“The apartment belongs to your parents?” I set my suitcase on the bed and open it. Clothes, shoes and notebooks spill out. My tablet and MP3 player are safely tucked in my handbag. Thank God for ebooks, or my luggage would weigh a ton.
“Yeah. The apartment and everything in it. Including me.” She wanders inside the room. “Well, technically, they rent it, but you know… Same principle.”
Right… Her parents sure sound like a bunch of laughs. I can’t imagine their reaction if they find out a punk rock chick is staying at their daughter’s perfect apartment. They’ll probably call a cleaning and disinfection service.
I wince and sit on the bed. “Tell me about Zane. You’ve known him a long time, right?”
“Went to school with him.” She sits next to me, then flops on her back, and I like the fact she doesn’t seem to care about spoiling her perfect hairdo. “We were never very close, but yeah, I know him quite well. He and Asher are besties, and Asher used to be besties with Audrey, who is my bestie.”
I try to work this out. “Asher stopped being besties with Audrey?”
“Yeah, because he was in love with her. So he stopped talking to her.”
“This makes no sense.”
“Boys make no sense, girl.” Tessa sighs and closes her eyes. “Attraction makes no sense. Don’t you know that?”
No, but I can imagine. I mean, my limited experience with boys almost got me killed.
“So Zane doesn’t give his phone number. And he doesn’t kiss.” I picture his mouth, his full upper lip and the way he grins, and my body tightens. “Like, ever?”
“That’s what I’ve heard. I’m not interested in Zane that way, so I never paid much attention.”
“Who are you interested in?” I try to recall our meetings with the guys. “It’s Dylan, isn’t it? That guy with the big shoulders.”
She doesn’t speak, and I wonder if she’s fallen asleep. Then, without opening her eyes, she says, “He used to be a quarterback at school.”
Makes sense. With that body… “Does he still play?”
“No.” She sits up suddenly. “He stopped.”
I sense a sad story there, but Tessa stands up, making it clear that this conversation is over.
“Make yourself at home. I’ll make a few phone calls, see if I can find you a more permanent roommate.”
But I want Zane. God, what’s wrong with me? Haven’t I made up my mind that’s a bad and in any case impossible idea?
“Hey, Tessa.” I wait until she turns. “If I asked you for Zane’s phone number, would you give it to me?”
The curiosity in her gaze turns into pity. “You have a crush on him, don’t you?”
I can’t deny it. Hi, my name is Dakota, and I have a crush on Zane Madden, the Manwhore. Someone please shoot me.
“He’s a great guy,” she says. “But be careful with your heart.”
“Never mind,” I say, bowing my head, and listen to her leave.
Part Two
Zane
Some memories are hazy.
And some are too damn clear. I do my best to bury them deep, where they won’t intrude on my everyday life. Just looking at me, you probably can’t tell how close to the surface the nightmares live. But throw in a random trigger, and I’m drowning in the past. It’s like flicking a switch, opening the gate and letting the horror in.
Icy water. Hands like vises digging into my arms and legs. No air. Suffocation. Panic. The certainty I’m gonna die. That no matter how hard I struggle, I won’t make it.
Yet I still try. I always try to escape.