The Hardest Fall
Bending down, I took my phone from my bag and dialed Zoe’s number.
It rang and rang, but there was no answer. She had it on her, I was sure. Sending her a quick text, I didn’t wait for her to get back to me. There was a good chance she had misinterpreted Victoria’s presence and was ignoring any calls and texts coming from me.
I kicked my bag and it slid toward the living room.
“Goddammit!”
Rubbing my palm on my head, I called Jimmy.
He answered on the second ring. “Jimmy here. Talk to me.”
“Jimmy, I know my shift starts in two hours, but I’m not gonna be able to make it tonight. It’s…football stuff.”
“You realize it’s Saturday, right? I need you here, man.”
“I know, and I’m sorry, but it came up pretty last minute. I can’t skip this. I promise I’ll make it up to you. I wasn’t scheduled for tomorrow, but I’ll come to help. I’ll come in midweek too.”
He released a long sigh that blended in with the music in the background. “Fine, fine—but you can’t skip out on me tomorrow.”
“I won’t. I’ll be there. Thank you, Jimmy.”
My next call was to Chris.
“What’s up?”
“Do you have a phone number for the fullback who played our first and second year? You know, the one who got transferred?
“You mean Tony?”
“Yes, that’s the one. Do you have it?”
“Let me check. What’s going on?”
“I need to ask him something.”
“Oh, thanks, that explains a lot. Hold on…okay, I have it.”
“Good. Text it to me.”
“Are you going to tell me what’s going on?”
“Later. Text me.”
I headed out before he could text me the number. If I had taken Zoe’s friend’s number two years ago myself, it would’ve been easier to find out where she’d gone, but I hadn’t. Even if it was a long shot, Tony might have held on to the number of the girl he had dated for almost a year before he transferred, and I was pretty sure that girl would have Kayla’s number. It was my only shot. Sure, I could’ve waited for her to come back to the apartment, but that could take hours, and she’d spend those hours thinking something I didn’t want her to think. It wasn’t a choice I even considered more than a second.
My phone pinged with a new text at the same time I stepped out of the apartment building.
* * *
It was my lucky day. After talking to Tony, I got the phone number of the girl, whose name was apparently Erica. Then I called Erica and asked for Kayla’s number.
The voice on the other end of the line answered timidly. “Hello?”
“Kayla?” I asked, not sure if it was the right number or not.
“Umm, yes? Who is this?”
“It’s Dylan, Zoe’s…” What the hell was I for her? “Zoe’s friend—her roommate. I’m sorry for bothering you, but I’m trying to find Zoe and she isn’t answering my calls. Do you have any idea where she is?”
“Give me a sec,” she whispered.
There was some rustling, a door opening and closing, and then she was on the line again, her voice stronger than it had been before.
“She texted me a few minutes ago. Why do you want to know where she is? Is something going on?”
“No. I just need to see her.”
I waited through the silence.
“Okay. I don’t know what’s going on, but I hope you won’t make me regret this.”
“Please,” I forced out.
“I’m heading to a party at my boyfriend’s frat house. She texted me to ask if we could meet so I told her I’d meet her there in an hour so. I don’t know where she’ll go if she’s not home.”
“Where is the party?”
Chapter Eighteen
Dylan
When I stepped through the frat house’s open door around ten PM, there were already red Solo cups littering the ground and the air reeked of sweat, beer, and the worst mix of perfumes—the staples of college parties. Just a few steps in and I could already see the closely pressed bodies on the dance floor. I pushed past the few people who were standing around the door, casually chatting by screaming at each other over the music, and started to look around. Skipping the dance floor, I searched every inch of the house, including the upstairs rooms. Zoe was nowhere to be found, and neither was her friend, Kayla.
Hoping maybe they just hadn’t made it there yet, I did another sweep of the first floor then headed for the basement. Thankfully the music wasn’t loud enough to make my ears bleed, but I knew I’d have a headache the next morning.
Frat parties are never a good idea if you’re sober and tired through the whole thing.
Spotting a few teammates on my way down, I had to stop to exchange a few pleasantries. When I spotted Zoe sitting on an ugly green couch in the corner near an ongoing beer pong match, I was able to breathe easier and think again. She was sitting next to Kayla, who had her back to me, and they were talking in what seemed like hushed tones—as hushed as they could get in that ruckus with everyone cheering on the beer pong champions.
It was when I was halfway to them that Zoe finally noticed me and our eyes met across the room. Someone touched my shoulder and tried to stop me from getting to her. I turned to the guy with a scowl on my face and he backed off.
“Sorry, dude. Just wanted to say congrats on a fucking awesome game yesterday.”
“Thanks,” I mumbled and gave him a chin lift, already walking away.
Pushing away the few people standing in my way, I finally reached Zoe.
Without stopping or breaking one of our rare periods of extended eye contact, I leaned down and grabbed her hand in mine, tugging her up with ease.
“Zoe!” Kayla yelped, grabbing her left arm.
“I need to talk to her,” I explained before we started playing a round of tug-of-war and Zoe could cut in. I didn’t want to give her a way of escape.
After Zoe gave her friend a cautious nod, Kayla reluctantly let her go. I took the half-empty red cup from her free hand and put it in the middle of the beer pong table. Ignoring the groaned protests, I took her toward the staircase, which had a small pocket of privacy directly behind it.
I stepped on something sticky that made me pause, but when I saw that it wasn’t puke, I ignored it kept walking. Pulling Zoe next to the wall, where the music was slightly muted, I studied her face. With her big, vulnerable eyes, she looked so unsure. Carefully, she pulled her hand out of mine.
“You left,” I started, and I could hear how gruff my voice sounded.
She looked taken back but still answered. “Yes, because you told me to leave.”
“No. I told her to leave.”
“You were looking right into my eyes when you spoke. It’s okay, Dylan. You’re allowed to have friends over. I shouldn’t have… I hope I didn’t interrupt—”
I towered over her and she leaned back. “Are you being serious right now?”
Even bigger eyes. “What?”
“You hope you didn’t interrupt?”
Her brows drew together in confusion. “Yes?”
“Are you playing with me, Zoe? Because I can’t believe you can be this clueless. You can’t be.”
“I’m not doing anything. You’re angry with me for some reason, and I think I’m just gonna go back to Kay—”