Page 19 of The Score

The lights stop flickering. I take that as my cue to bail, because if we’re dealing with a potential power outage, I’d rather be home when it happens instead of on the road. Besides, for all my talk about partying, I’m really not feeling the bar tonight.

“Hey, I’m heading out.” I clap a hand over my roommate’s shoulder. “See you back at home.” I don’t miss the disappointed pouts on the girls’ faces, but I’m confident they’ll forget all about me once Hunter and Tuck turn up the charm.

I exit the bar a minute later and realize Tuck wasn’t kidding. In the ten seconds it takes me to get to my car, I’m soaked to the bone, dripping water all over the Beemer’s leather interior. The bolts of lightning streaking across the sky are so bright, they make the act of flicking on my headlights almost redundant. I could probably just let those blinding white flashes light the way home.

I fish out my phone again.

Me: Weather’s worse than I thought. Keep a flashlight near you in case power goes out.

Oh, for chrissake. I sound like I’m writing a shitty survival guide. Why am I even texting her?

Allie responds with,Thx for the tip, then follows it up with,Seriously, stop worrying about me. I’m reading on the couch. Under a blanket. Snug as a bug in a mug.

Me: In a rug.

Her: ??

Me: Snug as a bug in a RUG. That’s how you say it.

There’s five whole seconds of radio silence, and then my phone rings in my hand. I’m grinning as I answer the call.

“Why would the bug be in a rug?” she demands.

I snort. “Why would it be in a mug?”

“Because that’s a cozy place for it to be! If it’s in a rug, someone might step on it.”

“If it’s in a mug, someone mightdrinkit.”

“Are we writing a bad Dr. Seuss book right now?”

Laughter bubbles in my throat. “Sure fucking sounds like it.”

“Well, either way, I think my phrasing is better.”

I’m momentarily distracted by the rain hammering against the windshield. It’s falling harder now, and a second later, all the lights in the parking lot go out.

I curse softly as darkness surrounds my car. “Shit. Malone’s just lost power,” I tell Allie. “Make sure you stay inside, okay? And don’t go wandering around the halls of Bristol House if the power goes out.”

“What, you think a serial killer is going to sneak into the dorm and hunt me down?” She’s quiet for a beat. “Even if that happened, I’d probably be able to take him.”

I snicker. “Uh-huh. Sure.”

“Hey, I’mfierce,” she insists. “My dad and I took part in a really intensive father-daughter self-defense program when I was fourteen.”

“Father-daughter self-defense? Is that even a thing?”

“No, but we made it one. He traveled a lot when I was growing up, so whenever he was home he would come up with creative ways for us to bond. But since he’s Mr. Macho Man, we were only allowed to do boy things. Like fishing or riding dirt bikes or learning how to beat each other up. Anyway, I’m hanging up now. I want to finish reading this play.” She pauses. “Drive safe.”

“Wait,” I blurt out before she can end the call.

“What is it?”

I stare at the rain that’s sliding down the windshield. Wondering what the hell is wrong with me.

Then I lick my suddenly dry lips and say, “I want to fuck you again.”

I can hear her breath hitch over the extension.

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