I sigh as I pull onto the interstate. “Well, I told you I'd meet up with you to give you at least what advice I have, and I'm a man of my word. So just let me know when and where.”
“You busy now?” he asks. “I don't have anything until later.”
I glance at the clock and figure I have a few hours. “Yeah, that works. Your place?”
“Sounds good. I'll text you my dorm number.”
The two of us get off the phone, and instead of heading home, I go toward campus.
CARTER'S DORM IS NOTHING like I imagined it would be. He's always been a privileged douchebag who never heard the word no. Therefore, seeing him living in a dorm just like everyone else catches me off guard.
I walk up the steps and find the room number he gave me. After I knock, it only takes a few seconds before he opens the door to let me in. The room is bigger than average, but it's still nothing spectacular.
Looking around, I hum. “I kind of imagined you living in some sort of college penthouse.”
He laughs, but it doesn't sound sincere. “Yeah. It's taken some getting used to, but I don't mind it.”
“Were you guys in a dorm at Florida State, too?” I question.
He shakes his head. “Do you want something to drink?”
I shrug. “A beer?”
“I've got water,” he answers.
“That works, too.”
Carter grabs two bottles of water from the fridge and throws one to me before sitting on the couch. I take the chair across from him and notice the view of campus out the window.
“So,” he starts, “is you knowing about this drug shit a public school thing?”
My brows raise. “You do realize wealthy people are more likely to do drugs because they can afford it more, right?”
“Really?” He genuinely looks shocked. “I mean, I guess that makes sense.”
I roll my eyes. “No. Last year, I dealt with a couple close friends abusing drugs. One almost died.”
He looks down at his lap, and I can tell that's a concern for him. “Tessa, right?”
“Yeah,” I sigh. “And my other friend spiraled because of it. It took months before I finally got him back to a point where I didn't have to be afraid of leaving him alone.”
I don't mention Easton by name for the same reason I wouldn't tell Amelia about Blade. It's something he wants to keep quiet, and I can respect that. Besides, it's not my secret to tell.
“I really hope Jace doesn't reach that point, but it's not looking good,” he murmurs.
I nod, understanding his worry. “Do you know why he might be doing it? Is he just bored and looking for something to do?”
“Nah,” he answers. “We went through some pretty serious shit when we were in Florida, and I guess this is his way of dealing with it.”
“That bad, huh?”
He huffs out a small laugh. “You have no idea.”
It's obvious he doesn't want to talk about it, so I don't try pressing him for any information. Now that he mentions it, something has been off with the both of them. For example, calling me about Amelia hanging all over Mason is never something he would have done. Hell, he probably would have hit on her himself if this was a couple years ago. And his humor has been a little much, like he's using it to block out the pain.
I drop the subject and start telling him things that he can do to try to keep him from getting high, like making plans to do things that don't involve parties, or having a couple beers at home. I also tell him that one of the worst things he can do is try to threaten him or give him ultimatums. Most of the time, that only ends badly and will make him shut down even more.
The door opens, and we both go silent as Jace walks in. As soon as I see him, I know exactly what Carter meant. He looks dead inside. The bags under his eyes tell me he hasn't slept in a while, and it looks like he hasn't showered either.