Jake lifted an eyebrow, a slight grin peeking at the corner of his mouth.
I rolled my eyes at him and said to my roommate, “I thought he might have special medicine for my anxiety.”
Jake lifted a hand in frustration and muttered, “Oh my God.”
Erica’s eyes got big again. “He does. He has drugs. I knew it!” She pointed at him again. “You’re the type to have those steroids and shit. Wait, does Susan know? I could use that against her. Does she take steroids, too?”
Jake’s hands spread out, palms upward. “I don’t have steroids. No one has steroids. Jo wanted booze. I had booze, but we left and went to your place instead.”
Erica sucked in her breath. “You brought steroids to our place?”
I started laughing. I couldn’t help it.
Jake shot me a look. “Thanks. This is probably the only thing she’s going to remember from this night.”
“You…” Erica rose from her seat. “You gave steroids to my roommate. Is she on steroids, too?”
“Oh, for God’s sake,” Wanker burst out, standing. He grabbed Erica’s hands and pushed her back down, and then he shot a look at Jake and me. His eyes were beady under his glasses. “You two are not helping. You were supposed to come and help her.”
Jake frowned. “She’s drunk. What else do you want us to do?”
“Five minutes before you arrived, she was planning murder. Said it’d be a double exposé since they just interviewed that killer guy.”
Jake’s frown deepened. “That killer guy? What killer guy?”
Erica grumbled, sliding down in the seat so that her feet were almost in Wanker’s lap, “That hot killer guy. You know who I’m talking about. I am sober enough to admit that I’m drunk enough not to remember his name. That guy.”
“Oh.” Jake nodded. “That guy. I remember.” His tone was sarcastic. His hand lifted in the air, and his fingers spread out. “It all makes perfect sense now.”
Erica glowered at him as she hunched down, and stuck her bottom lip out. “I don’t appreciate your tone. I don’t know what it is right now, but I don’t appreciate it.”
I wanted to hit my forehead. This was my roommate. This was Wanker, who was fine. And this was—I gazed at Jake—my friend and accountability partner. This was my team, whom I’d chosen to hide away with in my new life, and they were arguing over…I had no idea what they were arguing over. For some reason, I was fed up, and my patience was gone.
I started to stand up. I wanted to deliver some lecture, and again, I had no clue what I was going to deliver, but Wanker beat me to it.
He jerked forward in his seat and spread his hands in the air. His movement was dramatic, as was the look of disgust on his face. He looked from Jake to Erica and back again. “You two, shut the fuck up.”
Erica’s bottom lip popped back out in a pout.
Jake rolled his eyes.
“I mean it. The two of you are being horrible to each other. And why?” He indicated me, too.
Jake expelled a breath of air and leaned back.
Erica narrowed her eyes. She mumbled, “Wanker, whasss your poind?”
“Great. The slurring is upon us,” Jake grumbled.
Wanker started to turn on him.
I beat him this time. I hissed at Jake, “Stop it. Susan screwed her over, and she’s only mad at you because you screwed me over, remember?”
That shut him up.
Erica thrust a fist in the air. “Yeah!”
Wanker told her, “Drop that hand right now.”
She did. Her hand landed with a thud on the table, and she seemed mesmerized by Wanker’s take-charge attitude. I had to admit, I was impressed, too.
He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table, and he shoved his glasses up with one savage movement. He pointed at the table. “Now,”—he hit the table with his finger, like Erica had done when we approached—“I have no idea what happened. She still hasn’t explained it to me, but I vote we go home, and we all partake in a rather passionate round of Go Fish.”
“Yeah!” Erica’s fist went back in the air. She lowered it right away. “No, we can’t. Susan’s here. I’m spying on her.”
That got all our attention.
Jake sat upright.
I froze.
Wanker’s glasses slid down his nose, and he left them there.
“Wait.” Jake leaned across the table. “Susan’s here?”
“Yeah.” Erica pointed to the second level. “She came here with that killer guy and some others.”
“Where?” I was close to hyperventilating. Kian was here?
“In a private box up there. That guy was snuck inside through the back. He’s famous. People would go apeshit if they knew he was here.”
“Are you sure he’s here?” I had to make sure.
“I think so. I mean, he might’ve left already.”
If he did, a thought occurred to me, has he texted me?
I felt the outline of my phone in my bag. I wanted to pull it out and double check. Was Kian here? Or did he leave? I had no clue how I felt about either. I just wanted to know if he’d texted me.