Page 31 of False Start

She walks toward the door and puts her hand on the handle. “I’m here, if you ever need to talk.”

I don’t say anything because there really isn’t anything else to say. She leaves, and I flop back down on my bed, my heart aching, and I think about calling Austin. He’d know what to say. He’d make it better, but he’s probably on his date.

I’m all alone in this world.

I decide I can’t stay here and sulk like I want to, so I take a quick shower, put on some cologne and a nice shirt and jeans before walking the short distance from my dorm toward the little houses that line the street just off campus.

It’s barely dark out, but that doesn’t stop the many house parties from going strong already. I make a few stops, finding the free alcohol without any trouble. I even play pool at one of the houses with complete—yet very nice—strangers before stumbling back to my dorm.

I’ve had way too much of way too many types of alcohol, and my body feels a little tingly and numb, but I make it up to my room to let myself in and strip out of my shirt before falling on my bed.

I grab my phone out of my jeans before trying—and failing—to push them off. I still have one foot stuck in them but can’t be bothered to finish the job as I find Austin’s name and call him.

He picks up on the third ring—that’s just great. Three whole rings. If he called me, I’d pick up on the first one. “Vaughn?”

I can hear the concern in his voice, and whatever animosity I was feeling over his three rings to pick up vanishes, and I’m left with a warmer feeling than even the copious amount of alcohol could provide.

“Vaughn? Are you okay? What’s wrong?”

Oh. Right. Words. Words are totally helpful. For some reason, that makes me laugh. But actual words don’t come out.

“Vaughn? Are you drunk?”

“How did you knooooow?” I end up singing the question. Still counts.

“You laugh like that when you’ve had too much to drink.” Of course, he knows that about me. He knows everything about me. “Vaughn, talk to me.”

“I’m fine. Just...” I sigh and look up at the ceiling of my dorm, the room starting to spin a little. “Vanessa broke up with me.”

I hear him curse, and I close my eyes. “What happened?”

“She’s gone. Met a math genius and left my dumb ass. She’s gone. You’re gone. I’m aaaallll alone.” Am I singing again? Maybe. Who cares?

“I’m not gone,” I hear him say, but my eyes stay closed. If I keep them closed with his voice in my ear like this, it’s almost like he’s here.

Soon, I just drift off.

Wrapped up in my best friend’s arms where nothing can hurt me.

16

AUSTIN

“Vaughn, answer the door.” I pound on the door again, my heart racing. I’ve seen him drunk a few times, but he’s never sounded like that. He was distraught. Vanessa broke up with him?

What the hell is going on?

I’m ready to go down to the lobby and demand a key when the door opens. A very rumpled, disoriented Vaughn finally answers the door, with one leg in his jeans and one out, shirtless, and his hair a mess.

“Are you okay?”

“Are you really here?” He puts a hand to his head, looking wobbly on his feet.

I walk into the room, letting the door close behind me. “Yes. Of course I’m here. You didn’t sound so good on the phone.”

He chuckles, but it’s half-hearted as he kicks off his jeans and barely makes it to the bed before face-planting. His black boxer briefs hug his ass, but I quickly look away as I sit down next to his head.

“Vaughn, talk to me. What happened with Vanessa?”

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