“Sure. What’s up?”
A tic jumped in his cheek. “I was being stupid. Lazy. Went to grab the book on my desk without thinking about it, and it was too far out of my reach. Dropped it.” He nodded to the wheelchair at the foot of the bed. “I should’ve gotten the chair, I guess, but . . .” He trailed off, and I heard what he didn’t want to say. Whenever Tuck could ignore the chair that gave him mobility, he did.
I knew how maddening it could be, not to be able to do the simple things other people took for granted. Living with Eli Tucker for the last year had taught me to appreciate what I was capable of doing instead of brooding about what I couldn’t.
Bending, I picked up the book and tossed it onto the bed. I knew from experience that it was easier not to make a big deal about any help I ever gave Tuck. He tended toward silence and occasional surliness, but he was usually pretty easy-going with me, which was amazing considering what the guy had been through. Every now and then, though, the limitations got to him, and he’d get real quiet and withdraw.
“Thanks, bro.” He slid the book a little closer and flipped it open. “One more final, then I’m done.”
“Yeah. I’ve got two more.” I reached into a drawer and pulled out a T-shirt. “You excited about going home?”
He didn’t answer right away. “I’ll be happy to be done with classes, yeah. Going home . . . not so much.” His eyebrows drew together. “Coming here gave me freedom, you know? At home, my mom hovers, and my dad worries. And tries too hard. He’s always trying to come up with ways to make my life easier.” Tuck gripped his thighs, still roped with muscles. “It’s harder and harder for me to keep from saying that the easier life option disappeared when my spine snapped.”
I winced. Years of dealing with medical procedures and hospitals hadn’t made me immune to feeling squeamish about other people’s injuries. “Yeah, I get that, I guess. They only want to help, but they don’t understand how to do it.”
“Is it the same with you?” Tuck pushed himself to sit against the pillows. “With your parents, I mean.”
I shrugged. “Not really. But this has always been my life. My parents have been dealing with all my crap since I was born, so they’re used to it. They know what to expect, usually, and they’re pretty cool.” I thought about the tight, anxious expressions I occasionally caught on my mom’s face, or my dad’s sometimes-forced joviality. “But it can be tough when I want to be real, and they don’t. My mom and dad are the most optimistic people I know. They believe the doctors are always going to come up with a solution or a new treatment for me, and it’s all going to be fine. I guess I’d rather be brutally honest. When you don’t think you’re going to have a lot of time left, you don’t want to waste it on bullshit, right?” I remembered my talk with Quinn on the beach last summer. “You don’t want to waste any of it.”
Tuck nodded, slowly. We’d discussed what he called my lack of longevity, although neither of us dwelled on it, any more than we did on the hit that had taken away his ability to walk.
“So. Your girls coming over tonight?” He changed the subject in his typical fashion, and I played along as usual.
“Not sure any of them would like being called ‘my’ girls, but yeah. Quinn, Gia and Zelda are going to hang out. If that’s okay.” I was conscious of the fact that Tuck rarely left our room at night, so I tried to be considerate. It was tough for me to tackle the steps that led up to Quinn and Zelda’s room, and Gia’s was even further up. By default, we often met here, at my dorm, but I didn’t like to take advantage of my roommate’s tolerance.
I knew I was damn lucky, all in all. Tuck liked Quinn—well, who wouldn’t like her?—and he had a joking, comfortable relationship with Gia, who could be, as he said, a little bit of a ball-buster.
Zelda was a different story. Oh, they seemed to be all right with each other, but there was something else there, something I didn’t quite understand. He’d met all the girls at the same time, during our first week on campus. While he’d been polite and friendly to Quinn and Gia, he’d been more cautious around Zelda. I could relate a little; Zelda was over the top, sometimes. She could be loud and maybe even vulgar; Quinn said she had no filter. That didn’t so much bother me, since I’d been known to be brutally honest at times, too, but Zelda talked about things that made people uncomfortable.
Still, Tuck couldn’t have known that when he met her, and that had been the first time I’d seen something off. Zelda had been tense when she came into our room; I could see how wired she was. And when I’d introduced her to my roommate, she’d regarded him almost defiantly, as though she was daring him to react to her.
There had been a moment where I thought he might do just that, a fleeting sense that maybe they knew each other already. But then Tuck had only nodded, the same way he had with Quinn and Gia. And later, when I’d asked him if he’d ever met her before, he’d looked at me like I was crazy.
“How would I know her? She’s not even from around here, right? Isn’t that what you said?”
“Yeah, but the first day I met her, when I mentioned your name, she said something about how maybe she’d met you a while back. So I thought you might know her. Small world and all that.”
Tuck hadn’t looked up from his book. “Lots of people heard of me when I took that hit. It was big news in a small town, you know? And the sob-story got picked up by a few other news outlets. She might remember my name from then. Who knows, right? Doesn’t matter, dude. Drop it, okay?”
I had, and when Quinn brought it up to me, I’d relayed what Tuck had said. Quinn had shrugged it off, too.
But still. There was a vibe I couldn’t quite ignore.
I heard Gia’s voice even before the girls knocked at the door.
“The fun has arrived, boys! Open up for party time.”
I grinned in spite of myself, shaking my head. “Door’s open. Come on in.”
They spilled inside, the three of them, giggling. They were dressed up: Gia had on a short shimmery dress, Zelda wore something black and slinky, while Quinn looked incredible in skinny jeans and a green silky shirt. Gia staggered a little, and I didn’t have to get close enough to smell her breath to know that she’d already been tossing a few back. She made a beeline for Tuck, throwing her arms around him.
“Eli Tucker! You hottie hot hottie, you. Are you ready for a good time?”
Tuck patted her back and gently pushed her away. “Hey, Gia. Looks like you started celebrating a little early, huh?”
Quinn perched on the edge of my bed and cast me a look. “She and Matt had a huge fight this morning.” She kept her voice low. “I think he slept with someone else last night. At least it looks that way. It was ugly, Nate.”
I rolled my eyes. “What does she expect? He’s Matt Lampert. He’s been a dick since the fourth grade. And I thought they weren’t serious. She always says it’s casual.” Gia and Matt had hooked up back in the fall, the first time Gia had gone down to Carolina with Quinn. Since then, the two had had what Gia called sex on demand. Matt seemed to run hot and cold; sometimes he was possessive and jealous of Gia . . . and then sometimes he did whatever the hell he wanted.
“Yeah.” Quinn kept her eyes on Gia. “What she says and what she feels are two different things, in this case. She wants to believe it’s nothing big, but I think she’s in love with him. And he’s breaking her heart on a daily basis.”
“Fuck.” I sighed.
“That’s exactly what Leo says about it.” Quinn rolled her shoulders. “God, I’m stiff. I spent all afternoon studying for this chem final which I’m fairly certain I’m going to bomb. I should probably pull an all-nighter, but I didn’t want to dump Gia on you and Zelda.”
“And for that I’m grateful.” I eyed up her outfit. “So we’re going out, huh? She doesn’t want to just stay here?”
“Nope. She insists that we’re going to Scorpio.” A new club had just opened right off-campus, serving both the over- and the under-21 crowd. Since most of the a
rea bars were pretty vigilant about not serving minors, there weren’t many options when it came to going out. Scorpio was instantly popular and always crowded.
“That’ll be fun.” The irony dripped from my voice. I didn’t like crowds on a good day, but when we also had to keep track of our drunk friend? I’d rather have stayed home to study.
Gia had given up on hanging over Tuck and was digging in her small purse. Zelda stood with her back against my closet door, her face inscrutable as she took in the scene. She was much more subdued when she came here than she was in the comfort of her own room, and I suspected Tuck had something to do with that.
“Aha!” Gia held up her hand, dropped her bag and began dancing. “I found it!” She displayed the silver tube to Quinn. “See? This is that lipstick I told you about, the one I bought in the city from that organic skin care place, ‘member?”
“Yep.” Quinn nodded. “Do you need help getting it on straight?”
“Nooooo . . .” Gia uncapped the lipstick. “Just a mirror.”
“Open my closet.” Tuck spoke patiently. “I’ve got one on the inside of the door, but it’s low, so you’ll have to bend over.”
We all watched in silence as Gia traced her lips with the color, her face close to the small mirror and her ass stuck straight out.
“I can’t wear lipstick.” Quinn touched her own mouth with one finger. I watched in fascination, wishing it were my finger instead of hers. I’d been doing okay in the last year being only Quinn’s friend and not resenting Leo, but every now and then, desire pushed through and I had thoughts I shouldn’t.
“How come?” I cleared my throat and tried to focus on her words instead of her lips.
“Oh, I don’t know. It always ends up on my teeth, and I feel like I look stupid.”
“There’s a trick to it, you know.” Zelda spoke up for the first time since they’d arrived. “To make sure you don’t get lipstick on your teeth.”
“Oh, really?” Quinn smiled at her. “Do share, oh, makeup guru. You know I live to sit at your feet and listen to your wisdom.”
Zelda’s lips twitched, but she continued speaking in the same tone I’d use to talk about the weather. “It’s pretty simple, but you do need another person. A guy. You put on the lipstick, and then you go down on the guy.”
Quinn’s eyes got big. “You, um . . . what?”
“Blow jobs are the perfect way to make sure you don’t end up embarrassed later on.” Zelda shrugged and smiled. “Like I said, the biggest issue is making sure you have a guy on hand who’ll let you suck his cock. But I’ve never met a guy who’d turn down a bj.” Her eyes flickered to Tuck and rested on him for a minute.
Tuck frowned, staring at her. An uncomfortable silence surrounded us, only broken when Gia capped her lipstick and smacked her lips.
“Okay, all prettified.” She made a kissing sound. “Now who’s going to volunteer to let me go down on him to blot my lipstick?”
I nearly fell off the bed, and on his side of the room, Tuck choked. I was pretty sure my face had gone beet-red.
Zelda laughed. “I think you’re out of luck in this crowd, G. Nate’s too honorable to help you out, and Tucker . . .” Tilting her head, she pursed her lips. “Tucker wants you to think he is. Of course, if the rest of us weren’t here, he might take you up on it. Drunk and horny girls are his favorites.”
Tuck’s forehead wrinkled, and his eyes went dark. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
Zelda lifted one slender shoulder. “Just an observation.” She pushed off the door and twisted to stretch. “Are we ready to go, bitches? Mama’s got hearts to break tonight.”
Since I’d become aware of the possibility of having a shortened lifespan, I’d begun setting short-term goals. At first, they were simple: I’d wanted to live long enough to be taller than my mom. To survive until I’d learned to speak Spanish and figured out calculus. To finish high school.
And now, with one year of college behind me, I felt like I could take on anything. My health was stable; it hadn’t gotten any better, but it wasn’t any worse, either. My parents were thrilled that the year had passed so uneventfully, and they’d even begun doing something unprecedented in our little family: they’d taken short weekend trips by themselves. A few times my mom had even made it through the weekend without calling me to check in.
I’d adjusted to sharing a room, too. Tuck and I had ended up to be pretty compatible, and a few months before the end of our freshman year, he’d glanced up from his laptop one night while we were both studying.
“Dude, you good to room together another year?”
I was relieved that he’d brought it up before I had to, but I played it off, shrugging. “Yeah, I guess. Works for me.”
“Cool. Figure it’s better if we stick together. You and I already know each other’s habits and shit, right?”
“Yeah. Good point.”
And that was that. Housing had already informed us that we’d have the same room, since the school had a limited number of accessible dorms. Familiarity and predictability were comforting to me, so I was happy about the prospect of making sophomore year a repeat of our freshman semesters.
The girls would be moving to a new dorm, one that was actually a little closer to where Tuck and I lived. They were going to have a suite, all three of them together, and I knew Quinn was excited about the prospect of sharing a regular bathroom with just two other girls, instead of dealing with a whole floor of students battling it out for the showers and toilets.
“So, Zelda, huh? You’re sure you want to room with her again next year?” We were sitting on the deck at the beach house the weekend after our classes had ended, with my chair under the overhang, protected from the morning sun. Quinn sat a little in front of me in a chaise lounge, her face turned up to the light.
“Yeah, we are. Zelda’s a friend now. She’s got her quirks, sure, but don’t we all? And she doesn’t really have anyone else in her life. She tends to put people off, and I think at least a little of that is on purpose. Plus, she and Gia get along, which will be a nice change for Gia after this last year with Ellie the roommate from hell.” We both shuddered, thinking of the crazy girl who’d made Gia’s freshman year less than ideal.
“And the random hook-ups don’t bother you?” Quinn hadn’t said much to me about her roommate’s extracurricular activities, but Gia hadn’t been so reserved. I knew that Zelda brought guys back to the room on a regular basis, although Quinn insisted she never did it if she knew anyone else would be there. The guys talked, too; Zelda’s name was unique enough that I didn’t have to wonder who they were referring to when they told stories about the chick who put out like a dude did.
I’d overheard one conversation in Psych 101 between the two people sitting behind me. “It’s amazing, bro. She’s gorgeous, like a model or something, fucking hot—and all she wants is fucking without commitment. Matter of fact, she told me before she took me to her room that if I was going to get attached or want to call her again, I could forget it—she doesn’t do complicated when it comes to sex.”
Still, Zelda was always respectful to me. I wasn’t sure if that was because she didn’t see me as a potential sex partner, thanks to my limitations or if it was because Quinn had warned her off. Oh, she flirted a little, and she teased me, but it was never serious and never made me uncomfortable.
She didn’t flirt with Tuck, either, but she definitely didn’t treat him the same way that she did me. She was wary around him, as if he were a panther whose tameness she didn’t quite trust. Every now and then, as on the night we’d gone to the Scorpio for the first time, Zelda would poke at Tuck, testing to see his reaction. But it never went any further than that, and Tuck always swore to me that he had no idea why she acted that way around him.
Quinn pointed her toes and stretched her legs on the lounge chair. I had to look away from the enticing length of tan skin that ran from her hips down to her feet, or I knew I’d get hard. My cock appare
ntly hadn’t yet understood the message that Quinn wasn’t for us. Not in that way.
She was answering my last question, and I tried to bring my attention to what she was saying instead of concentrating on the way her shorts were riding up a little on the side of her ass.
“I don’t love her hookups, but what am I going to say? She doesn’t go around talking about them to Gia and me. I’ve heard her say shit to shock other people, but she doesn’t do that with us. It’s just part of who she is, and if that’s how she wants to live . . .” Quinn shook her head. “That’s up to her. And next year, with us being suite mates, we’ll each have our own private bedroom. So what she does in there is her business, as long as she’s not putting Gia or me in danger.” Her eyes flashed momentarily. “Or hitting on our boyfriends.”
The air changed as soon as Quinn brought up Leo, and for once, it wasn’t my doing. My two best friends had survived their first year of a long-distance relationship without hitting too many bumps. There wasn’t any doubt in my mind that Leo was still crazy in love with Quinn, and of course I knew she felt the same way. That didn’t mean she was happy with everything that was going on, though.
We’d driven down here to the beach together the night before, and I’d noticed that Quinn had been uncharacteristically quiet. She’d talked a little about her grades, which had just been posted, and about Gia, who had gone up to New York to live with one of her older sisters for the summer. But she hadn’t mentioned Leo except briefly in passing.
I rubbed the back of my neck and tried to think of a way to bring up the subject casually. But subtle had never been my thing.
“So what’s going on with you and Leo?”
Quinn dropped her head back and groaned. “Oh, don’t ask. I thought everything was going well, and I thought we had a plan for the summer. Then last night . . .” She massaged her temples, as though a killer headache was lurking in there. “We had a fight. He was pissy about me taking the job down here this summer, and he said he was just going to stay in Carolina. His coach asked for some of the guys to volunteer for this football camp for underprivileged kids. He said since I wasn’t going to be around anyway, he might as well do it.”
The Keeping Score Box Set Page 42
