Game Over (Whithall University Book 2)

by Lisa Helen Gray

  It’s me.

  “Oh, CJ, it’s beautiful.”

  He bounces on his feet, taking it out of the box and wrapping it around my wrist. The charms sparkle under the light when I raise my arm up to see it better. It’s truly beautiful.

  I lean up on my toes, placing my arms around his neck. He wastes no time in wrapping his arms around me, resting his hands on the top of my arse, pulling me further against him as he leans down for a kiss.

  My body hums with delight from the feel of his mouth on mine, the taste of his tongue. Butterflies erupt in my stomach like they do every single time we kiss or touch.

  “You get him, girl,” Willow shouts.

  I laugh against CJ’s mouth, pulling back a little. I didn’t hear everyone catcalling or whistling before, too lost in our kiss.

  CJ grins smugly, wrapping his arm around my shoulder and steering me over to the seats he saved for us.

  “Hey, has Jordan texted anyone? She said she might be able to make it.”

  Just as the words leave my mouth, the door opens and Jordan walks in with four other people. My eyes widen at the lad at the back. CJ is still by far the best-looking person I’ve ever met, but my connection to him makes me kind of biased—and the fact I don’t just love him for his looks.

  This lad, however, is really something. Something book covers are made of, with his short brown spiked hair, chiselled jaw, and chocolate brown eyes. He’s got an athletic build, and wide thick shoulders. He’s clearly strong. The girl tucked under his arm is just as beautiful with her slim frame and sharp blue eyes. Her hair, though… her hair is beautiful, falling in loose waves down her back and reaching her waist.

  The girl walking behind with another bloke makes me pause. Something in her eyes resembles what I see in Rosie’s every day. She looks sad, but happy about the girl in front of her being there, if the longing looks she’s sending her way are any indication.

  She’s beautiful.

  The lad next to her, talking quietly into her ear, looks familiar. I’ve probably seen him around the university. He’s athletic, like the lad in front of him, only he has a smaller frame. He’s covered in tattoos, black and white, and some are colourful. He’s a pretty boy, though, through and through, even with his rough-shaven jaw.

  Jordan waves before heading over to us and sits in front of me, next to Rosie. “Who was that?” Willow asks, voicing my question.

  “I know the girl, Emma. She’s the small one next to the guy with tatts.”

  “Is that the girl you mentioned earlier?” I ask, double-checking.

  “Yeah. I saw them outside and said hi. Her friend and her boyfriend have come from out of town to visit and see how she’s getting on. I sense more of a story there, but don’t want to pry. That Max guy is a hoot. Kind of reminds me of you, CJ.”

  CJ chokes on his hot chocolate, narrowing his eyes. “There’s only one me. I’m limited edition.”

  Jordan’s lips twitch in amusement. “Yep, definitely reminds me of you. He said something similar out in the carpark.”

  CJ scoffs, looking across the room at the table the two couples have sat down at. “Nope, only one me. I’m fucking awesome.”

  I tap his leg, placating him. “Okay, we get it. Did you eat?”

  He groans, rubbing his stomach. “I’m starving actually.”

  Willow leans over Cole to glance at us. “You ate a sub not fifteen minutes ago because the waiting was making you hungry.”

  CJ grins. “That was fifteen minutes ago, now is now,” he tells her, before turning to me. “What would you like to eat?”

  “Just a sandwich—if they have cheese. And a double chocolate chip muffin, if they have that, too.”

  He licks his lips. “I’m sure they do. Want any chips? I’m going to get the lasagne.”

  In other words, he wants me to order chips so he doesn’t look like a pig in front of the others. I giggle and nod. “Sure, but I probably won’t eat them.”

  “That’s okay; I’m sure I can finish what you don’t eat.”

  Meaning all of them, I muse.

  The boys leave the table to go order, leaving Becca, Willow, Jordan, Rosie and me at the table.

  Willow turns to me, smiling. “The lads were telling us how their coach has organised a last-minute game this Saturday to raise money for the children’s hospital. Are you working?”

  “I’m not this Saturday. The manager has someone from the local high school doing work experience, so she doesn’t need all of us.”

  Willow claps her hands excitedly. “That’s great. We’ll all be able to go. I don’t think I could stomach watching that again on my own.”

  I giggle at her pale face. “True. It was brutal. Maybe we can bring some snacks this time. I know I’m bringing sweets.”

  “Something warm ‘cause we’re meant to have three inches of snow over the weekend,” Jordan adds.

  “Will they still do the game if it snows?” Rosie asks.

  “Who knows. This is England; we only have to get a sheet of snow and everyone goes crazy. I only went for bread the other day and the shop had sold out. Same at the next three shops I went to. You’d think we were having a zombie apocalypse.”

  I start laughing at Jordan’s expression. She looks so torn up over bread, so annoyed people went and bought it all. It’s hysterical.

  “What you all laughing at?” CJ asks, sitting down.

  I lean into him, smiling. “Zombies.”

  He shudders, looking around warily. “Fucking zombies. I’d beat that shit hands down. Fuckers would never get near me.”

  I begin to laugh, hoping he doesn’t start off on his list of shit to do if we were to ever have an outbreak. He has it down to where he would go, what he would do, and who he would take with him. I thought I was crazy loving The Walking Dead, but then I met CJ and realised I was sane compared to him.

  I space out when they start talking about zombies, Willow begging them to shut up. My eyes drift back over to the table Emma is sitting at, my mind wondering why she holds so much pain.

  I’m glad she has Jordan because I know if anyone can help her, she can. She looks so fragile and broken. It hurts to watch her.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  I look out of our flat window, wincing at the amount of rain pouring. Instead of the snow the weatherman predicted, we got rain. I guess it’s better than snow. But still rain.

  Today’s the day of the charity rugby match, and if I weren’t all about supporting my boyfriend and desperately wanting to see him in his uniform again, I’d totally ditch to snuggle in bed and read.

  But what kind of girlfriend would I be if I didn’t turn up, especially after he took me to a book signing.

  “What time do we have to be there?” I ask Willow, who is finishing filling our flasks with hot drinks.

  “We’ve still got thirty minutes.”

  I nod, my attention turning to the TV when I hear the news reporter mention Whithall University.

  “Oh, my God,” I gasp. The girls look to the TV, and I hear their horrified gasps follow mine.

  “Marie Fleet, age nineteen, was reported missing this morning. An inside source says Miss Fleet was taken from her shared house sometime last night between ten p.m. and seven a.m. Roommates returned home this morning and found signs of a struggle, before calling the police. Whithall police department aren’t giving a statement at this time.

  “If anyone knows anything related to the abduction of Marie Fleet, police are asking them to step forward.”

  I mute the TV, my arse hitting the sofa with a thud. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

  Jordan looks as white as a ghost. “This is bad. Really bad. This guy just became a serial killer. There’s no telling when this will end.”

  “Do they have any leads?” I ask her, hands shaking.

  She stares blankly in space for a second before meeting my eyes. “No.”

  “We were friends,” Rosie admits from the sofa, looking as pale as the re
st of us. “We both took our required English course together at the beginning of term. She has a twin sister who is a few years ahead of her on the course. Marie was recovering from cancer at the time, which is why both went into medicine. She wanted to find a cure.”

  Tears gather in my eyes. “I’m so sorry, Rosie. Do you still speak to her sister? Maybe you can take her a gift basket, let her know you’re thinking of her.”

  She nods, taking out her phone. “Kate has probably got her phone turned off. She loves her sister. It’s why she wants to be a doctor. She hated the way her sister suffered, so she wanted to do something that could help others.”

  She quickly types out a text while we stay quiet, feeling remorse on behalf of our friend. She’s been through so much already; she doesn’t need this.

  Her phone beeps and she looks down, her face scrunching up in pain, before she starts sobbing. We all move to crowd around her. I rest my hands on her knees, rubbing my thumbs across her skin.

  “It will be okay, Rosie,” Becca whispers, pulling her friend into her arms.

  “She—she said—” She chokes up and Jordan takes her phone.

  Her eyes fill with tears as she stares down at Rosie’s screen. “She said: Thank you, Rosie. I appreciate it. But there’s no point in praying. She’s gone. I can feel it in my soul. I don’t feel her with me.”

  I start crying, dropping my head into Rosie’s lap. My heart hurts for Kate. I sit up, wiping furiously at my tears.

  “The police need to find out who is doing this. How could they do this to innocent people?”

  Willow reaches over and squeezes my shoulder. “He’s a monster. Hopefully the police find him before he hurts her. There’s still a chance she’s okay. Linda Cooper was found two weeks after she disappeared. You’ve got to keep praying. You can’t give up.”

  “She’s her twin,” Rosie whispers, lifting her head out of her hands. Her eyes are swollen and red. She wipes her nose with the sleeve of her T-shirt, looking at Willow helplessly. “If anyone would know, it would be her. They were close, as close as any siblings I’ve ever seen.”

  Willow takes her hand. “The closest thing I have to a sibling is Allie, so I can only imagine the pain she’s going through right now. But at the moment, she’s grieving. Her sister has been taken and she’s scared. She’s letting her grief drive her emotions. Just be there for her, support her. That is all you can do. Remind her she’s not alone.”

  Rosie nods, wiping her eyes. “You’re right. I’d feel the same if I lost Becca. She’s like my sister.”

  Willow leans forward and kisses her cheek. “It’s all you can do.”

  “If it’s okay, I’m going to stay here instead of going to the game. I’m going to order some stuff for Katie.”

  “That’s a great idea. We can put a movie on,” I offer.

  She shakes her head. “No, you guys go. CJ and Cole will only be grumpy if you don’t. And I don’t want them giving me the stink eye. It makes me nervous,” she giggles, teasing.

  A month ago, I would have taken that comment seriously. She was scared to be in the same room as them. But since she moved in, she’s gotten used to them. She doesn’t even flinch when they’re being loud and boisterous. She’s come a long way, but she still has a long road ahead of her.

  I frown. “Yeah, you’re probably right.”

  She laughs, shooing us away. “Seriously, go. I’ll be fine.”

  “I’ll stay with her. I need to get some homework done, anyway. I just didn’t want to be rude when CJ demanded I go and root for him.”

  I laugh, remembering CJ’s reaction to Jordan telling him that watching boys running around sweating wasn’t her thing. He told her he was everyone’s thing.

  “Are you sure?” I ask, looking at Rosie.

  She blushes a little, no doubt over being alone with Jordan, but nods. “Yeah, I’m sure.”

  “Okay, well, we best get going. We want to get a place at the front before their little fan club get there,” Willow says, looking torn about leaving, like the rest of us.

  I scoff, rolling my eyes as I walk over to my coat, gloves and hat. “Hopefully they stay in.”

  “Did you want me to stay?” I hear Becca ask Rosie quietly.

  “I promise, I’m fine. You go. I know you’ve been dying to see a certain player in action,” Rosie teases.

  Becca slaps her arm lightly, glaring. “Shush.”

  “What’s this about a player?” I ask, smiling.

  She gets up from the sofa, pulling her coat on. “Nope, not telling.”

  Rosie and Jordan laugh. “Come on, tell us,” Willow and I call when she starts walking out the door.

  “Nope,” she shouts.

  Willow and I grin at each other before racing out of the door after her.

  *** *** ***

  Umbrella in one hand, cup of hot chocolate in the other, we wait for the boys to come out of the changing area.

  There are more girls than families coming to watch them play. I thought the rain would at least keep some of them at bay.

  I was wrong.

  “Who is this mystery boy, then?” I ask Becca, smirking when a blush covers her cheeks and neck.

  She bites her bottom lip, looking around. “Are you going to keep hounding me until I tell you?”

  Me and Willow turn to face her, standing side by side, and nod. “Yes,” we say simultaneously.

  She sighs, handing Willow her umbrella. “Let me throw my hair up.”

  We wait for her to pull her hair up, watching her impatiently. Becca is nearly as closed off as Rosie. For her to be interested in a boy is miraculous. Willow, bless her soul, got lucky when she began to move forward with Cole. They built a connection, a kindred friendship.

  Becca, however, hardly socialises. Hearing this is a huge deal, and I’m not about to let it go. I’m also going to treat it like any other girlfriend would: by teasing the hell out of her.

  “Stop stalling,” Willow pouts.

  With a grimace, Becca takes the umbrella back and faces us, her cheeks as red as ever. “I don’t know if you know him. His name is Dylan Ford. Please, don’t say anything to anyone, especially Cole and CJ. God, I’d never hear the end of it,” she groans.

  “We won’t. I promise.”

  Taking a deep breath, she continues. “I met him in the cafeteria. I bumped into him and spilled his Coke all over him.” She pauses, frowning when we start laughing. “Shut up! It’s not funny, it was humiliating.”

  Willow pats her shoulder. “Sorry, but you gotta admit, that’s pretty darn funny.”

  She covers her face with one hand before removing it, shoving it into her coat pocket. “Trust me, it wasn’t. He was with a group of girls who started throwing insults and making fun of me.”

  Our laughter subsides. Willow and I turn to each other, both with matching frowns, before turning back to Becca. “Why didn’t you tell us?”

  She shrugs. “It wasn’t a big deal. He told them to shut up, told me it was fine, before walking away. I thought that was the end of it. Then I saw him…” She pauses, biting her lip again and glancing over the field.

  “You saw him…?” I start, wondering where this is going. If she says she bumped into him again, I won’t be able to hold my laughter in.

  Gulping, she straightens her back. “I saw him at the group victim meeting Jordan organised. He was dropping his sister off. I wasn’t sure about going in, so I was standing outside the front of the building, just out of sight. Rosie wasn’t with me and I didn’t feel comfortable walking in by myself. I started crying, and he must have heard me sniffle.”

  While she takes a deep breath, I melt. She never told us any of this, and it occurs to me that she probably didn’t because of Rosie, wanting to be there for her friend more.

  “What happened then?” Willow asks.

  She looks up, her eyes watering but a smile on her face. “He walked over, took one look at me, and pulled me in for a hug. I froze, scared because I’d only had
that one encounter with him. But then he pulled away just as quickly, looking down at me with understanding shining in his eyes. He asked if I was going inside, and I told him no; I couldn’t do it without my friend. He then asked if I wanted to get a drink and wait in the coffee shop until the meeting was over. He said that if I wanted to talk, he’d listen. It’s how I found out about his sister. He told me all about her.”

  My eyes are completely wide with shock. “And you spoke to him about what happened to you?”

  Blushing further, she nods. “Yeah—I couldn’t help it. He was so kind, so understanding, and easy to talk to. Once he opened up about why he was there, I couldn’t shut my mouth.”

  Willow is now smiling. “Cole is like that. He made me feel safe.” She pauses, eyeing the field for a second before turning back to Becca. “Have you seen him again since?”

  She nods. “I keep seeing him around the university. He’ll give me a chin lift or say hello, but he’s always with his friends, and I get nervous and rush off. It’s how Rosie knows about him: she caught the way I was staring at him.”

  “Why don’t you ask him to come to ours next weekend for a movie night?”

  Doubt clouds her expression. “No. He probably felt sorry for me the day he saw me outside. I don’t want to put him in a position where he feels like he can’t let me down in case I break or something.”

  I shake my head. “You worry too much. Just ask him.”

  “I’ll see,” she says, clearly lying. She looks over to the field where the coach and two other men wearing similar uniforms come stepping out of the changing room building.

  “What in the hell is she wearing?” Willow asks out of nowhere, a low growl rumbling from her chest.

  I glance around her, looking in the direction she’s glaring at, and my lips tighten disapprovingly.

  A group of girls I remember being here the last time we came to watch are loitering near the front of the field, wearing similar shirts as to what the lads wear on the field.

  One of the girls has the number fifteen on her back, with Everhert printed above it—CJ’s last name.