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4
Zara
When the alarm on my phone goes off, my first instinct is to throw it across the fucking room.
So, I do.
Unfortunately, it keeps going off, some techno beat that usually gets me pepped up, but this morning just makes me want to scream.
I groan, flinging my covers off and stumbling over to the wall I threw the phone against, picking it up and silencing it as I rub my eyes with my fist. I’ve got one hour until class starts and the last thing I want to do is set foot out of this room.
The past three days have gone by in a haze of cops, questions, accusations, and fending off frantic messages from my mother. Not to mention the other texts from concerned citizens sending me links to the short video clip that’s spread around campus like wildfire. The one of my fucking ex flashing my tits in his house.
In light of a dead girl at the bottom of his pool, it would seem my tits would be the least of anyone’s concern. However, I’ve seen them on my phone screen more times than I’d like to count in the past three days, so apparently, people are as equally fascinated with nudity as they are death.
There’s a knock on my bedroom door and I tense, opening my mouth to tell Kylie that I’m fine, but the door bursts open anyway because I didn’t have the sense to lock it after I got back from my dealer, Jax’s, house last night.
Kylie stares at me, looking a little dumbfounded, one hand still on the knob.
I arch a brow. “Yes?”
She opens her mouth. Closes it. Clears her throat and looks at the floor. She’s in loose linen pants and a white T-shirt. Her pajamas. Her silky black hair is in a topknot, and she tucks a stray lock of it behind her ear before she looks up and meets my gaze again. Kylie Jones is like five feet tall and about as wide as my pinky finger.
She’s as quiet as she looks like she’d be, which is why I’m surprised she’s at my door right now. I know her even less than I know Riha
Kylie and I interact daily, but we don’t co Which is entirely my fault. I’m usually too high to do things like co “I didn’t think you’d be up,” Kylie admits. I would take it personally, but since I’ve been doped up on benzos for approximately seventy-two hours, she’s got a point. I figured skipping two days of classes was okay, since I was the one that found Riha My stomach churns. I don’t want to think about it. “Surprise.” I throw up my hands, phone in one. I’ve got more messages from numbers I don’t know, which is not very surprising at this point. It seems my phone number spread around campus as fast as my tit video. I deleted all of my social media accounts and the apps on my phone, but people are still really into those tits. I know it’ll die down. At least, that’s what I tell myself. Nudes get leaked every other week in college. It’s not a big deal. But then again, I found the fucking body, and Alex Cardi was the one that flashed my boobs. Also, I’m still considered a source of fascination around Caven because I was dating their quarterback. And probably also because I was transferred straight from rehab, and people love a good overdose/rehab story. I finished half a semester in the spring, and fall classes have been in session for three weeks now, but it seems still the only thing people really know about me is my love of drugs and Alex. I’m not so sure about the last one anymore though. Now I’m at the center of the death of the cheerleading captain. Super. But at least I’m not the only one. There were dozens of people at that party, and as fascinated as people might be with me, Alex and Eli are much more interesting. People know them. Respect them. Wa The gossip around them should eclipse me. Plus, a girl died for fuck’s sake. They should hold pep rallies and memorial services for her and leave me the fuck alone. Or take their concerns about my tits and the pool up with Alex. The last I saw of him, I was in the passenger seat of Kylie’s car after she, very kindly, came to pick me up when I was done talking to the cops. Alex was getting into his Jeep to follow an officer to the police station. Eli had already left. He’s the one that called the cops after he came up behind me in the kitchen. I haven’t spoken to either of them since then. Maybe I should reach out to Eli, considering Riha We weren’t friends, and despite what went down with us Saturday night—the fuzzy memory thankfully, or not, having come back—he wouldn’t expect me to reach out. Not to mention Eli wasn’t dating her. They were just fucking around, I guess. I don’t know. Eli never talks about women. Or anything. Not to me. Besides, it’s a little late to reach out now. Three days, and no arrests have been made. Toxicology results aren’t in yet, but it seems the consensus is that Riha Eli was asleep in his bed, his alibi vouched for by another girl that was at the party, because his dick was in her mouth most of the early morning hours so I’ve heard. Lovely. Alex, of course, was in the guest bed with me. My statement wasn’t great, and I had to admit that I’d drank the night before even though I’m only twenty. They let that shit go since I wasn’t drunk when they were talking to me, although if they’d given me a breathalyzer, I’m pretty sure they’d have found that I actually was, and of course, I didn’t tell them about the drugs. Mine or Alex’s. I didn’t need my mom breathing down my neck more than she has been since the Narcan incident. I didn’t even tell her I was at the party. She’s too spooked as it is that a girl died there. No need for her to get all bent out of shape about my presence there too. She threatens to bring a drug test to my apartment every other week as it is. Thankfully, as long as I visit her often enough and behave myself, she never shows up. Thank fuck for that. It’s probably because she’s a little busy with her soon-to-be fourth husband. But when I moved into this apartment, she made sure to tell little Kylie Jones that I was in recovery and Kylie should keep an eye out for me. Kylie wants to be a pharmacist, and she’s an overeager kiss ass, so she was more than happy to agree to be my babysitter. “How was your weekend?” I clear my throat. “Week?” I amend my statement, trying to avoid any awkward conversation about my tit video or the rumors going around about me, Alex, and Eli, like how we were the last people to see Riha That last rumor isn’t true. I didn’t see shit after Alex pulled me into his arms and kicked Eli out. I mean, no offense to fucking Riha But I do remember her screaming at me, presumably because she was fucking around with Eli and I was fucking around with him. And I remember Alex’s words to her. “If you touch her, I swear to God Riha I start to make my bed after tossing my phone on my nightstand, pushing Alex’s words from my mind as a chill slides down my spine. Yeah, no. Not go