Snake Eyes

by Melissa Pearl

  Caity’s blue eyes narrowed at the corners, went large for a second, and then suddenly brightened. She stood on her tiptoes, pressing her lips against mine before letting out a cheerful laugh.

  “I need to stop worrying so much about letting you guys down. I think that’s what’s making me feel so unsettled.”

  “You do worry too much about that.”

  She drew in a breath. “I’ve made the right decision and I need to stick with it for a little while. If I change my mind next week or three months down the track, that’s still cool, right?”

  “Right.”

  She grinned. “So I just need to let go and not be so afraid of hurting everyone’s feelings. This is right for me.”

  “And you’re happy?”

  “Yeah.” She nodded. “Well, more peaceful, if that makes sense.”

  I nodded.

  Her smile seemed strained but then she chuckled again, erasing my concerns.

  “And Piper will forgive me.”

  “She’ll probably make you sweat a little first.” I winked.

  “And you’re not mad with me?”

  My head tipped to the side. “Of course I’m not mad with you.” I squeezed her waist. “It’s more important to me that you’re happy. I just hope you get a decent roommate.”

  I nearly said, “Or maybe I don’t, because then you’ll want to move in sooner,” but I bit my tongue. She didn’t need that kind of pressure.

  Caity’s chuckle faltered. It had a nervous quality that I wanted to understand. Although she said she felt peaceful about her decision, she wasn’t really acting like it.

  Caity cleared her throat and smiled. “There were suitcases on the bed when I went back to change.”

  “What was she like?”

  “I haven’t met her yet, but you know what...” Caity licked her lower lip. “I’m gonna make a real effort this year. She’s probably a freshman and feels nervous. I want to take her under my wing and make her feel welcome, you know?”

  Her eyes were locked on the horizon over my shoulder as she spoke, her head bobbing robotically. I brushed her cheek with my lips.

  “That sounds like you, Caity. Always looking out for those in need.”

  “Yeah.” The word came out in a breathy laugh and then she swallowed, her eyes still gazing past me. I thought I saw a wave of sadness washing over her again, but I didn’t have a chance to look properly because she pulled me tight against her and wouldn’t let go.

  Part of me wanted to pull back and figure out what was going on, but another part of me—the louder part—told me to stay quiet.

  So I kept my concerns to myself and held her, soaking in the feel of her perfect body clinging to mine.

  13

  Caitlyn

  “See you tomorrow.” I grinned again and planted a farewell kiss on Eric’s lips.

  I stood there waving as he pulled away, and waited until his jeep was out of sight before finally letting my shoulders droop. Usually, spending time with Eric relaxed and rejuvenated me, but the afternoon had been draining. I pulled my sundress straight and headed up the path to my dorm.

  Wearing my game face around my boyfriend was the last thing I wanted to do. I’d never had to be anything but me around him and it was hard to keep my emotions in check. Every time I caught him trying to analyze my mood, I snapped into a brighter, fake version of myself. I tried to be subtle about it and I think I did an okay job, but talk about feeling like a schizo.

  Eric would tire of me quickly if I didn’t get myself together around him. He’d probe in that sweet, gentle way of his until I’d let everything spill...and then Kaplan would be super-pissed and I didn’t know if I was brave enough to face that.

  Besides, letting my protective boyfriend in could jeopardize this investigation and I couldn’t do that to the girls.

  They needed me to succeed and if Eric knew what I was up to, he’d do everything in his power to persuade me against it. And when it came to persuading me, Eric was a freaking Einstein.

  I mean, yes I could probably argue my case and eventually win him around in my soft, gentle way, but Kaplan would have a hissy fit.

  I placed my hand on the glass door entrance and sighed.

  Was that so bad?

  I closed my eyes.

  Yes, that was so bad.

  I didn’t think I had it in me to fight Eric on one side and Kaplan on the other.

  “Just think about the girls,” I murmured. “What do they need you to do?”

  They needed me to shut my trap and get on with finding their captor. If Kaplan’s hunch was right, which I got the impression it always was, then I had to stay the course.

  Eric could live without the truth for a little while and then when it was over and the girls were safely back in their homes, I could tell him everything. Yes, he’d be annoyed with me, but after his rant, he’d calm down and let me explain...and then he’d forgive me.

  Oh, man, I hoped he would.

  He loved my compassion, my inability to turn my back on those in need, but he hated it when I put myself in danger. I’d just have to be extra careful not to do that.

  I sighed. This was going to be harder than I thought.

  Plodding up the stairs, I reminded myself of the girls and their plight. They would have to stay my central focus or I wouldn’t make it through this.

  I reached the top of the stairs and turned for my dorm room. The door was ajar and I peeked my head in with a smile.

  Quella was standing over her suitcases. They were flung open, clothes spilling out of them and over her shoulder.

  “Hi, you must be Quella.” I slipped into the room, pasting on a sunny smile and instantly missing Piper.

  Thankfully I’d had lots of practice with forced enthusiasm throughout the afternoon, so it was easy enough to hide my disappointment at being in this position.

  I’d be a freaking smile expert when this was over, I could feel it.

  Quella’s head snapped around, her dark brown eyes gauging me. Her head tipped to the side like a sparrow, assessing her surroundings.

  “Hi.” She gave me a wave, her long, skinny fingers wiggling in the air.

  “I’m Caitlyn, but you can call me Caity.” I stuck out my hand and she hesitantly grasped it. It was like shaking hands with a limp fish. I slipped my hand into my back pocket and bobbed my head. “So, welcome to UCLA.”

  “Gracias.” She smiled and shook her head. “I mean thank you.”

  Her Spanish accent was relatively thick. It was obviously her first language.

  She tucked a lock of straight, brown hair behind her ear and began playing with the long strands, running her fingers over the ends.

  I pulled her mask away to see how nervous she really was and had to press my lips together to fight my surprise.

  Well, wasn’t that interesting?

  The coy, little rich girl was anything but. I could see the spark in her eye. There was a wildness to her that was desperate to break free. She was just weighing me up, seeing if I was the girl who could make her college fantasies come true. She was ready to let loose, party, experience every indecent thing college had to offer her.

  I could see her hunger for it.

  This sheltered home-schooler was ready to unleash, and with no Daddy around to stop her, she was going to do exactly that.

  “So, um, can I help you unpack?”

  “Oh, no, that’s okay. I’m trying to decide where I can fit all my clothes. It may take some time.” She was not impressed with the closet space. Lucky for her I wasn’t a shopaholic like Piper. There would have been major closet wars if those two roomed together.

  I bit back my grin as I imagined the scene.

  “I don’t have that much stuff, so feel free to take more of the closet.”

  “Thank you.”

  Okay—so she was totally expecting me to say that. Probably because she was used to getting everything she wanted.

  Putting back Quella’s mask, I did a quick comp
arison.

  She smiled sweetly and pulled out another shirt, draping it over her arm. “Are you sure it’s okay? I do not want to be a bother.”

  “Absolutely. It’s not a problem. I’m here to help you with whatever you need.” I smiled.

  Her mask slipped in time with my broad grin and I could see her disappointment. She probably thought I was going to turn out to be just like her sunny, over-helpful nannies. Someone else to mother her and lap at her feet like she’d had all her life.

  I nibbled my lip. She was never going to open up to me if I was that to her. I had to give her what she wanted in order to break that sweet, innocent shell. I had to become that person she’d trust as a friend and confide in. I had to be her partner in crime.

  Damn it!

  I wanted to step away so bad. Let her find someone else to cause trouble with. College partying was so not my scene, but I had a job to do and if this girl would open up around me then the chances of a little rhetorical faux pas were that much higher.

  Sucking in a breath, I closed my eyes while her back was turned and screamed at myself to man-up and just do it.

  Think of the girls, Caity.

  The breath whooshed out of me and as she turned to face me, I put on a smirk. “You know what, screw unpacking and closet space. We can do that any old time. It’s Saturday night; we should be out having fun. I know this great bar just around the corner. You’ve got a fake ID, right?”

  Her lips parted with a silent gasp before growing into an electric smile. “Not yet.”

  “Why don’t we go and do something about that.” I winked.

  She let out a little squeal as I reached for my phone and did a quick search. I’d overheard two guys chatting in my class the other day about a guy in Rieber Terrace who supplied IDs for the newbies. It cost eighty bucks and he’d do it on the spot if you paid more. I Googled his name and soon found his room and contact details.

  I linked to his Facebook page and sent a message.

  Got a newbie who needs a rush ID. Heard you’re the man for the job. You around now?

  Grabbing my wallet, I flicked out the ID card Stella had given me two years ago—Martha Woodgrove. I cringed, still unsure why I’d kept it for so long. Maybe it was for such a time as this. Snatching my skinny jeans off the end of my bed, I wiggled into them and threw off my sundress, picking out my pink, low-cut tank top. I kept my bikini underneath, not feeling comfortable enough to change my underwear in front of Quella yet.

  I shoved the ID into my back pocket along with a few twenty-dollar bills, and turned to my new roommate who was wiggling into a tight black top that accentuated her breasts. I raised my eyebrows and nodded in approval.

  She did a little shimmy and then covered her mouth, letting out a blushing giggle.

  I grinned. “You’re gonna need some cash; these IDs can be pricey.”

  “No problem. Money is never an issue for me.” Her smile was demure, but I could see the pride behind it.

  Hmmmm, spoiled brat hiding behind a good girl mask.

  I was going to have to play this one carefully.

  My phone dinged.

  In room for the next hour. Come over right now and I’ll set you up. $150 for a rush job.

  “Let’s go.” I slipped the phone back in my pocket and reached for the door.

  Quella snatched up her purse, her smile a mixture of jitters and sheer excitement. She’d never done anything like this before and she was loving it.

  She followed close behind me, falling in step once we got outside.

  “When I missed out on Rush, I was so worried I’d be lumped with some geeky roommate who wanted absolute silence so they could study all the time. It’s such a relief to meet you, Caity.”

  “Yeah, you too.” I was desperately trying to think of my high school bestie, Stella, and how she used to behave. She was a party-chick to the max and always played it cool and casual with me.

  She was always going on about being hard to get.

  Be mysterious and hard to get, Caity. It entices people.

  Well, it damn well better work, because what I was doing went against every instinct in my body. My only comfort was that Quella seemed to be a party virgin. Her sheltered upbringing would do me a world of favors, because hopefully she wouldn’t notice what a total novice I was.

  My mind raced with all the things I needed to consider...

  How to get her to open up, yet also keep her out of trouble.

  How to keep this new act hidden from my boyfriend.

  How to make this work while still keeping everyone around me blissfully unaware of what I was up to.

  I rubbed my temple, quickly dropping my hand and shaking it out when Quella looked at me. She didn’t need to know my head was pounding. I was party-girl Caity right then and I needed to act like it.

  I threw on a smile as we rounded the corner and headed into Rieber Terrace, silently crossing my fingers that I’d be able to claw my way out of the huge hole I was digging myself into.

  14

  Caitlyn

  The bar was noisy and chaotic. We got in without a sweat. The IDs both withstood the test and now, we sat at a little round table drinking beers. Quella offered to buy the first round. I ran my thumb up the cold bottle, carefully sipping at it and hating the flavor. It was an effort not to grimace with each swig. I’d tasted beer before, but never really loved it. If I ever wanted to get rip-roaring drunk, my best bet would be shots—quick and fast.

  Quella gulped down another mouthful of Corona, trying to hide her grimace. She obviously wasn’t used to it either. I’d kept her mask off all evening so I guessed all her expressions were exaggerated to me. She wanted me to think she was cool. The idea of coming across as anything other than sophisticated was humiliating to her. I narrowed my eyes a little, wondering how I could play on that.

  I looked across the bar, scanning faces and trying to think how I could get Quella talking with information that would actually help the case. It was pretty damn hard with the pulsing music thrumming through my head, not exactly conducive to intimate conversation, but I highly doubted she’d want to go hang out at the beach.

  My eyes traveled back to my drinking buddy, bobbing in her seat like an excited school kid as she sipped at her beer. I noticed some guys leaning against the bar and checking us out. Quella blushed, her lips quirking with what she thought was a flirty smile. That was the last thing I needed.

  Leaning forward, I touched her arm.

  “Don’t be so obvious about it.” I flicked my head at the guys. “Play it cool. Mysterious and hard to get is way sexier.”

  Her face blanched. Swiveling away from the guys, she rested her beer on the table. “So, how would you play it then?”

  Man! This was so not me.

  I didn’t know.

  Conjuring up every image I could remember about Stella, I sat back in my chair and swung one leg over the other. “Pretend you haven’t even noticed them or you have, but they’re really not worth your time.”

  “Will that make them want me more?”

  “Oh yeah.” I took a swig of my beer and licked the gloss off my lips, feeling like a total fraud. Like I honestly knew how to pick up guys! It was a freaking miracle I ever scored Eric! But he wasn’t like these guys. He didn’t lurk around bars trying to pick up chicks; he was all about the genuine article.

  I swallowed, guilt singeing me.

  “Once we’re done here, we could maybe hit the dance floor.” She wiggled her eyebrows. “That would really make them hungry, don’t you think?”

  I nodded and shrugged, trying to play it cool while screaming in my head, “I don’t want to make those douchebags hungry!”

  “Let’s finish our drinks first.” I tipped my bottle at her.

  Quella nodded enthusiastically and started gulping hers back.

  I raised my eyebrows and shook my head. “You don’t drink much, do you?”

  She pulled the bottle away from her lips, her expression aski
ng me if once again she’d let her complete naivety show through.

  I snickered. “Stop trying so hard. Play it cool. You don’t want to get completely wasted while the night is still young. Stretch it out, have some fun.” Okay, Stella would so never say that, but I had certain lines I wasn’t willing to cross. I’d be useless to everyone drunk. Although, it would probably work in my favor to get Quella a little tipsy.

  I raised my beer again and took a sip. I subtly spat my mouthful back into the bottle. Super gross, but it was starting to make me queasy and I had to keep my head in the game.

  Thankfully, Quella didn’t notice and took another sip, but some of it dribbled down her chin and she scrambled for a napkin. I handed one to her and put on a pitiful look.

  She wiped her mouth and winced. “I guess I am so obvious. I scream small town, don’t I?”

  I wrinkled my nose. “Parents pretty strict, huh?”

  She rolled her eyes. “My father. Yes.”

  Although her tone was scathing, I could see how much she adored the man. She obviously had no idea of his creep factor. I couldn’t help wondering for a split second if Kaplan had it wrong. Was Mendez really behind this?

  “It is a miracle he even let me come here.”

  My insides pinged. Was I about to get some goods on her dad? I took a second to respond, wanting to maintain my casual, slightly disinterested demeanor. “Oh yeah? Where did he want you to go?”

  “Correspondence school.”

  “No shit! That would have sucked.”

  “I’ve been home-schooled my whole life and dreaming of this day for years. I begged to go to a real high school ever since I was thirteen.”

  “Well, high school kind of sucks, so you got the better end of the deal. Believe me.”

  Considering she’d been so sheltered, I was surprised by her confidence. If I’d been in a sheltered, home-school situation all my life, going into a crowded bar and throwing back beers would have been like stress city! Quella was obviously not like me.

  “So, what do you think changed your dad’s mind?”