Tell Me When

by Stina Lindenblatt

Marcus

  I study the girls in the crowded room. Most are already drunk, an easy lay with no commitment. I feel off balance again, and I don’t know why. It’s been this way since the library, when I heard the girl screaming in her sleep. And then her reaction when I woke her. She was genuinely scared. Not scared because of her dream. Scared because someone has hurt her.

  I may be an ass, but I would never hurt a girl. Use them, yes, by mutual consent, but never hurt them.

  “You still angry ’bout Carlos?” Chase asks.

  “Wasn’t till you brought him up.”

  “Then why do you look ready to screw half the girls here?”

  “It’s nothing.”

  Chase rolls his eyes. “Yeah right, dude. I know you. Something’s bugging you.”

  I chug back my beer, stalling. No way am I mentioning Kitten. A girl having the power to unnerve me would make his day. “Like I said, it’s nothing. But you are right about me wanting to get laid.” I go back to scanning the possibilities and catch sight of a tall blond nearby. Her strapless dress shows off her tan and hot bod. She looks over and tilts her head to the side, obviously checking me out.

  She looks away, though I can tell she’s still interested. This is all part of her game.

  She’s the type I usually go for—hot and willing—but for some reason I can’t make myself go over to her. “You want another beer?” I ask Chase instead.

  He chuckles. “You’re blowing off that girl for a beer. Now there’s a first.”

  I shrug. “What can I say? My priorities might be a little screwed tonight.” All I can think about is the girl in the library. The same girl I’ve seen three other times, who thinks I’m stalking her, and who’s made it quite clear she’s not interested.

  “You sure you haven’t changed your mind about Tammara?” Chase asks.

  I don’t get the chance to answer as I spot the girl from the library talking to a guy who reminds me of an overgrown ape. And from where I’m standing, she looks happier talking to him than she did talking to me, though that’s not saying much.

  I try pushing away the image of my body pressed against hers, my lips exploring her mouth, her neck, her breasts, continuing south until I reach the part of her that will leave her screaming my name. I try to push the image away. But as hard as I try, I don’t succeed.

  “Hey, Marcus. What’s up?”

  I tear my gaze from Kitten and turn to find a guy from one of my engineering classes. Chase disappears into the crowd. I’m not sure if he’s even noticed I’m not with him.

  “Hey, Todd.”

  “I see you’re checking out Amber.” He nods toward several people, including Kitten.

  “Which one’s Amber?”

  “The girl in the pink long-sleeved T-shirt.” Kitten.

  “You know her?”

  He nods. “She was in my AP physics class last year.” He looks back at her and an odd sort of pain twists onto his face. “I wouldn’t waste your time with her.”

  A pretty red-haired girl slips past several people, her face flushed. “Todd, I’m not feeling good. Can you drive me home?”

  He brushes his hand against her cheek and frowns. “You’re really hot.”

  She nods and leans into him.

  “See you in class,” he says to me before they walk off, his hand on her lower back.

  I glance back at Kitten then head toward the kitchen. The other girl, the one with the light blond hair, is sounding more appealing by the second. She should help me forget about the girl who reminds me of a kitten, soft and vulnerable, and ready to scratch your eyes out if you aren’t careful.

  In the kitchen, I grab some beer from the keg and join Chase at a table where he’s watching a heated game of quarters.

  “Any other takers?” a guy who could play football or hockey says.

  I’m about to volunteer when Kitten walks into the kitchen and hurries out the back door. She doesn’t look like she’s rushing to get somewhere. She looks like she’s trying to escape, but whoever was after her must have given up the chase. No one else enters the room after her.

  I miss my chance to play. A girl who looks like she’s had one too many beers goes against Chase and two other guys.

  The guy Kitten was talking to stumbles into the kitchen. He scans the room, frowning, and leaves out the same door Kitten escaped through a few minutes ago. A prickly feeling in my gut warns me something’s not right.

  I push past the crowd around the table and exit the back door. I can’t see either Kitten or the guy when I step outside, due to the number of partiers around the pool. I’m surprised the cops haven’t been called yet. It’s as loud out here as it is in the house.

  I walk around, scanning drunk, grinning faces for Amber. Shit, where’d she go? A voice in my head whispers that maybe I’m jumping to conclusions. That maybe they’re making out somewhere, not wanting to be found by me or anyone else.

  Just as I’m about to ignore my gut and return inside, I see them by a large pond. Amber looks annoyed, her lips squeezed in a tight line. She jerks left, then moves to the right, but Ape Man isn’t fooled and blocks her. I’m already stalking toward them as he leans in, ready to kiss her. It’s clear to anyone but this idiot that she’s not a willing participant. Anyone but this idiot can easily recognize her expression for what it is: a mixture of shock and fear.

  She turns her head to avoid his kiss, hands pushing against his chest. Undeterred, one of his hands grabs her behind the neck and forces her face to his. His other hand cups her breast, ignoring that she’s squirming to get away.

  A fiery protectiveness scorches within me. I snatch hold of his shoulder and whip him around. Kitten slips past and I slam my fist into his face.

  He stumbles back and his hand snaps to his jaw, to where my fist made contact. “What the fuck is your problem?” he growls.

  “You, shithead. She didn’t want you kissing her.”

  “S-says who?”

  I want to slam my fist in his face again, to jump-start a few of his brain cells. “She did. Or do you usually kiss girls who look scared shitless?”

  He sways on his feet. “She wasn’t scared. She wanted me.” Only now he doesn’t look so sure. He glances over my shoulder. I don’t have to look to know we’ve got an audience.

  “The only thing she wanted was for you to leave her the fuck alone.” I step closer, trapping him, giving him a taste of how she felt. “And if I catch you near her again, I’ll beat the shit out of you.”

  He holds up his hands. “Okay, I got it.” He doesn’t stick around to see if I have anything more to add. He stumbles toward the house.

  I follow, ignoring the curious gazes watching me. Once inside, I search for Amber. Her friend is dancing with a guy, but I have no idea if she and Kitten came here together. If they did, then Amber has to be here, somewhere.

  I continue looking for her, but give up after scouring the place for fifteen minutes. She either doesn’t want to be found, or she’s fled the party.

  The restless feeling from earlier intensifies.

  “You looking for me?” a girl asks as I scan the living room. I turn to find the blond who flirted with me before, her mouth curved in a seductive smile. She places her hand on my arm, eyes focused on my lips. “Hi, I’m Emma.” She lifts a plastic cup to me. “You look like you could use another beer. So I got you one.” Her words are slightly slurred, but she doesn’t seem overly drunk. All bets are off when the girl’s too drunk to know what she’s doing.

  I take the cup from her. “Marcus.” She’s even prettier up close, with blue eyes that want to devour me and a body made for action.

  She might not completely take the edge off how I’m feeling, but it’ll be enough. And sex with Emma is a much better option than tracking down Tammara.

  I
brush my thumb against her cheek and she leans into me. I breathe in her coconut scent. My junk tightens in my jeans and I push away all thoughts of Kitten. If she doesn’t want to be found, then this girl will most definitely do. And I’d be crazy to go after a girl like Kitten. It’s the last thing either of us needs.

  My lips caress Emma’s and she moans. “Do you live near here?” I ask against her mouth.

  “I live on campus. Can we go back to your place?”

  “Sorry. No one’s allowed there. My mother’s sick. With cancer.” The first part’s right, even though I don’t live with my mom. She is sick. Sick enough not to stop Frank from hurting me and Ryan. Sick enough to have babies and not care about them.

  I gulp down the beer. “Do you have a roommate?”

  “Yes. But she’s away for the weekend.”

  “Will you be able to sneak me in?”

  She nods, confident, as if she’s snuck plenty of guys into her room without getting caught, though I can’t help notice a thread of sadness in her eyes.

  Not wanting to dwell on that and miss out on this opportunity, I say, “Okay, let’s go.” I place my beer on a coffee table that’s been pushed against the wall and remove my phone from my back pocket.

  Mission in motion, I type, letting Chase know I’m leaving. Although he doesn’t openly judge me for sleeping with so many girls, it doesn’t mean he thinks it’s a good idea. One day he’ll let his opinion be known, and I’d rather he didn’t do that in front of the girl I plan to screw.

  Since Emma came to the party with her friends, I drive us both to the university and park near her dorm.

  “Give me a few minutes and I’ll let you in,” she says outside the emergency exit.

  I examine the door. “The alarm won’t go off?”

  “Hasn’t yet.” Further proving she’s done this before with other guys, which is a good thing. It means she won’t expect anything between us beyond tonight.

  Five minutes later I’m still waiting for her to let me in. Shit. How long’s this going to take? There’s always the chance she changed her mind and went to bed without bothering to tell me first. I pace back and forth, deliberating whether to give it another minute or two, or just bail and return to the party. It’s still early. I can find another warm, willing body to take her place.

  As I’m about to walk away, the side door opens. “Coast is clear,” Emma slurs, a little more than before.

  I nod and quietly follow her into the building, up three flights of stairs, and down the hallway. She needs to work on her spy skills. She giggles for no reason every so often, setting me on edge. I hate gigglers.

  Except for one other guy wandering the hallway, we don’t bump into anyone. Which is lucky, since there are a couple of parties going on. A battle of loud music—pop verses rock—and giggling spill into the hallway.

  “This is it.” She opens the door and motions me into a room that can only be described as an orange-and-pink explosion. I pull her into my arms and kiss her. Rum and coke. She didn’t taste like this earlier when I kissed her. So that’s what took her so long.

  I deepen the kiss and slide my hand down to her ass. She moans.

  I pull away slightly. “Which bed’s yours?”

  She points behind her. I walk her backward to it.

  A photo on her desk catches my attention. In it, Emma and Kitten are standing with a good-looking guy, his arm around Kitten’s waist. I pick it up. “Who are they?”

  “That’s Trent. My brother.” She leans over and pukes in the trash can.

  “You okay?” I ask, which is obviously a dumb question. Clearly she isn’t. I put the photo back on the desk.

  She straightens. “Yeah, I’m good. Just give me a second. I have to go to the bathroom.” To puke some more, no doubt.

  Which means she’s too drunk for this to be consensual. Which means if we have sex, it’s rape.

  She’s barely gone a minute before I slip away. But as easy as it is to leave Emma, it’s not so easy to stop thinking about Kitten. The girl in the picture looked happy, but the girl I’ve met doesn’t look like she’s done much smiling lately.

  Chapter Eleven

  Amber

  The red numbers on my alarm clock glow 6:00 a.m. I might as well go to the gym. After last night, I need to work out more than ever.

  Brittany snores softly, her back to me. I guess I wasn’t screaming in my sleep this time. That, or she drugged herself so she doesn’t have to worry about me accidentally waking her with my dreams.

  Dawn stretches across the sky as I jog toward the gym, keeping my eyes and ears open to anything unusual. And not for the first time, I wish I could run outside instead of being forced to use the treadmill. I used to do it all the time. This was my favorite time to run, when the world is fairly quiet, and it was just me and Emma and Trent.

  Since it’s Saturday morning, the gym is quieter than normal. I select a treadmill and start running, pushing myself harder than usual, if that’s even possible. After a few minutes, sweat drips down my face and back. My legs and lungs burn, a sensation I welcome. It means I’m alive.

  “Hey, you’re here early.” Even at six in the morning, Jordan’s smiling.

  “I woke...up early.” I attempt a smile. I really am happy to see her. It’s just my brain, as well as my leg and face muscles, are all fighting for the same limited supply of oxygen. “Figured...you’d sleep...in.”

  Jordan’s smile vanishes and her gaze drops to my treadmill console. “What’s going on?”

  “What...do you mean?”

  “You’re supposed to be able to talk when you run. Why are you running so fast?”

  “I just...felt like it.” And I don’t want to stop.

  “I can tell when you’re upset. You always push yourself way too hard on the treadmill. So what gives?”

  And once again, I’m shocked that this girl, who I haven’t known for long, who I’m keeping secrets from, cares enough about me to notice something’s wrong. And that makes me smile inside, even if my muscles can’t replicate the effect on my face.

  “It’s...nothing. I was...thinking about...math test.”

  Jordan climbs onto the treadmill next to me. I slow my pace. She’ll want to talk while running, and I can’t do that, breathe, and run at the same time. I’m having a hard enough time with the last two as it is.

  “Wish I could help you with your math.” She lets out a long, loud breath. “But I can’t.”

  “Why not?” I ask. She’s never mentioned that she’s struggling in her course. And if she’s pre-med, she must have the same math requirements. It would only make sense.

  She focuses her attention on the treadmill, pretending it’s the most fascinating thing around. She presses Start and increases the speed until she’s running just a pace slower than me. “I told you I want to be a child psychologist, right?”

  I nod. “You did, but you said your parents want you to be a physician.”

  “A surgeon,” she corrects.

  “O-kay. So what does that have to do with you not being able to help me with math?”

  She shrugs, a sheepish expression on her face. “I can’t help you ’cause I’m taking algebra not pre-calculus.”

  “What, you don’t need calculus for pre-med?” I don’t see the fairness in that if I require it for pre-vet.

  She shrugs, again. “I’m not exactly taking pre-med courses. I’m taking courses for a psych degree.”

  I almost stop running and fall off the treadmill. “Do your parents know?” From the first day we met, she told me she was going into medicine, like I told her I was going to be a vet.

  She shakes her head.

  “Are you planning to tell them?”

  Again, she shakes her head.

  “Never? Won’t they fi
gure out you’re not a physician at some point?”

  “Yeah, I guess. But you don’t know my parents, Amber. My family. Everyone, including my brother and sister, went into medicine. My parents will be furious.”

  “Even if it means you’re doing what you want to do?” Something that won’t cause her to faint or puke, which isn’t the case with medicine.

  “My parents aren’t like yours,” she says, oblivious to the truth about mine. “Mine will be disappointed in me, and I can’t handle that.”

  “I know what you mean. My mom wanted me to enter the family business, too, and be a lawyer.” But surely Jordan’s parents wouldn’t turn their backs on her. Not if they know how much child psychology means to her. At least Mom didn’t say I couldn’t be a vet. She just pointed out that corporate lawyers make more money.

  “She knows you’re not studying pre-law, right?” Jordan asks.

  I nod.

  She looks thoughtful for a moment, but I get the idea it doesn’t change anything. She still plans to keep the secret from her parents for as long as possible.

  “Anyway,” she says, “we’re not discussing my math grade. We’re discussing yours. You could get a tutor.”

  Inwardly I roll my eyes at her attempt to change the topic. But I can’t complain since I’m just as bad. “Except I don’t know any.”

  “What about him?” She jerks her chin at the dark-haired guy who just entered the gym. The same dark-haired guy who offered to tutor me in math. Who’s she kidding? I doubt he even knows what pre-calculus is. Sex seems to be his subject of choice.

  “Wouldn’t it be better if the tutor actually knows something about math?” I ask.

  “I’m guessing he knows a thing or two, considering he’s an engineering student.”

  I let out a choked laugh. “Where did you hear that?”

  “From the guy I was dancing with last night. He and Marcus are in a class together.”

  “You talking about Marcus Reid?” a girl on the treadmill next to me says, loud enough to be heard by half the people in the gym. Including Marcus.

  I shoot her a look at the same time Jordan says “Yes.” Just what I don’t need—Marcus thinking I’m interested in him. Which I’m not.