Текст книги "Ruin"

Автор книги: Rachel Van Dyken

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Chapter Four

Embarrass myself in front of the hottest guy on the planet? Check.

Kiersten

“Where were you?” Lisa sounded outraged at my absence as she threw up her hands in surrender. “I looked everywhere! And Gabe couldn’t find you either!”

“Gabe?” I walked into the room.

Lisa pointed to the couch. “Gabe.”

“I’m Gabe.” A guy with dark hair that fell to his chin lifted his hand into the air in a wave. He had a nose ring and so many tattoos lining his arms that I thought I was going to have a seizure from all the moving parts.

“Hey.” I waved back. “Nice to meet you. And how was Gabe looking for me if he doesn’t know who I am?”

“Facebook.” Lisa shrugged. “I stalked you, pulled up your picture, pushed it into his face and—”

“Yelled,” Gabe interrupted. “She yelled. A bit of an exaggerator that one. She had it in her mind that you got kidnapped.”

“Sort of did,” I grumbled.

“What!” Lisa shrieked.

“Are you on drugs?” I leaned in to examine her eyes.

“Coffee,” Gabe offered. “She’s had enough to kill a person.”

“Who took you!” Lisa grabbed my arms.

“Me,” a voice said from the door. Aw crap, did he have a tracking device on me or something?

Lisa’s mouth dropped open. It looked like she was going to pass out. Even Gabe looked stunned. Okay, right, Weston was hot, but not hot enough to render both sexes speechless.

I turned on my heel. “What do you want?”

“Ooh, touchy. I like.” He gave a sloppy grin. “You left your purse.” He handed me my black Dooney and Burke. “I didn’t look through it, just so you know.”

Well, I hadn’t even thought about that possibility. My pills were in there. He’d probably label me a freak if he saw them. What kind of person needed meds to deal with her life? I did. I just wish I didn’t have to take them.

“Uh, thanks.” I tried dismissing him. Instead he looked around the room, his eyes seeming to focus on every single detail from the paint to the carpet, and then finally, he stepped back out into the hallway. “Oh!” He held up his hand. “I almost forgot.”

Weston pulled a sharpie from his pocket and snatched my hand before I was able to put it back into my pocket. With swift movements he wrote a phone number onto my palm and blew across it until it dried.

I felt that breeze all the way down to my toes. I think I may have swayed on my feet too, but I couldn’t be certain because I blacked out for a few seconds.

“There.” He lifted his head and looked into my eyes. “Just in case the lamb can’t find her way home.”

“Cute.”

“Thank you.” He winked and walked out the door.

The room fell silent. I shrugged and turned to face Lisa. Her mouth was open, she looked alive, but nothing was coming out of her except for a slight moan. Was she having a stroke?

Gabe jumped up from the couch and went to slam the door closed

“Shit!” Gabe clapped his hands and swore again. “Outside of football games and class, I’ve never seen him. I mean, he doesn’t talk to people. He never leaves his entourage!”

“Entourage?” The only experience I’d had with that particular word was watching the show on my computer. Did that mean he had lots of people around him all the time? Weird, because when I was with him he was alone “He’s our RA.”

“SHUT UP!” Lisa looked faint. “Oh, I need to sit, I need to sit. Gabe bring a fan, I think I’m going to pass out.”

Gabe rolled his eyes. “Good to know how I compare to the god.”

“You aren’t even in the same atmosphere as Weston Michels.”

Michels? Why did that last name sound familiar?

“Thanks, cousin.”

“Anytime.”

“Cousin?” I asked.

“Oh right, Gabe’s my cousin.” She waved me off and started doing breathing exercises.

Well, at least she wasn’t already bringing strange men back to our room. Gabe took a seat next to her, his grin wide.

“Okay, what am I missing?” I sat on the couch and leaned forward. “Is this Weston guy important?”

Gabe let out a laugh and then slapped his leg. “You’re shitting me right? Where have you been living?”

“Bickelton.”

“Huh?” He leaned in as if to examine me. I was speaking English right?

“Small town.” Lisa smacked him and then focused on me again. “I can’t believe you don’t know who Weston is. Seriously? You said you watched TV.”

“I do,” I defended myself. “Well, I mean, I watch Netflix and I read magazines and stuff, you know, when they’re available at our corner store.”

“Holy shit, you live in the fifties.” Gabe snorted.

I glared.

“Weston Michels.” Lisa typed the name into her phone and then handed it to me.

I should have known.

He had an IMDb website. Not a good sign. That screamed entertainment industry. I scrolled further down.

And there it was.

The Forbes article had been done around two years before, about the same time as the accident. I hadn’t been much of a social butterfly then. In fact, I distinctly remember Uncle Jo threatening to throw me out if I didn’t leave my room.

I tapped the screen, making the image bigger. His hair was longer now. He looked happier, easy even, in the Forbes picture. I swallowed the dryness in my throat as I continued reading and looked at the next picture, Weston Michels and his dad, Randy Michels, one of the richest men in the world. They moved to the states when Weston was eight, explaining his accent, I knew he sounded British!

“He’s like a hybrid,” Gabe said, pulling the phone from my grip. “Weston Michels is like two months away from inheriting a multi-billion dollar fortune.”

“Why is he our RA then?” I wondered aloud.

“Punishment for his many sins.” Gabe exhaled. “And when you’re Randy Michel’s son, you don’t sin in silence. The whole damn world sees you for what you are.”

“What you are?” I repeated. “What did he do?”

“Raped a girl,” Gabe said. “At least that’s the rumor. His family paid her off. They were dating at the time. She dumped him, then he forced himself on her or something like that. Details are a bit fuzzy.” Gabe yawned. “Rumor had it that he was going to drop out of school, but his dad must have made him own up to everything.”

“So…” I wrung my hands together, trying to understand. “Our RA is an alleged rapist? How is that okay with the university?”

“How indeed?” Lisa finally spoke up, “The man’s a god. I bet the bitch set him up. No way would that guy risk that much.”

“But rich guys tend to be controlling,” I said, stomach dropping as I remembered the exchange Weston and I had had in his dorm room. Holy crap, was I almost taken advantage of? I wrapped my sweater tighter around my chest.

“Just goes to show money buys everything.” Gabe stretched out on the couch. “He’s our RA, didn’t get kicked off the football team, and rumor has it just spent the weekend partying in Malibu. I’d say he’s just fine.”

“What about the girl?” I asked.

“Ah, Lorelei. She’s just fine. The day after the incident she was seen making out with some other guy, so, yeah, the whole rape thing? Probably not true, though I’d still carry a whistle.”

“Whistle?” I repeated. “Like a rape whistle?”

“No.” Gabe shook his head. “Like one you use at a basketball game. Are you for real?”

“Yes?”

His gaze examined mine. “I worry about your roommate’s safety, Lisa.”

“Eh she’s fine.”

“Right.” Gabe closed his eyes and let out a humorless laugh. “And when the big bad wolf, also known as Weston Michels, decides to pounce on her pasture, what is she gonna do? Hide? Look at her.”

Gabe pointed. I stepped back. Lisa tilted her head to the side, her eyes roaming from my outfit to my hair. I shifted uncomfortably and tucked my hair behind my ears.

“We could make her ugly.” She thumbed part of my t-shirt and squinted. I swatted her hand away and folded my arms.

“We’d have to shave her head.” This from Gabe.

Lisa nodded. “And put a mask over her face.”

“It can be done,” he agreed.

“Um, no.” I stepped back even further. “It can’t. And stop worrying about me. I’m fine.” Right, as long as I had my medication and at least eight hours of sleep every night, I’d be fine. I clenched my hands, allowing myself to feel that brief pain of my nails digging into my palms. If I could feel pain that meant I could at least feel, right? Sometimes I needed that little reminder to know I wasn’t just a walking zombie.

“Alright.” Gabe stood. Apparently the subject was closed. “I’ll be back to pick you guys up around nine okay?”

“Nine?” I asked.

“See ya!” Lisa smacked him on the back as he waltzed out of our room. He was cute, in one of those dark rocker sort of ways, and Lisa was right, I guess. Tattoos weren’t so bad. At least on Gabe they weren’t bad.

“Stop staring at my cousin,” she said coming up behind me. “He’s off limits, as in, bad news for girls like you. He’d take his one night stand and kiss you on the cheek in the morning all before you could say no.”

“Comforting.” I sighed.

“Come on.” She gripped my hand. “We’ve got a lot to do if we’re going to have time to get ready for the party tonight. And I still need to get my ID card.”

“Yeah, I can help with that,” I mumbled softly, briefly remembering Weston’s concerned gaze as he told me to take a buddy everywhere with me and be careful. Were rapists that concerned for others’ safety? He didn’t do it. He couldn’t have, because he could have easily taken advantage of me, and he didn’t. Instead, he helped. Yet the thought lingered… what if?

Chapter Five

Living is hard — dying is easy. You close your eyes and never open them up again. What’s so difficult about that? Nothing really — except it hurts like hell to those you leave behind.

Weston

I should have let well enough alone. My doctor would have told me I was playing with things I should just forget about. After all, he’d say, how much time do you have? I was damn sick of hearing him say that. Ridiculous. Even my dad was tired of the doctors. Then again, I was tired of them when I was eight and was told my mom wasn’t going to make it through surgery.

And again last year, at the hospital when my brother didn’t wake up from his… situation. Some people believe our family was cursed. After all, you can’t have as much power and money that we do and not suffer the consequences. When I was little, my Sunday School teacher told me that sometimes tragedy happened in order to keep us relying on God.

How much more trusting does God need me to be? I mean, I’d lost everything, and last year almost lost my reputation and football career, all because I said no. Funny, nobody ever talks about guys being taken advantage of.

I gripped the phone in my hands. I had her number. How creepy was I? Seriously. I hacked the school system and pulled her number from it. The poor girl already thought I was stalking her, probably wouldn’t help my case if I suddenly called her up and said, “Hey.” Loser. I was an absolute loser. I’d never had trouble getting girls, in fact, I felt a bit gun shy after last year.

My entourage helped.

I only called them that because it made it sound so much cooler than it really was. A knock sounded on the door. I got up but it opened before I had a chance. David strolled in, all three hundred pounds of him, and threw my prescription on the table. “How’s it going?”

“Fantastic,” I lied, and quickly hid the piece of paper I’d written Kiersten’s number on.

“You feeling okay?” David leaned forward and pointed the flashlight in my eyes, like some sort of scientist. I slapped it away.

“Fine.” I cleared my throat and stood. For a brief moment I felt dizzy; that’s what I got for standing up too fast. “Where’s James?”

“Out.” David sighed as if he was tired of me asking a million questions. “He’ll be back to walk you to practice. You can walk, right?”

I rolled my eyes. “I can walk. It’s not like I’m drunk or anything.”

“You stood up too fast,” he said to himself, then pulled out his notepad and wrote a few things down. “Have you been feeling dizzy lately? Out of breath?”

Hmm, did meeting a new girl that took my breath away count? How about being dizzy from her perfume? What would David have to say about that?

“My dad pays you to keep me sane, not nurse me.” I scowled.

David’s eyes narrowed. “You look pale.”

“Shit.” I rubbed my face with my hands. “Can I please have one normal moment? Just one, where you aren’t scribbling on your damn notepad and we aren’t discussing my father or money or my future or—”

David held up his hand. “Got it. Sorry, Wes.”

I felt bad. But at the same time I was irritated all over again. I’d been on edge for months now, and I knew me snapping at David was just going to be another thing he documented when my father asked for his report.

He around the dorm. “Your room looks nice.”

“No small talk.” I laughed. “My room looks exactly how it’s supposed to, clean and approachable. I am an RA you know.”

“Yes, and I’m the queen,” David said dryly.

“Right.” I grabbed my keys and phone. “We’re going to a party tonight.”

“We?” His eyebrows lifted.

“Yes, we. You, James, and myself. I need to meet the rest of the students in my dorm and I can’t do that if I hole up in my room like some sick—” The words died in my throat. I bit down on my lower lip and allowed the dizziness to pass again. “I’m going to go work out.”

“Should you be—”

“It’s all I have,” I snapped again. “I’m not quitting football too, David. Write it down in your little notepad and tell that to my dad. My career is football. I’m too damn good to give it up. The only reason I stayed in college this long was to make everyone happy, but now that—” Again the words faded out. I didn’t want to finish the sentence, instead, I shook my head at David.

He seemed to understand. With a jerky nod, he followed me out of the room and into the elevator. I needed to sweat off the stress of the day, but mainly I needed to stop thinking about the girl with the pretty eyes and even prettier hair. It was long, almost to her waist, but so freaking thick that I couldn’t stop thinking about what it would feel like to thread my fingers through it.

She was the first girl I’d let touch me since Lorelei. Not that I’d actually let her touch me, more like she plowed into me. Nonetheless, I hadn’t flinched. Instead, I’d wanted more.

Clearly I’d wanted more, since I’d all but stalked her for the past few hours. Probably not the way to go about things.

The elevator doors opened with a ding. David and I walked out, and people stared, like really stared. You’d think I’d be used to it by now, but I wasn’t. I hated it. People always wanted something from me. Funny, because I’d give my left arm to be any one of them. I’d gladly take the place of the guy picking his nose by the front door, or even the chick with glasses and buck teeth. I’d trade spots and run in the opposite direction. Not because I hated my life – nope, it was the exact opposite. I loved life.

The doors to the dorm opened.

A few girls held up cell phones, most likely to take pictures. I sighed. Freshman.

I gave a little wave and continued walking, just as James walked up by David and took my left side.

A few more girls giggled as they crossed paths with me. One appeared to faint.

This was my life.

Chapter Six

Into the fire — or maybe it’s out of the fire and into… wait, I don’t remember. Hell?

Kiersten

“You ready?” Lisa wiped some lip gloss from her mouth and checked herself out in the mirror. “Because I know I am.”

I laughed. “Yes, you are.” She had on a miniskirt, heels, and a short shirt. I’d never be caught dead wearing something like that. Uncle Jo would kill me. I would want to kill me. I mean, that’s how girls got into trouble.

“Okay.” She turned, a scowl on her face. “You can’t wear that.”

“What?” I looked down at my straight-leg jeans and boots, I had a white T-shirt on and my hair in a ponytail.

“It’s a party.”

“I know.” I shrugged. “I’m wearing clothes.”

“Yes.” Lisa’s tone was far from encouraging. “But you’re also not a nun, and right now you look like you’re homeschool.”

Homeschool? All the kids I knew that were homeschool were completely normal, crap I’d begged my uncle to homeschool me after everything. I looked down at my clothes and shrugged.

A heavy pounding assaulted the door and then Gabe burst through. “Damn, cousin, you aiming to get laid tonight?”

She smiled.

Gabe’s eyes fell to me. “And you’re dressed like a first grade teacher. Why?”

“Very funny.”

“Wasn’t kidding.” He mock-choked as his eyebrows danced suggestively.

With a sigh I turned back to Lisa. “This is the type of thing I wear. I don’t wear short skirts and belly tops and—”

“See, the very fact that you called this,” she pointed at her shirt, “A belly top, tells me one thing.”

“What?”

“You need help.”

Gabe nodded his agreement.

“Guys, I’m not Cinderella.”

Smirking, Gabe leaned in and murmured, “Drop your shoe, I dare you.”

“Ohhh, he wants to pick up your shoe.” Lisa joked.

“It’s a boot,” I clarified, lifting my foot to show off the shiny black leather.

“Either or.” Gabe gave a flirty shrug. “And clothes or no clothes, you’re still hot, but if I were you, and I had Weston–freaking-Michels panting after me, I’d make him work for it.”

“I, uh…” Playing with my long ponytail, I looked in the mirror. They were right. I looked Amish. I used to be into fashion, but lately things just seemed semi-pointless. At least I was eating and showering – not that Gabe and Lisa needed to know that. It was a giant feat for me to be able to take care of myself.

“Fine.” I rolled my eyes “I’ll wear a different shirt, but that’s where I draw the line.”

Lisa grinned and clapped her hands. “Deal!”

Ten minutes later and I was really doubting my ability to appear normal. The shirt she’d given me didn’t meet the top of my jeans. In fact, there was a good two inches of skin showing. I’d tried to hunch over but then Gabe started calling me Quasimodo, which made me second-guess the whole humpback look.

The party was being held at the main lobby. Things couldn’t get that out of hand, right? I mean, it was a school-sanctioned party. It wasn’t as if they’d have drugs and alcohol or anything.

Uncle Jo had warned me about mixing alcohol with my prescription. Apparently it made people get drunk like twice as fast. Meaning, if I took one drink I’d be dancing around the lobby with a lampshade on my head. Well, at least I wouldn’t be self-conscious about my short shirt anymore.

The minute we walked into the lobby, people stared. It wasn’t the type of stare you got when you had food in your teeth, more like, a curious stare. Maybe it was Gabe. I stood closer to him, and he wrapped his arms around me and Lisa.

“This happens a lot with Gabe.” Lisa laughed and landed a mock-punch to his biceps. “People can’t figure out if he’s hot or just deranged.”

“Thanks, Lisa.” Gabe’s eyes narrowed in her direction then he whispered in my ear, “But for the record, I’m just hot.”

“Of course you are,” I said patronizingly.

He threw his head back and laughed. I didn’t think I could ever be attracted to him, but something about him seemed comfortable, like if I asked him to drive me the four hours home to Bickelton in the middle of the night, he’d say okay and buy me coffee while he was at it. I’d never really had a friend like that before. It was nice.

“So…” Lisa’s gaze scanned the crowd. “Where is he?”

“Your mystery man for the night?” Gabe asked as he walked over to the punch and got us each a cup.

“No.” Lisa’s eyes continued to dart around the room. “Weston. Where is he? He’s the RA, so he has to be here—”

“Do I?” a smooth voice said from behind us. “See, I thought I just had to make an appearance. I didn’t think anyone would actually be searching me out.”

Other than the music pounding through the sound system, it was quiet. I could tell people were trying to hear what he was saying as they edged toward our little group.

He all but ignored Lisa and Gabe. His eyes focused only on mine. “You came.”

“I was forced.”

“Coerced.” Lisa rolled her eyes.

Gabe watched the exchange with open amusement.

Weston was still staring.

Apparently having enough of the awkwardness, Gabe moved me to the side and held out his hand to Weston. “We think she’s homeschool, it’s why she doesn’t talk.” He pointed back to me. I could feel my face heat to five hundred degrees. “But she’s cute as hell so we keep her around. This one is my cousin.” He pointed to Lisa. “And I’m pretty sure you and I had a KI class together.”

Weston’s eyes left mine and landed on Gabe. Nodding, he shook his hand firmly. “Yeah, I think it was archery.”

“Best class ever.” Gabe sighed.

“Ah, now I remember.” Weston laughed. “You’re the guy who shot the professor in the ass with the arrow.”

“She turned me down.” Gabe shrugged.

“Sexual harassment.” Lisa fake-coughed.

Waving her off, Gabe continued talking. “How’s practice going?”

“He’s talking football,” Lisa whispered. “Shh, it’s like watching a baby turtle trying to find the ocean. He’s either going to get eaten because he knows shit about sports, or he’s going to swim free into the ocean and discover he’s a real boy.”

“It’s good.” Weston ignored us. “You know how practice is, brutal. But it’s going to be a good season.”

“You think you’ll get a bowl this year?” Gabe asked, sounding genuinely interested.

“Good Lord the turtle made it!” Lisa whispered in my ear.

“Yeah.” Weston’s eyes flickered to mine before he nodded at Gabe. “Coach is hoping for the championship. After the loss last year to Oregon, we kind of want to redeem ourselves.”

“Tell me about it.” Gabe sighed. “I hate the Ducks.”

“Green and yellow, green and yellow,” Lisa sang behind him.

“I will think nothing about punching you in the face if you sing that again.” Gabe swore.

Lisa grinned. “Well, my work here is done. I just saw one of the guys I met at registration. He walked in, our eyes met. Now I’m going to meet him in the middle of the dance floor.”

When she left, Gabe murmured, “She likes to narrate her own life.”

“Cool.” I laughed. “She needs her own soundtrack.”

“Don’t tell her that.” Gabe shook his head. “I wouldn’t put it past her to start singing rather than talking. And I’m already losing IQ points by hanging out with her.”

The conversation slid into a lull. Weston was still staring. Gabe’s grin grew wider by the minute. Finally, he mumbled something about spiking the punch and walked off. Which really just meant that Weston was the worst RA in the history of RA’s. Especially if he was okay with Gabe spiking things.

“Let’s take a walk.” He offered his arm.

I paused, staring at the outstretched arm and then back at his eyes. “I don’t know if I should.”

“I didn’t do it.” He swallowed, his eyes closing for a brief second before meeting mine again. “The rape? I’m sure you’ve heard about it by now. You can trust me. In fact, I’ll even let you have one of the rape whistles.”

“You carry them?” My eyes widened.

“Hey, guys get raped too.” His smile fell, and then he reached into his pocket and handed me a whistle. “Don’t forget the most important part about owning one of these babies.”

“What?” I took the red whistle in my hands and examined it.

Weston’s breath fanned my face. “Blow.”

“Huh?” Okay, I was going to pass out. His lips were inches from mine.

“You have to blow…” His full lips expanded into a bold grin. “The whistle. You know, in order to get help.”

“Oh,” I said, breathless. “Right.”

He led me out of the lobby. I was lucky to be walking in straight lines after that little exchange. I had no idea why I’d captured his attention, but I still had that sinking feeling in the back of my mind that it wasn’t a good thing. Being his friend would never work and being more scared me half to death.