Trouble's What You're In

by Danielle Allen

  Even though UFIT has done everything to keep the details under wraps, the information coming into this inbox has been helping to put the pieces together. The drug-fueled frat parties the PROs throw have fueled the assumption that the deceased classmate was high or drunk when she got into the lake. But a toxicology report could take weeks. Is the school waiting for that report before they tell us something?

  But here’s where things get really interesting. Paparazzi has been swarming our campus communities in an attempt to get a statement from Aiden Black. Rumor has it that the son of Hollywood royalty was at the PRO party with his secret lover, Brooklyn Cage. While that’s great campus gossip, paparazzi wouldn’t be here for over a week just because he’s hooking up with a cheerleader. Aiden Black isn’t a sworn member of the PRO brotherhood so is he the chink in the armor of the PROs wall of silence? Or is he the part of the problem? And what does his new love interest have to do with this?

  The cheerleading squad was in attendance and they have also been mysteriously quiet. On Sunday, one week from the day Yates was found, almost all the cheerleaders were at the lake. Numerous people with different vantage points noticed the group of cheerleaders, led by head cheerleader Dakota Flynn, rallying in the rain dressed in full uniforms. But a reliable source knows for a fact that Brooklyn was not one of the cheerleaders in attendance because she was on a date with Aiden (the source wanted me to make sure that I mentioned that he paid and tipped very generously).

  So, we have an administration that is suspiciously quiet about death and arson, yet they sent us fifty-seven emails (I counted) about parking decals since this semester started. We have a cheerleading squad doing rituals in the rain, yet they won’t say what happened at the party. We have Aiden Black’s paparazzi still here hungry for a story that he claims doesn’t exist. And then we have the PROs who hosted the party, owned the boat, invited the guests, and have a history of incidents that UFIT administration keeps ignoring.

  When is this school going to start holding people accountable and keep the rest of us safe?

  If you have any information, please contact the police. If you don’t feel comfortable going to the police, respond to this email and I’ll get your tips to the police.

  Sincerely,

  A Concerned Student Who Is Demanding Answers

  I looked up from my phone and found Jay staring at me.

  “Well, this is bullshit,” I blurted out. “I mean, all the other stuff makes sense to question, but the stuff about me is bullshit.”

  He exhaled. “Maybe it’ll get the administration to look into what actually happened and not just do what’s best for the school and their image.” He stood up and headed to the kitchen. “That’s what should’ve happened from the beginning. Had it been any other organization, they would’ve handled this differently. Hell, had it been the basketball team, they would’ve had a student arrested by now.”

  “No, I agree with that part.” I followed him, staring at the back of his head. “The part about me and Aiden is bullshit.”

  He didn’t say anything as he threw his napkin away and grabbed a bottle of water from the refrigerator.

  When he turned around, I put my hand on his chest. “Nothing happened with Aiden.”

  He shook his head slowly. “Okay.”

  “We kissed at the party. That’s it.”

  “Okay.”

  I blocked his path, keeping him from leaving the kitchen. “Say it. Say what you want to say or ask me what you want to ask me. Don’t just walk off.” I dropped my hand from his chest. “Please.”

  There were a fleet of emotions that passed over his handsome features. “You just kissed him at the party,” he stated with a hint of sarcasm. “That’s it.”

  “Yes.”

  “But he sent you flowers and paid for the food we ate.” He shrugged. “Sounds like a date to me.”

  Fuck.

  I knew how it was going to look. I didn’t want to lie about it, but I knew it was going to sound like bullshit when I said it aloud.

  “I went to Gino’s and Aiden ended up picking up a to-go order, saw me and sat down,” I explained. “When my food came, I asked for a box so I could leave. He paid for it as a peace offering because he was asking for my help. He wanted me to verify his alibi because word got out about him being in attendance. It wasn’t a date! It wasn’t like that at all!”

  His jaw tightened. “Okay.”

  “I swear to God, Jay. It wasn’t like that.”

  “Okay.”

  I sighed, a little irritated that he wouldn’t give me the benefit of the doubt. “I’m trying here. I’m being open and honest and you’re being”—I gestured wildly at him— “whatever this is!”

  He scoffed. “Are you serious?”

  “Yes!” I threw my hands up. “I wanted to talk to you about what happened between us and you’re focused on the wrong thing. I’m trying not to stress out about the police, the rumors, the bullshit. The one thing I can count on here is you and I wanted to talk about that. Why are you not giving me the benefit of the doubt?”

  “What do you want from me?” he asked, clearly frustrated.

  “I want you to talk to me!” I cried, tears burning my eyes.

  Narrowing his eyes, he stepped toward me. “I did! I told you that hopefully the email will get the administration to do something instead of letting you get set up. But that wasn’t good enough for you. You wanted me to know that nothing happened with him and when I commented on that, that wasn’t good enough. So, I asked a question only to find out you keep adding details you forgot to mention. I said okay. But that’s not good enough. So, what do you want from me?” he concluded gruffly.

  “I-I don’t want you to look at me like you don’t trust me,” I stammered, my heart beating faster. “I want things to be like they were—I want my best friend!”

  “So, if you want your best friend, why the hell does it matter if you went on a date with Aiden or if you fucked him in the basement?” He shook his head. “Look, I don’t need this right now. I need to work out.”

  I shifted from one foot to the other as I watched him walk away. I went to the office and sat on the futon and waited. I didn’t know what to say, but his last words got under my skin.

  I know what I want. Don’t I?

  James was my best friend. I didn’t want to lose that. But I would be lying if I denied that there was something between us. Before we had sex, I didn’t get butterflies around him, so would it be reasonable to assume that the butterflies he’d been giving me were because the sex was good?

  Do I like him, or do I just like what he did to my body?

  When he left, we exchanged a cool goodbye and that was it. As soon as the door closed behind him, my eyes watered. I felt defeated. I wanted him to say something, but I didn’t know what exactly. If we talked things through, I would’ve felt better about things. I thought a conversation would help us get to the bottom of whatever was happening between us. I couldn’t put into words what exactly I wanted, but I knew I wanted more.

  The more I thought about it, the more I felt like I was going to cry. Instead of dealing with my feelings and trying to figure out what I felt, I started reading Carter’s work again.

  Again, I fell asleep on the futon.

  Again, I woke up in the middle of the night with a bonnet protecting my hair and covered with a blanket I didn’t pull on myself.

  I pulled it around my shoulders tighter. I felt warm and taken care of. I felt loved. My stomach flipped but fear kept me in place. Tears streamed down my face as I drifted back to sleep.

  …

  Chapter Thirteen

  The dream woke me up with puffy eyes and a heavy heart. I couldn’t breathe, choking on the realizations that came to me in waves. It didn’t make sense, but at the same time it did. It felt right and wrong simultaneously. Everything felt off.

  I pushed myself up into a seated position and let my head fall into my hands. I hated not talking to Jay. I hated that Ca
rter was gone. I hated that my brain felt so overwhelmed and my emotions felt so chaotic.

  My head hurt.

  My heart hurt.

  My back hurt.

  Sleeping on the futon was a minor step up from sleeping on the floor. I needed Jay and I to get back on good terms so I could return to his bed. Not only was it comfortable, I missed sleeping next to him. I rubbed my lower back as I exited the office. Before brushing my teeth, before taking a shower, before I started my day, I needed to talk to Jay. I needed to get everything off my chest.

  Maybe after we talk it out, we can carve out a new normal. Maybe we can—

  “I’ll see you later,” Jay called out from behind me.

  I spun around as he opened the front door. “Jay!”

  He stopped, but he didn’t turn around. “What’s up?”

  I lost my nerve and tugged at the bottom of my tank top. “Have a good day.”

  “You, too.”

  When he closed the door, I burst into tears.

  After a long hot bath, I felt better. It was for the best that I didn’t talk to him before he left. I was fresh off a dream that spun me out. With time to think, I knew I needed to do what I’d been doing for a while—swallowing my feelings and focusing on what I could control. But my world was in disarray and I felt lost.

  I wiped my eyes, rolled my shoulders back, and went to class.

  It’s going to be a long day.

  My first class flew by. Everyone was so focused on the exam overview and preparation the adjunct professor launched into the minute class started, I forgot about everything else. It wasn’t until my stomach growled that I realized that I hadn’t eaten all day. I didn’t have time to grab anything between classes, but I wished I had. My hunger was the only thing on my mind as I walked into my last class of the day.

  And then boom—the weight of being called out in that email came hurling back at me.

  All eyes were on me as I took my seat in my Creative Writing class. I heard my name in hushed tones as judging stares penetrated the back of my head. And the whispers only intensified when Aiden walked in and took a seat next to me.

  “Hey,” he greeted me.

  “Hello,” I responded, my eyes trained on the professor.

  “Can we talk?”

  I motioned with my head. “Class is about to start.”

  “After class?”

  The lecture started and I didn’t have to answer. We were supposed to give our feedback about our character sketches, and I’d forgotten all about what I’d written until Aiden handed mine back to me.

  “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “About everything.”

  “What’s your feedback for me?” I asked, trying not to get sucked into the puppy dog eyes he was giving me.

  “Your writing is brilliant.”

  I rolled my eyes. “I need tangible feedback to improve.”

  “I think you’re brilliant and beautiful,” he said earnestly.

  “I’m not going to fail this assignment because you decided not to do the work.” I pointed to my paper. “What do you think? What is your feedback?”

  “I think it’s raw and honest. The character is sympathetic and likable. I’d want to read a story based on her.”

  “Do you think that’s going to be the next assignment? Do you think he’s going to make us write a story based on the characters?”

  He nodded. “It would make sense if he did. Especially since we’re supposed to be portfolio building. If he does, are you going to talk about what happened in yours or are you going to make it up?”

  “I’m going to tell the truth.” I stared him down. “I think the truth is important.”

  Aiden didn’t speak much for the rest of the class. But when it was over, he looked at me as if he’d been thinking about what he was going to say the entire time.

  “Brooklyn, can we talk?” he asked as I gathered my stuff to put in my bag.

  “I thought you said everything you needed to say on Sunday?”

  “No, I didn’t. Because you ran off then, too.”

  I glanced around the room and folded my arms over my chest. “Yes?”

  “I went to the police.”

  My eyes widened. “When? What did they say? What happened?”

  “Can we go somewhere private and talk?”

  “Yeah.”

  We silently walked to the parking lot. When we approached a sleek two-seater sports car, he slowed down. “This is me.” He opened the passenger door.

  “I have my own vehicle.”

  “Please.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “Not far.” He held up his hands. “I swear I’ll have you back in no time. I just don’t want anyone overhearing our conversation.”

  I sighed and climbed in. Part of me got in the car because I wanted to know what happened with the police. Another part of me got in because I was curious about what that kind of car could do. I put on my seatbelt.

  “Are you hungry?” he asked.

  “I’m not going to a restaurant with you,” I responded with a shake of my head. “That’ll just end up in the next email exposé.”

  He started the car and let out a short, humorless laugh. “Or in some sort of tabloid.”

  As I studied his profile, I uncrossed my arms. “That must be hard.”

  He pulled out of the parking spot and headed toward the main road. “I’m grateful for the life I’ve been afforded,” he responded through clenched teeth.

  “That didn’t sound rehearsed at all.”

  He exhaled audibly and glanced at me. “Don’t get me wrong, there are perks to having the parents that I have. The money, the opportunities, the lifestyle. I’m grateful for everything they’ve ever done for me. But the downside is stuff like this.” He paused. “They’ve always refused to let me live my life in peace.”

  “Your parents?”

  “No. The press, society, Hollywood. I don’t know. Everybody,” he answered.

  We were both quiet. I thought about how it felt when everyone was staring in class, watching my every move. “I can’t even imagine living my entire life under a microscope like that.”

  “It’s fucking exhausting.” He stopped at a stop sign and looked at me. “Do you want to grab a burger and a shake from a drive-thru?”

  My mouth fell open and I touched my belly. “Did you hear that?”

  “Yeah.” A ghost of a smile pulled at his lips. “We’ll grab something quick in the drive-thru so I can talk to you. I just don’t want to talk on campus.”

  “Okay,” I agreed. “But start talking.”

  He took a right, heading to the fifties-style diner close to campus.

  “My lawyer got in yesterday, so I went to the police station with him. I told them everything. I told them that neither of us were drinking so there were no lapses in time. We were in the basement”—he peeked over at me— “getting to know each other better.”

  “Is that how you phrased it?”

  “Yeah.”

  I blinked. “That could mean anything.”

  “I guess so…” He kind of shrugged. “It was me, my lawyer, and a detective. I probably could’ve just told them we talked and kissed, but I didn’t want it to seem like a party hookup.”

  There was something sweet about his explanation. But I didn’t want to linger too long on that. “What happened after that?”

  “I told them how we heard yelling and screaming. I warned you about how rowdy they could get when they were partying. I left you down in the basement when I went upstairs.” He pulled up to the drive-thru menu. “A number one with a chocolate shake?” he guessed.

  “Strawberry.”

  He looked impressed. “Nice.”

  Once the voice crackled through the speaker, he placed our order. We sat in silence as we approached the window. I didn’t want to run the risk of any of the workers seeing me, so I turned my back to the drive-thru window. I stared out into the distance until he drove off.

 
Pulling into a spot in the back of the parking lot, Aiden handed me my bag. “Here you go.”

  “Thank you,” I said over the rumble in my stomach. I grabbed a fry and stuffed it in my mouth. “Mm.”

  “I knew you were hungry.”

  The sounds of us biting, chewing, and drinking filled his sports car for a solid five minutes. When I was satiated enough to not have my stomach angry at me anymore, I took a gulp of my milkshake and then turned to him.

  “What happened when you went upstairs?” I wondered, realizing I never knew what was actually happening in the house.

  He swallowed the last bite of his burger. “It was crazy. There were people running upstairs, people running downstairs, people running out the front door. Everyone was yelling, talking crazy. I asked what was going on and Liam told me about the bathroom fires. I guess they put sheets and random stuff in the bathtubs and set it on fire. But that was a distraction to grab what they really wanted.”

  “The boat keys.”

  He lifted his eyebrows. “No, the notebook.”

  “What notebook?”

  “Keep it between us because I know they didn’t say shit and I probably wasn’t even supposed to find out about it.”

  “I won’t say anything.”

  “There’s a notebook full of… information. There’s supposed to be names and contact information for local drug dealers, people who write term papers, strippers who do more than strip, bookies… the list goes on.”

  I chomped on my fries before I rattled off questions. “What? This is a small college town. I could see if we were in the city, but couldn’t that all fit on one sheet of paper? Why is there a whole notebook? And don’t drug dealers and strippers usually use fake names anyway?”

  “All of the people in the notebook are students.”

  My jaw dropped. “Oh!”

  “Yeah, that’s just the first few pages. But they have info about themselves in there, too. Mostly related to who they’ve been with and how far they went…STDs, abortions, and then some sort of ranking system of the sex.”