May Kill Me

Twenty-Three

As it turned out, I did know at least one other person at this party. Raul from Ancient Roman History managed to spot me in the crowd; I claimed a tiny piece of land in a living room corner. 

"Happy holidays, Oceane! This is my girlfriend, Beatrice," He gestured with a beer bottle at a dark-skinned girl with flaming-red hair. 

"Happy holidays," I replied with a smile. 

"You're not drinking?" Beatrice eyed the water bottle I'd been sipping from for the past half-hour. 

"I have a headache," I lied, "Trying to stay hydrated."

The real reason for my non-drinking was that I didn't want to repeat what happened when I went out for drinks last time. I didn't want to wake up at a stranger's house again, or worse... 

"Oh, that's too bad..." Beatrice said sympathetically. Her caring tone clashed with her sexy-assassin-for-hire look of black high-heeled boots, leather leggings, and a cropped leather jacket. 

Raul and I chatted for a bit about the final, and our plan for winter break while Beatrice stood off to the side sipping from her bottle of Corona. She didn't interject, and Raul didn't make an effort to include her in the conversation. 

We finally wished each other a nice winter break, and the two of them disappeared into the crowd. 

I wanted to leave soon after. I found it hard to enjoy myself: the apartment was getting even more crammed and louder, and the heat was oppressive - despite all the windows being open, I was finding it hard to breathe. 

What if he was here? The thought shot through my mind like a lightning bolt. Noah, hiding in the crowd, or standing outside, looking up at the windows? 

No! No! 

I bashed the thoughts as hard as I could. You do not want to go down that road! Jonathan and Noah teamed up to scare me and teach me a "lesson" or whatever, but it's over, it's done. I was not going to spiral, go down a rabbit hole, forever afraid of one of them popping out from the shadows like the boogeyman.  

I banished that thought, focusing on getting out before the dull throbbing in my head turned into a full-blown migraine.  

I was fairly certain Travis wouldn't mind if I left before the party wound down. 

Finishing the last of the water, I navigated my way through the crowd to Travis's room. All I wanted was to grab my jacket and get out. 

 The door to his room was slightly ajar, the light streaming out into the hallway. 

Low voices were coming from the inside, engaged in what sounded like an argument. 

"I found out about this party through a Live on Instagram!" The voice sounded familiar, "What the fuck, Travis? Why do I find out you're throwing a party via someone's Live?" 

Jenna! It was definitely her: I recognized her high-pitched nasally voice.  

"I don't know, Jenna, I can't control what people put out on their Instagram," Travis replied. 

He sounded irritated and impatient as if the last thing he wanted to do was to have this conversation. 

Jenna sighed loudly. 

"The Live isn't the point, Travis! The point is that you throw a party and don't invite me! Why is that?" 

She sounded so condescending as if she was talking to a kindergartner who kept messing up despite being told off over and over again. 

I felt bad for Travis, but I also needed to get out of here. Maybe if I could knock, apologize, and explain I needed my coat...

"I told you I needed a break."

"I got that!" Jenna snapped at him, "But when you said break I thought you meant a break from hooking up." 

"No Jenna, I meant a break from hanging out, talking, texting, a break from you."

Great, now I have definitely heard more than I needed. At that moment I should have probably walked away and just waited for them to finish. 

So why didn't I? 

"Is it because of her?" Jenna asked. 

Her voice got surprisingly small. 

"Because of who?"

"That girl, the one with the stupid name: Oceane."

What? 

I flinched away from the door. 

Did I hear that correctly? 

"Jenna, I'm really not in the mood right now..." Travis began, sounding even more exasperated than before. 

"Is there something going on between you two? Because if there is..." 

"Because if there is then what? What are you going to do about it?" His voice suddenly had an edge to it that definitely wasn't there before. 

At that moment he didn't sound like the Travis who dropped me off or called to see how I was doing. And this definitely wasn't the Travis who hugged me a little over an hour ago when I came to the party. 

This man sounded dangerous. 

If I sensed it, I was sure Jenna did as well. 

When she spoke next she sounded defensive, apologetic. 

"It was an accident," She said quietly, so quietly that her voice was barely audible. 

"An accident? How does one roofie someone by accident?" 

Roofie? I was roofied? 

My insides went cold. 

I WAS ROOFIED!

Everything made sense now: why I couldn't remember anything, why I felt so awful the next day. I chucked it up to a hangover, to getting hammered, even though it just didn't feel right. In my gut, I knew something wasn't right. And now I knew why. 

Crazy fucking bitch!

"What if something happened to her? If she injured herself, got assaulted, or died? Do you even understand that night could have ended very differently than it did?" Travis hissed at her. 

"But nothing happened! She's okay..." 

"Yeah, she's okay only because I stepped in when that creep zeroed in on her. I stepped in just in time... I mean, the fact that I even have to explain to you what you did wrong-"

"I love you!" Jenna cried out, cutting him off. 

Silence followed. 

All I could hear was the music blaring from the living room, the clacking of bottles, and people laughing.

The world was oblivious to the drama unfolding only several meters away.  

"Look, Jenna," Travis began slowly, his tone still as harsh as before. 

A phone ring pierced the air, interrupting whatever it was that Travis was about to say. 

It took me a moment to realize that the ringing was coming from my back pocket. 

Shit!

I usually had it on SILENT.  

Freaking out that Jenna and Travis come out to investigate and find me on the other side, I rushed back to the living room, letting the crowd and noise swallow me.