Ecstasy

3

Alex

Having a corpse at the bottom of your pool really dampens the party mood, and having the cops in my face, again, really a

Fantastic.

But regardless of what they think happened here, they’ve got no evidence to support their theory that someone drowned Riha

Still. It’s a fucking hassle, on top of all the shit I’ve got to deal with when it comes to Zara.

My father already had a lawyer sent to the station where they brought me in for interrogation. I answered their stupid questions and walked out free in a matter of hours, which is more than I can say for last fall. That took a hell of a lot longer, and Eli’s dad had to come bail me out of that shit.

I open the door of my black Jeep, parked behind the Falls Creek police station, and just as I slide in, my phone vibrates in my back pocket.

I pull it out, roll my eyes but answer it, holding it up to my ear, resting my head against the seat.

“What, Dad?”

“I’d think you’d sound a little more grateful considering I just saved your ass—”

Pastors shouldn’t say “ass”. Instead of telling him that, I interrupt him with, “I didn’t do it.” I’ve said that half a dozen times already this morning and it’s not even seven a.m.

“I’m not saying you did, son, but we both know you’re going to be the prime suspect because it was your house—”

“It’s Eli’s house.” I live in it, but Eli’s father, Eric, put it in Eli’s name.

My dad sighs on the other end. “Eric called. Eli’s name is already cleared.”

Of course his name is already cleared. Eli is the fucking golden boy at Caven University.

It’s not like I want him to get arrested but damn. Everyone thinks he’s so damn smart and so damn responsible and it all rings in my ears, “Eli’s dad is a lawyer, “and “Eli wins championships,” and “Eli controls his temper and Eli has a bright future.”

Yeah, well, Eli almost fucked my girl last night. And last year, we almost did the same shit with a different girl. I’m pretty sure Eli isn’t as good as everyone thinks he is.

But I wouldn’t actually know.

He’s been my roommate for the past three years but some days, I don’t think I really know the guy at all.

“My name is cleared, too,” I tell my dad. “You know how Riha

My dad is quiet on the line and for a second I wonder if we got disco

“Dad?” I hate the way it comes out. Like I want him to be here or some shit. I don’t want that. I haven’t wanted my dad to be there for me since I was fifteen and everything went to shit.

Before that, I dealt with the fighting. My mother flinging accusations his way of cheating and being an asshole. Calling him a hypocrite, a liar.

He might’ve worked for “the Lord”, but he was God to me. Throwing the football with me every single day at the beach. Taking me to practice, signing me up for camps. Watching the game with me every Sunday during the season.

I took his side every time she started screaming at him.

But then he fucked everything up.

“Yeah, son?” he asks in answer to my plea, his voice heavy. Full of exhaustion. As if he feels the past six years weighing on his shoulders, too.

I close my eyes, swallowing hard.

Riha

I say it out loud for the first time. “Riha

He sighs. “I know. I’ll need to reach out to her parents later today, after they’ve had time to…” He just trails off. Time to what? Process it? That their twenty-year-old daughter was found dead in a pool after a back-to-school party, right after she started her senior year?

Yeah. Being a pastor sounds like it would blow. Dad’s church is on the coast, a two-hour drive from here, but he knows Riha

I mean, I’m just barely on the team, since I’ve got to sit the next few games out for breaking Nate’s nose—he deserved it.

I blow out a breath, thinking of Riha

I didn’t know her well. Like most everyone else, she preferred Eli to me. Girls always thinking they can get him to open up, or some shit.

Eli doesn’t even play fucking football.

“Is Eli okay?” my dad asks me.

I don’t fucking know. Eli doesn’t talk about shit like his feelings. Before the cops had me follow them down here, he was sitting in the wreck of a living room, silent, drinking a glass of my orange juice, as if girls who sucked his dick were found dead in a pool every morning.

My stomach flips, a lump forming in my throat.

“Son…” My dad’s voice sounds strained. “Was Zara there?”

I tense in my seat. Dad doesn’t like Zara. He thinks she’s a bad influence. He’s not wrong, but it’s not really his fucking business. I don’t know why it matters, anyway, except… I do know.

The thing about having a dad overly involved in your sport is that he hears shit he shouldn’t. Things that would be better off kept from your parents.

And he knows I caught Zara sucking Jamal’s dick last week.

I clear my throat. “Yeah, but we weren’t… Not for me,” I lie to him, not wanting to deal with this shit. I don’t know what’s going on with me and Zara anyway. “I don’t want to talk about her.” I start the Jeep, put my seatbelt on with one hand. “How’s Mom?” I ask, changing the subject to one my dad doesn’t want to talk about.

There’s a pause and I realize I’m holding my breath, waiting.

Finally, he just says, “She’s fine.” Which means she’s probably not fine at all. Probably pissed as hell at me, or in a fucking Xanax-induced sleep, which is why she isn’t on the call. I can’t even blame her.

I think my dad and I have just been one big ass disappointment after another to her.

“Great, well, I’ll talk to you later.”

“Wish you were going to be at service this morning,” my dad says quietly.

Anger blooms in my chest, and I clench my jaw for a second. “Right. Well. I’ll be down fall weekend for the beach party, if we still decide to throw it. I’ll stop by then.” I press my foot on the brake and put the car in reverse to pull out of my parking spot. “Talk to you later, Dad.”

“Love you, Alex.”

I end the call, toss the phone in the passenger seat and pull out of my spot, turning up the music playing through my speakers.

FEEL NOTHING by The Plot In You.

Riha

But the last person to see her alive was me, and Eli himself.