Guilty

Juliette

"You..want to get wasted?" Emery asks me throwing my words back at me. 

I nod, "I want to feel my organs shrivel up and die and I want my hangover almost to kill me," I tell her. 

I never thought I'd turn to alcohol to cope with my problems but hey, like father like daughter. 

"Well fuck how bad was that test?" Emery asks me, eyes widening. I shake my head at her, I won't even talk about it. I just want to drink and keep going until I forget about it. 

"Put on your most revealing dress and let's go," Emery says, looking through my closet. She's studying to be a fashion designer so I trust her to pull something perfect from my closet.

"Is that a slip dress?" I question as she hands me a silky red gown with black lace at the hem. Emery shrugs, pulling her dress down. 

"I feel like getting free drinks tonight," She says and I sigh before changing into it. One glance at the mirror and I laugh. If I even consider bending over my whole ass is going to be out. Well, at least my boobs were mostly covered. That's modest.

It's a Saturday night so to say it's packed at the club we choose to head into is an understatement. I and Emery immediately make a beeline for the bar and tag team getting guys to buy us shots before we magically vanish onto the dancefloor. 

Lights stream over the dancefloor in dizzying flashes, I can barely see the people around us. Everyone's faces briefly become apparent when the lights flash on and then we're all plunged into darkness again. 

It's exhilarating. 

After several shots and drinks down I can barely remember my name, let alone that god-awful test. Me and Emery scream in unison when 'Low' blares on the speakers and we rush over to the dancefloor to twirl and throw each other around to the music. 

I swivel my hips and jump around in a dizzying fashion when a cold hand wraps around my forearm, tugging me back. I spin around and almost crash into Zane. 

His white shirt is half open, displaying the hard planes of his chest. I can make out the groves of his stomach through his shirt. I lower my eyes to his black jeans, my eyes glancing at his crotch before I drag my gaze up. It lands on a silver cross he wears on his neck. 

Is the devil wearing Jesus' brand? How hilarious.

I finally meet his gaze and find myself staring at his dilated pupils. His eyes look so dark in this lighting, almost black even when the lights above flash. 

I miss the storms. 

"When you bend over in that dress everyone can see your underwear." He tells me, cooly. 

I smirk despite myself, "No, I'm only flashing the people who were looking in the first place." 

Zane's eyes darken and I can't say I don't revel in it a little bit. 

"Your underwear is red to match the dress, it's eye-catching," he replies curtly. 

"You know what else is eye-catching Zane, that necklace," I say reaching out my hand as my fingers curl around the small little cross. 

Zane keeps his eyes on my face as I inspect it, I think it's made of real silver. Nothing cheap or tacky. I doubt he'd have bought this for himself. 

"Finally converting to a higher power are you?" I ask him, staring at the cross. 

A memory is circling my mind, I just can't push through the haze of alcohol to access it. 

"No, I just bought it today. Wearing to get girls." 

"Nothing else about you screams religious," I remark, finally I manage to grasp at the memory. "Your mother bought this for you, she gave it to you on the first day of school. I remember." I tell him, dropping the small cross. 

He narrows his eyes at me and lets go of my arm, "How could you remember that?" 

"I have an excellent memory, even when shit-faced. It's beautiful." I remark. 

"Are you religious?" He asks me, I giggle briefly given our surroundings. But Emery is flirting with the bartender so there's a small point in entertaining conversation with Zane. I did say I wanted to get drunk and do stupid things. 

"Maybe," I reply. 

"Maybe?" 

"I think something or someone is watching over us, I don't know if they care about humanity but... they're watching." 

"How naive," he says. 

"Not naive, hopeful." 

Zane doesn't say anything, instead tucks some fallen hair behind my ear, "You're very drunk." 

"I failed that criminology test, drinking dulls the pain," I say dryly. Swaying slightly on my feet. 

"You didn't fail," He tells me. 

"I couldn't answer anything," I argue. 

"You haven't failed." He repeats, he sounds so sure of himself for a second I actually believe him.

Emery walks over to us, shooting me a curious glance, "I think I should be taking Juliette home now." 

"Give her some water and painkillers, and a longer fucking dress," Zane says to her before walking away from the both of us. 

"What were you two lovebirds talking about?" Emery asks me as we walk outside and call an Uber. 

"God."  

********************************************************************************

"Well done everyone, it was a hard test." " Our professor calls out, handing out our tests. 

No shit it was a hard test. I sigh to myself, leaning my head on my hands as she walks around giving people's grades out. I'm way too hungover and tired for this and the big fat zero I'm going to see on my paper is going to surely finish me off.

So naturally I damn near almost have a stroke in the middle of the class when I see "98" on my paper in big red ink. That's better than I've ever done on a test in this class. 

I stare at the numbers half expecting them to shift and change into something that makes more sense. I don't understand how this happened. I can't even delude myself into thinking I must have overreacted about how badly I did. I could barely answer five questions on this exam.  

"Zane I don't know what happened here but you better not happen again." I hear our professor whisper behind me, I turn around and look down at Zane's paper. 

He has a 68 on it, which is insane. Criminology was one of Zane's best classes, he never got below a 90. Something about this wasn't right and he couldn't meet my gaze.  

I blink in disbelief as I look back at my paper. My eyes go to where my name is written at the top of the paper and I bite my lip, I always dot the I's in my name with hearts. This isn't my writing at the top of the page.  

I pick the paper up and bring it closer to my eyes, written underneath where my name is scribbled on I can see Zane faintly. 

Did he switch our papers?