Schooled

Chapter 3

Three trays of shooters had gone missing from the fridge. Accusations were made. Inquiries ensued.

At one point I thought it would escalate to violence, but I settled the dispute by pointing out that the trays were being held hostage by a circle of Delta Phi's playing truth or dare on our back deck.

I returned them to the fridge.

Less a finder's fee.

The party was in full swing. If the neighbors hadn't been dancing on the dining room table, I would've expected them to call the police.

I was ready to find something a little less exciting to occupy me. Pre-reading for my advanced econ course was sounding pretty good right now.

I picked my way back through the crowd, heading to the stairs, but pulled up halfway there.

The guy occupying one of our armchairs was familiar.

Intimately so.

Perched in Jake's lap was a pretty blond girl trying to devour his head with her mouth.

He didn't seem to be objecting. In fact, his hand was on the back of her head, pulling her closer.

My throat burned.

This is not happening.

Telling myself I shouldn't care didn't seem to make a difference.

I stumbled toward the stairs and raced up them. Jerked the door of my room closed behind me and collapsed on my bed.

Tears rose behind my eyes, but I refused to cry. I hadn't cried since my dad left me and my mom more than ten years ago. I wasn't about to start for some guy who'd cut and run months ago at the first sign of trouble.

Jake wasn't worth it.

I didn't want him back. But seeing him with someone else threw me.

Probably because I had no plans to do the same. This summer Ava and I made a pact: no boyfriends senior year. Guys would interfere with our heads, hearts, and most importantly, our business.

We'd worked too hard to put the pieces in place to lose it all now.

Still, seeing Jake and the blond had sent my body into panic mode even as my head was telling me it would be OK. I tried to talk myself down.

Deep breaths, Lex. In and out.

A knock sounded at my door. It was followed by a deep voice, rough and tinged with concern.

"Lex? It's Dylan. Is everything OK?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." My voice almost matched my words.

I'm not the kind of girl who needs, or likes, to be rescued. And as far as would-be saviors went, Dylan Cameron would not be my choice.

I was about to ask him to leave when the door handle turned. His lean face appeared, silhouetted by the light in the hallway.

Dylan stepped inside, pushing the door partly closed behind him. Only a couple inches of bright hallway shone into the semi-darkness of my room.

He leaned his frame against the wall and crossed his arms over his chest.

"I saw you take off up the stairs like something was on fire. What happened?"

"Nothing. Really, Dylan, it's fine."

He didn't move, just waited me out. From ten feet away, those brown eyes probed mine as if Dylan was reading everything I was feeling but didn't want to voice.