Page 122 of Stolen Summer

Where’s your brother?

I texted Cole and then impatiently waited for him to respond. Since I couldn’t stand still, I went to check the cafeteria, and Cole’s response came minutes later.

Cole:

Probably sleeping.

My fingers flew over the keys as I walked mindlessly through campus.

Me:

I’ve already been to the house. He wasn’t there.

I chewed on my lip, watching the three dots for Cole’s response.

Cole:

Did you check his room?

Me:

No. Some guy told me he wasn’t home.

Cole:

At this time of day…trust me, he’s still in bed.

Why would the other guy lie? It didn’t matter. I pushed through the cafeteria doors and doubled back to the frat house., This time, I didn’t knock but walked right in. To the right of the foyer, a sitcom played on the TV. A guy sat on the couch, eating a bowl of cereal in nothing but a pair of basketball shorts. He paid me little attention. After a quick glance at me, his focus went back to the screen.

I stared at the staircase and fished out my phone again. Going door to door wasn’t an option, not if I wanted to avoid numerous awkward situations. I didn’t want to fathom what was going on behind each closed door. I texted Cole again.

Me:

Which room?

His response came quickly.

Cole:

Hook a left at the top of the stairs. Last door down the hall on your right.

Shoving my phone into my back pocket, I took the stairs two at a time. At the top, the hallway split off. Trusting Cole, something I never thought I’d do, I went left and headed to the last set of doors, staring at the one on the right.

A normal person would knock, and I meant to, but my impatience got the best of me, and before I thought about it, I was turning the knob. It was unlocked, and the door swung open.

I blinked, wishing the door would slam in my face, dying to burn the image in front of me from my mind.

Crew wasn’t alone.

The thought never crossed my mind. Had I really believed he’d be sulking in his room waiting for me forever? In the span of seconds, my mind jumped all over the place, attempting to read the situation.

He was fully clothed, and so was the girl who sat on a very rumpled bed, but the clothing didn’t mean jack to my imagination. Crew’s head shifted from the window where he stood, his gaze landing on me. I stared at him, watching the confusion cross his features as if he couldn’t trust his eyes. We had that emotion in common.

“Arie?” he murmured, brows furrowing.

What do I do? Continue standing here like a hurt, speechless idiot? Close the door and pretend I never entered? Demand to speak to him alone? Or just say what I came to say, regardless of who overheard?

My gaze flicked to the girl lingering on his bed, and envy stabbed me. It should be me in his bed. Not some nameless, rich whore. I shouldn’t have judged her without knowing a single thing about the girl, but stumbling into this situation made me irrational.

---