PREYS AT PLAY

11 │TESTING THEORY

VERENA

"Dammit, Verena." My hands come down the steering wheel with a bang. Of all places, I drove here. Ignoring the arguing voice of the purer side of my conscience, which is advocating that I get back into the car and drive off, I inch closer to the front of the building. I stare blankly at the door, creating just enough space for my mind to change its course. When I'm fully convinced that this is a stupid idea, I make a turn and take two steps down the porch.

Well, shit.

My eyes land on the cop car that stops right behind Charlie. Jensen walks my way with a confused look stuck to his face whilst I'm stuck to the pavement underneath me. The closer he gets to me, the more my body feels like it's going to drown on the dry land that I'm standing on.

"Do what do I owe this visit, brains?" His voice sounds tired- he looks tired.

The lines on his forehead become visible when concern covers his face. "Did something happen? Are you hurt?" He reaches for my face.

I shake my head, "No, I'm alright." I swat his hand away. Jensen shouldn't touch me, not again.

"Is it Nick?" He steps in front of me, blocking my way to the car.

Yes, he's sleeping with Paige.

"Yeah," My eyes find my shoes, because if I were to look at him any longer my thoughts could slip past my lips. It isn't my place to tell him that his best friend and girlfriend are sleeping together. I remain in the same spot when he walks halfway around me and then through the door.

"Are you coming up?"

I tug at my dry throat when I gulp. Suddenly, the clear voice in my head is quiet and my better judgment is gone. I follow Jensen as he leads me to his apartment. I stay in the door opening whilst he turns on the lights, revealing the brown-reddish color of the brick walls on the inside of his space. A single black leather chair is stationed in front of me, facing the TV. A dark-wooden coffee table with a stack of magazines underneath, is in between the two.

I never picked out Jensen to be this cool and collected or at least, that's the ambiance flowing in his space. While I didn't have the opportunity to play out my expectations for the way his apartment could look, I was half prepared to see him living in the conditions that I usually find him in with my brother; a few beer bottles and soda cans all around, cold leftovers and video games playing.

Or that could just all be Nick's influence.

"Are you going to stand there all night?"

My eyes shift to Jensen, who's standing near the fridge. The dimly illuminated area causes some parts of his frame to appear darkened.

The sound of a soda-can popping echoes throughout the room. And when straightens himself and throws his head back to take in the liquid, the light falls onto his face, down his torso and upper limbs, highlighting the veins in his forearm. The band of his uniform sleeve wraps tightly around his muscles—

"Brains, come in." His tired voice brings me back to earth, and this time I do make it into the apartment. I move towards the couch, opposite from where he's standing. I'm stuck between looking at everything around me and staring at his familiar self.

"Make yourself at home. There's coke in here and," He points at the flyer that's hanging on the door of the fridge, "This place has great pizza. Order us something good. I'm going to hop into the shower and will be right back." His pointing finger directs to where I can only assume his room is.

"Clear," I awkwardly put my thumb up. God, I want to slap myself. When Jensen disappears into the room, I move myself to the kitchen.

Something good in pizza-term to Jensen means pepperoni with extra cheese. That's the usual order when he's over out at our place. I pick up the phone and dial the number, waiting forever for someone to pick up.