~Joey~
My eyes flicker open to a dimly lit room, which instantly floods my gut with level one dread. If it were my room it would be completely dark, courtesy of Kevin blowing out our electrical system last Wednesday. We haven't saved enough to fix it yet.
Kevin.
Kevin went to that stupid fish bowl party at BEK. He's not home.
Home.
I'm not home, either. I got a text from him, asking me to come drive him home. I didn't find him, and then...
My surroundings become clear at once, giving me a full view of a ceiling that is clearly not mine, which causes my heart to palpitate. My nostrils become active, making me increasingly aware of a pillow that smells nothing like mine.
I push myself to sit up and figure out where the hell I am, but quickly fall back down, hissing as a sharp pain hits me like an expertly delivered blow to my spine. I let out a short, strangled scream and arch my back inwards to relieve the stress on it. "Fuck!"
Heavy, hurried footsteps appear outside the door as someone rushes in. My eyes are still screwed shut from the torture going on in my back, and when I open them, my first sight is the dark brown hair of a guy who is crouched to the ground beside me, digging through an array of things that clink like glass bottles. "You okay?" He asks.
"No!" I say, struggling to keep from screaming again. I bring my hand to my waist and try to soothe the ache there too. "It hurts so fucking much."
He glances up at me, then takes his eyes back to what he's doing. "The painkillers must have worn off."
Painkillers? I turn my head and sharply suck in a breath at the sight of a used syringe on the nightstand, surrounded by an array of bottled pills and other liquids. "What the fuck happened last night?!" My voice comes out at an embarrassing high pitch, but I ignore it as I rack my brain to remember the last thing I did.
Where, when, how?
I don't remember anything, except maybe looking for Kevin from place to place. Knowing myself, if I got drunk, there's a serious issue. What am I doing in a guy's room, for fucks sake? "Oh god. Was I..." I gesture between me and him. "Did we..."
"Wait what? Fuck, no!" He says, eyebrows furrowed as if I just asked him if he's a Nazi.
"What am I doing here, then?"
"I brought you here."
No shit. "What happened?"
He places a hand on my shoulder to stop me from getting up. "You were at a party and I think someone might've wolfied you."
"Wolfied me," I repeat, but not for lack of hearing. My ears work fine, I just can't seem to understand the words that just came out of this guy's mouth. "You think someone drugged me."
He shrugs. "That's only explanation so far. I barely got you out of Haskins in one piece."
I squint. "Haskins?"
"BEK's president," he clarifies, holding bottles up to his face to read their labels. "You were drinking there last night."
Color drains from my face as the reality hits me like a speeding train. "I had like two drinks and they were heavily diluted."
He nods. "For some drugs, you only need one sip."
I'm still trying to process what he just said when he sits beside me. The bed dips with his weight, causing me to roll onto my side. I hiss again and he quickly reaches his arms to steady me. "Easy, there."
He's not wearing sleeves, so the side of my face brushes a tattoo on his bare bicep. I'm too scatterbrained to focus on anything, though, so I let him help me back up, ignoring his faint but smoky and entirely masculine scent.
He lifts a knee to steady me, then brings his arms around me as he assists me to a sitting position, leaning against the headboard. He later takes the second pillow and places it between me and the headboard, then moves back. "You good now?"
"Yeah," I say, strained.
He nods, leans back and grabs the bottles he was playing with. Two small, plastic containers. "Can you dry swallow?"
"Do I look like I can dry swallow?" I manage between deep breaths to ease the intensifying back pain. That came out harsher than I expected, so I look up and shake my head. "I didn't mean...I mean no."
He clenches his jaw and gets off the bed, leaving me propped against the headboard like one of those Barbie dolls that can't sit up on their own. Hot tears sting at the corners of my eyes as I get yet another reality check. I feel my pockets the best I can to find my phone. I sweep the nightstand through with my eyes but don't find it anywhere. Shit.
When he returns, he hands me a glass of water.
"Where's my phone?" I ask.
"I didn't find it," he says. "I looked around for it after you fell but it was gone by the time I found you." He brings his hand to the bottom of the glass and pushes it towards my mouth before I can react to my phone being pronounced missing. "Drink up. You need the fluids." I immediately chug half the glass, realising how thirsty I am. He stops me and hands me the small bottle. "Take two of those. Should be immediate reli—Wait!"
"What?" I pause.
He gestures to my hand. "Turn them over. Never take pills out of a bottle without checking first."
Feeling slightly ashamed of my upbringing-and admittedly too weak to argue-, I meekly thank him for his helpful piece of advice and do as he says. When they're confirmed not counterfeit, I throw them into my mouth and flush with water.
"All gone?" He asks, reaching up to grab my jaw, to check my mouth. When I frown in question, he sharply lets go. "Sorry, just checking."
I relax against the headboard, almost smiling at what just happened. "What made you think you had to check?"
He smiles at me, and for the first time since I lay down, I notice how incredibly gorgeous this guy is. "My little sister, Ashley," he says by way of explanation. "She used to hide pills in her mouth and spit them out later. I just...I don't know."
I grimace, though a little bit amused. "Damn. But ew, wouldn't they just melt?"
He shrugs. "Her mouth, her business."
I find myself smiling for some reason, then I realise I just reminded a hot guy about his little sister. Great. The thought of sisters makes me think about siblings, which leads me back to my own sibling, who is still missing, as of this morning.
THIS MORNING!
"Shit!" I curse. He flinches. "What time is it?" I ask.
He glances round the room, stopping as his eyes meet the table clock beside me. "Eight fifteen, why?"
"I have an exam at ten!" He cocks his head at me. I instantly launch myself off the bed, thankful that the painkillers have started their work, though not as fast as I'd like right now. There's still an annoying kink in my back as I limp around the room, trying to find my things. "Shit!"
"Calm down. What are you talking about?"
"My brother," I say. "Kevin. He was here last night for one of your stupid parties!"
"No, he wasn't." His eyebrows furrow and the look on his face hardens a tad bit. "Kevin was never here."
"What do you mean?" I ask him, searching for my phone to call him. "I came here looking for him."
He grabs me by the hand and leads me out of the bedroom and into a long hallway I recognise, but not from last night. Jacob Haskins' house was way bigger than this. I've been here before, but I can't place it.
I turn around, completely at a loss for words. "Where am I?"
"You're fine, Joey," he says. "I found you at Haskins' two nights ago and brought you back here."
"Two?" I hold two fingers up. I'm back to repeating his words because nothing makes sense all over again.
His jaw clenches again as he studies me, waiting for me to do the math in my head.
I was at Haskins' on Thursday, and he just referred to that as two nights ago, which means that it's been two days since I left Bowen. I've been passed out for two. Fucking. Days. "But what about..."
My saliva hooks in my throat as I feel a hand on my shoulder. "Will you just come back in and let me explain?"