everything."
"You two weren't together." I state plainly and she glares. She could try to tell me different, but I knew the truth. Ryder wouldn't lie about something like that, he might have been an incurable playboy, but he was always clear about that. No relationships, period—that is, until we started to discover something new with one another.
"Fine, hooking up, hanging out, whatever you want to call it, but still," she hisses, stepping closer. "You need to back off, he's mine."
"Sorry sweetie," I laugh, unable to help it in my drunk state. "But that's not how this is gonna work."
