Chapter Three

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We spend the remainder of the night laughing and drinking too many appletinis. It becomes easier to push the creepy dude out of my mind after my fourth cocktail. By then, my tongue is green, and the sweet apple-flavored alcohol has pushed away the murderous thoughts. Whatever that was all about at the bar, it's clearly between him and the bartender. They obviously know each other. Which means I must have imagined him in the mirror earlier. This has nothing to do with me.

Probably.

"Another drink?" says Josie. "Or shall we head to Apocalypse to get our"—she jiggles her arms—"dance on?"

"Can't," says Lucas. "Got an early morning Doctor Faustus rehearsal."

"Yeah?" asks Josie. "What counts as early morning for a theater student?"

The corner of Lucas's lip quirks up. "Eleven."

Josie laughs. "That's ridiculous. You're coming to Apocalypse. Rach? It'll be fun!"

"I dunno."

"If fun isn't your thing, babe, you can look at it as a 'help Josie not be single' mission." She waggles her eyebrows. "I called about the bartender job they were advertising. The guy on the phone sounded hot."

"How can someone sound hot?" I ask.

"His voice was all low and smooth and"—her eyes glaze over dreamily— "British."

I laugh. "Well, as fun as watching you flirt with your potential future boss sounds . . ."—I rise to my feet, wobbling slightly—"I actually do have an early morning lecture tomorrow. I'll catch you for lunch?"

Josie frowns. "You sure you're okay, babe? You seem a bit tense."

"I'm fine."

Her slightly unfocused eyes follow my hand as I pull my hair off my right shoulder. Then they widen.

"Oh, shit," she says, staring at my tattoo. "It's the anniversary, isn't it? Your brother. I'm so sorry, Rach. I forgot."

"No, not until next month. I just . . ."

I shake my head, wondering suddenly if the bad feelings of today are related to him. Applying to this internship feels like a step toward the future. A future without him. A future that would be different if he were still here.

"Maybe I have been thinking about him a bit lately."

Josie takes my hand. "He's watching over you, you know?"

She wants to make me feel better, but I've never been into the spiritual stuff—or, at least, not like she is.

I force a smile. "I'm fine. Honest."

As I take a step back, I brush arms with the blonde from earlier, who's eager to finally get a hold of my stool. We all scowl at her as I sling my sports bag over my shoulder.

"Don't get into too much trouble without me," I say with a grin, then I skirt around one of the potted apple trees on the way to the exit. But when I reach the glass door, I pause, feeling eyes burning into my back.

Eve the bartender watches me with a dark expression. When she catches me looking, she goes back to uncapping a row of cider bottles for a team of Trinity Falls College football players.

What's her problem?

A crow caws as I head back to campus.

I make my way up the six flights of tired stairs to my room. This whole dorm block is pretty old—peeling plaster, light bulbs that need replacing, and a lingering smell of damp—but I don't mind because I have a private room. Josie says it was a miracle; I think it's more to do with the fact this block is falling apart, and they don't want to put any more students in a place about to be under heavy construction. Hence the ladder propped up outside earlier.

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