by Teagan Kade
She kneels down, puts her chin on the edge of the table and smiles. “Now, is that any way to treat a former lover?”
At least she’s got the ‘former’ part right finally. God, I wish Willow wasn’t around to hear this drivel. “Leave, or I’ll make you leave.”
“I’d listen to him if I was you,” adds Willow.
Taylor shakes her head slowly, pretending Willow isn’t there. “Ashey, Ashey, Ashey. You’re going to regret this.”
“So you keep saying. Now go.”
She stands and puts her hands up. “Okay, I’m going.”
She backs towards the door blowing a kiss at me. “Whatever you say, Slugger.”
The door closes and we’re once again left in peace, but I’m not through with Taylor. She’s got to know this is not okay.
“I’ll be right back,” I inform Willow, grabbing my backpack from under the table. The top’s open. Half the contents almost spill out before I have a chance to zip it back up and head out. But when I reach the front of the library, Taylor’s nowhere to be found.
Like her brain cells, she’s evaporated.
*
We arrive at Willow’s dorm room shortly before nightfall. Technically, males are against dorm policy, but no one seems to mind as I walk the halls. In fact, given the stolen glances and soft giggling, I’m sure they’d let me stay if I asked nicely enough—not that Amy would approve. The girl’s like something out of The Ring, all long hair and angst. I’ve seen her around a few parties getting the full college experience.
All that shit seems so distant now. It’s like I’ve been with Willow forever.
Amy’s nowhere to be found, but two campus security guards and Karen are waiting in the hall outside Willow’s room.
Given where we are, I expect Karen to address Willow, but she looks to me. “Asher.”
“Karen.”
She points. “I’m afraid we’re going to need to see that backpack.”
I turn. “My backpack. Why?”
Willow looks to me confused. “What’s going on?”
“We’ve had a report of stolen exam papers,” says Karen. She extends her hand. “Your backpack, please, Mr. Slade.”
I sling it off and pass it to the nearest Rent-A-Cop. “You’re wasting your time.”
While it’s being checked, Karen faces Willow. “I’m sorry about this, Willow, but we have to follow up on incidents like this. I’m sure you understand how—” She stops, the security guard handing her a collection of papers from my bag I don’t recognize.
She leafs through them.
“What hell are those?” I ask.
She looks up at me. “Where did you get these?”
They’re exam papers alright.
I put up a hand. “I have no fucking idea.”
“Language, please.” She sighs, handing the papers back to the guard. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to notify the Dean.”
“Honestly,” I protest. “I have never seen that exam before in my life. That’s the truth.”
“Mr. Slade,” starts Karen again.
I back away. “No.” And then the ball drops. “Taylor,” I announce.
Karen looks to Willow. “Taylor Vaughn?”
“Yeah,” I nod. “We just saw her at the library. She could have easily slipped something into my backpack. She was right there.”
Karen narrows her eyes at me. “And why would she do that?”
I throw my arms up. “I don’t know. Because she’s a psychopath, because she can’t stand to see me happy.”
Karen looks unconvinced. “Where would she even get these?”
“Was it her? Was she your anonymous tip?” asks Willow.
Karen’s glances between us again. “Okay, since you’re asking, Willow. Yes, Taylor was the one who reported it, so I understand your suspicion. In fact, Taylor herself has been under suspicion for some time regarding her grades, but understand I still have to run this through college protocol. Asher can state his case at the hearing.”
“The hearing?!” Willow cries, alarmed.
Karen nods. “I’ll make sure your concerns are heard, but for now, hang tight.”
“Hang tight?” I laugh. “While my grades are flushed away?”
Willow takes my hand. “It will be okay.”
All I can do is shake my head. “I sure as hell hope so.”
*
Five painful days pass before I’m called to the Dean’s office.
Karen and the Dean are already seated when I arrive, a third woman I don’t recognize is there to take minutes. It’s fucking cut-the-air-with-a-knife serious in here.
“Take a seat, Asher,” says the Dean.
I do.
“I’m sure you know why you’re here, Asher, so let’s get right to it. Documents were found in your backpack earlier this week, exam papers, to be precise, stolen from a professor here at the college. As I’m sure you can gather, that’s not good.”
Taylor’s going to get away with it, I think. She’s going to sink me, until there comes a ‘but.’
The Dean looks to Karen. “It has come to light during our investigation that you are, in fact, the innocent party here.”
Thank fuck. My chest deflates.
“As was suggested, the evidence points to Taylor Vaughn at this point. We have footage of her entering the library with what appears to be the exam papers in hand. She was also seen leaving the professor in question’s office only fifteen minutes prior, and she was the one who called this in.”
“So she’ll be reprimanded?” I ask.
The two exchange another look. The woman taking minutes stops typing.
“I’m afraid,” Karen begins, her voice tight. “While everything points to Taylor’s guilt and culpability in this matter, we don’t have any hard evidence connecting her to the papers.”
“But the footage?”
Karen shakes her head. “As I said, it appears to be the exam papers, but the video quality’s not good enough to place them.”
“What about the professor? What did he say?”
Karen glances down. I think she’s embarrassed more than anything at the whole thing.
The Dean interjects. “The professor in question has been spoken to, but he has no idea how Ms. Vaughn may have gotten her hands on the papers. They were in his office, yes, but he has an open door policy. In truth, anyone could have taken them.”
Fucking great. I exhale in frustration. “So she gets off scot-free?”
The Dean stands. “You have our apologies, Asher. And as for Ms. Vaughn, she’ll get what’s coming to her in time. I’ve been here long enough to know that.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
WILLOW
I’m on a high after the hearing. Yes, Taylor’s guilt hasn’t been proven… yet, but surely it’s only a matter of time until she slips up.
I don’t think Asher sees it the same way, which is why I’m dedicating all my energy to getting his mind on it.
I pull a flyer off the campus bulletin board as we pass by the science building and hold it out so Asher can see. “What do you think? Is it time I let my hair down?”
He reads it over. “The Sig-Phi ‘Let Your Hair Down’ Party? That one gets pretty crazy. The Hellcats are guest hosting, you do realize.”
I pocket the flyer and take his arm, letting my head falling against his shoulder. “I’ve heard you do crazy pretty well.”
“Who did you hear that from?”
“Mr. Slimey.”
Asher laughs. “I bet poor Mr. Slimey wishes he didn’t have any eyes at all given the things he’s seen me do to you.”
I tug at his arm. “So, are we going?”
“You really want to?”
“I do.”
“Fine. Why the hell not? It’s been a while since I showed my face at Sigma-Phi, and I suppose we are celebrating, are we not?”
“Oh, we most definitely are. You might even be able to get me drunk and have your wicked way with me.”
<
br /> He smiles. “I don’t need to get you drunk for that.”
“It’s nice to see your ego’s still in check after all this business.”
“Hey,” he muses. “Some things don’t change.”
He stops, moving to stand in front of me. “Are you sure you’ll be okay, given what happened in high school?”
I shrug. “I have been avoiding parties for a while now, but I think I will be okay. Besides, I have you now. You’ll look after me.”
“You bet your ass I will.”
*
The Sig-Phi house has the enviable position of being located right at the back of Greek Row, largely away from any neighbors and prying security eyes. It’s the perfect place for a party, which is no doubt why the Hellcats decided to set up here tonight.
We hear the party long before we come to the house itself.
I’m wearing the kind of dress I would have worn years ago, so tight and tiny I may as well be wearing a loincloth, but when we arrive at the party, I’m almost overdressed.
Asher leans down to my ear. “Don’t worry. You’re the hottest girl here by far. Want to meet the hottest guy?
I’m wondering who he’s talking about until he steps in front of me and extends his hand. “Asher Slade. I’m sure you’ve heard of me, and you are?”
I take his hand, smiling. “Willow. Willow Grant.”
“Can I get you a beer, Willow-Willow Grant?”
I stifle a giggle and nod. “Sure.”
I watch Asher weave his way through the crowd. A couple of the Hellcats have shown up to the party sans shirts, their cut chests featuring various slogans and pictures applied with marker—at least I hope that’s what it is. It all starts to come back—the ever-prevalent red party cups, the kegs, the girls hanging around the perimeter hoping to catch an eye, maybe an STD. It’s strange being back in this world.
Once he’s sorted me out with a beer, Asher makes the rounds and introduces me to the team. I was expecting hostility, the usual teenage boy behavior, but the other players are genuinely nice guys. I learn one of them is even in my pre-med class. How he manages to play ball and study is beyond me. The guy must be superhuman.
Like Asher.
“Brother, have you got a moment?”
We turn around together to find Leon standing there. I’m about to run off, when Leon puts his hand out. “Wait, please. I only want to apologize.”
Asher stands aside. He was expecting this.
I look to Asher. “Okay.”
“I was an asshole,” Leon starts.” It’s as simple as that, and I’m sorry I caused any kind of trouble between you guys. That wasn’t my intention.”
“You told Asher about Mr. Slimey, didn’t you?”
He nods. “I did. Sorry if I—”
“No,” I cut in. “Thanks.”
Leon smiles. “Any time.” He looks around. “Not quite as crazy as the parties we used to attend in high school, right?”
Incident aside, there were some good times.
Leon looks to Asher. “There was this one party, man, out in the sticks. This kid in our class—Casper, we used to call him—he was so wasted he fell into a poison ivy bush. The poor bastard had hives for a month, looked like a biology experiment gone wrong.”
I remember it well. I remember a great many things from high school… and many I’d rather forget.
“Sorry,” says Leon, addressing me. “I guess you don’t like to be reminded about all that.”
“It’s fine,” I say with a forced smile. “I think we’ve all moved on. You seem to be doing pretty good for yourself.”
Asher brings his hand down on Leon’s shoulder. “Best arm in the college league, I’d say.”
“You’re flattering as fuck, bro, but you’re full of shit.”
“It’s true,” Asher continues.
Leo’s eyes cut to me again, pointing to Asher. “Watch this one, okay?”
“Why do you say that?” I ask.
Leon smiles. “Because Slugger here always gets what he wants.”
Asher takes hold of me. “I think I’ve got everything I need.”
“Amen.”
Leon drifts off to the other Hellcats who are busy playing a drinking game involving an upturned log, a hammer, and nails in the corner. I hope they’re not planning a crucifixion.
I settle into Asher on a particularly saggy sofa, hand on his chest and the beer doing its work dulling my sense. “I could get used to this.”
Asher laughs, stroking my leg. “That’s the unfortunate thing. You do get used to it.”
“You never went to parties like this when you were in school?”
“Once, but that ended with my head in a toilet and my underwear wedged so far up my ass I could taste it the following morning. Childish bullshit, really.”
“Was it really that bad?”
“You don’t know the half of it, but I left that kid behind, just like I’m sure you left your inner wild child behind.”
I subtly shift my hand to his crotch. “I didn’t leave her all behind.”
“Well, well.”
Asher and I look up to find an extremely intoxicated Taylor pushing her way through the crowd to us, a bottle of Grey Goose in her hand.
It’s half empty.
She points to me. “You, you little slut.”
Asher stands up. “Hey, watch your language.”
“Should I add thief?”
The music cuts out, people gathering around at the fuss. I want this couch to open up and swallow me whole.
Asher tries to steer Taylor away, but she leaps back. “Get your fucking hands off me!”
He puts them up. “Easy now. You’re drunk.”
She knocks on the side of her head. “I am thinking perfectly straight, asshole, and you know what?” He doesn’t reply, so she looks around to those gathered. She points to Asher. “This guy thinks he’s all hot shit and Mr. Perfect, but he’s not. I mean, look at this pathetic waif he’s fucking. How does a girl that small even take a dick, Ashey? Tell me, because I really want to know. Does she give good head? Take it in the ass? Is that it?”
Now I stand up. “You should leave.”
I’m getting sick of saying that.
She starts for me, but Asher puts an arm out. “If you’re done, I think you should listen to the lady and get the fuck out of here before you embarrass yourself any further.”
Laughing, Taylor takes another slug of the vodka. More of it ends up on her cheerleading top than in her mouth. “The mighty Asher Slade has spoken, everyone!” she bellows. “You motherfucker. How could you?”
Asher’s shaking his head. He’s over this. “How could I what, Taylor?”
“Fucking rat on me, go to the Dean all high and mighty like that. Do you know what fucking happened? Do you have any idea?” She slaps herself in the chest and I’m certain she’s going to cry. “They came to my room. They came to my room and they searched it like I was some kind of criminal. They found the fucking exam papers, didn’t they? The ones I took from that professor I’m fucking. Unlike you, he appreciates what a fine piece of ass I am. They all do.”
All?
The other partygoers are looking around with the same look on their face, the look of pure disbelief that even Asher’s wearing now.
He steps forward. “Taylor…”
She swings the bottle. “Fuck off!”
“Taylor,” he tries again.
She looks to me, pointing the neck of the bottle at me. “I’ll fucking cut you, bitch. Try me.”
A hand grabs the bottle from behind, pulling it from her grip.
She spins. “What the f—” She stops when she sees it’s Leon. “You too, huh?”
“It’s time to go, Cameron Diaz,” he says. He takes her by the arm, leading her away. “I’ll escort you back to your room.”
She turns back to us, spitting. “See? This is a fucking gentlemen. I might just suck his dick if he’s lucky.”
Leon mouths ‘H
ell no’ to us and holds her around the waist, wrangling her through the crowd. They push back like she’s a leper. No one wants to be close to that kind of crazy.
“Thanks,” Asher calls to Leon.
“Any time,” he calls back, Taylor almost stumbling out of his grasp.
I slump back into the sofa, my heart beating hard. “You’re right. This party is getting crazy.”
Asher falls beside me. “That was something. What, I don’t know, but definitely something.”
“Do you think she’ll be okay?” I query.
Asher looks at the spot where the crowd is closing back over, the music kicking back into gear. “I sure as hell hope so, but who knows? Another beer?”
I flash him a smile. “Have you got anything stronger?”
*
I’m a little tipsy as the party works into the witching hours, though nowhere near as inebriated as Taylor was.
We’re dancing in the middle of the lounge room. I turn and grind back against Asher, a sudden wave of horniness forcing dirty ideas into my head. I can tell by the iron rod in Asher’s pants that the feeling’s mutual.
He runs his hands down my sides towards my inner thighs. Little does he know I’ve been wet for hours, desperate for his cock, his mouth.
He places his lips against my ear. “I think it’s time we left.”
I spin, throwing my arms around his neck. “Why? Got somewhere better to be?”
“How about inside you?” he whispers.
My clit pulses with need. “So take me home then.”
I give a yelp as he sweeps me off my feet, holding me in his arms. “Oh, I’m taking you alright, but we’re not going home. Not tonight.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
ASHER
I put Willow down once we’re a good distance from the party. She’s light as a feather.
The campus is quiet this time of night. Everyone has escaped the cold into various nooks and crannies around the place, warming themselves with either alcohol or the company of a fellow student. If Dean Willis knew the kind of giant sex-fest was going on in the dorms, I’m pretty sure he’d have a fucking heart attack. The tiny supermarket across the road from campus must be making a killing from condom sales alone.
