Weston pulled a sharpie from his pocket and snatched my hand before I was able to put it back into my pocket. With swift movements he wrote a phone number onto my palm and blew across it until it dried.

I felt that breeze all the way down to my toes. I think I may have swayed on my feet too, but I couldn’t be certain because I blacked out for a few seconds.

“There.” He lifted his head and looked into my eyes. “Just in case the lamb can’t find her way home.”

“Cute.”

“Thank you.” He winked and walked out the door.

The room fell silent. I shrugged and turned to face Lisa. Her mouth was open, she looked alive, but nothing was coming out of her except for a slight moan. Was she having a stroke?

Gabe jumped up from the couch and went to slam the door closed

“Shit!” Gabe clapped his hands and swore again. “Outside of football games and class, I’ve never seen him. I mean, he doesn’t talk to people. He never leaves his entourage!”

“Entourage?” The only experience I’d had with that particular word was watching the show on my computer. Did that mean he had lots of people around him all the time? Weird, because when I was with him he was alone “He’s our RA.”

“SHUT UP!” Lisa looked faint. “Oh, I need to sit, I need to sit. Gabe bring a fan, I think I’m going to pass out.”

Gabe rolled his eyes. “Good to know how I compare to the god.”

“You aren’t even in the same atmosphere as Weston Michels.”

Michels? Why did that last name sound familiar?

“Thanks, cousin.”

“Anytime.”

“Cousin?” I asked.

“Oh right, Gabe’s my cousin.” She waved me off and started doing breathing exercises.

Well, at least she wasn’t already bringing strange men back to our room. Gabe took a seat next to her, his grin wide.

“Okay, what am I missing?” I sat on the couch and leaned forward. “Is this Weston guy important?”

Gabe let out a laugh and then slapped his leg. “You’re shitting me right? Where have you been living?”

“Bickelton.”

“Huh?” He leaned in as if to examine me. I was speaking English right?

“Small town.” Lisa smacked him and then focused on me again. “I can’t believe you don’t know who Weston is. Seriously? You said you watched TV.”

“I do,” I defended myself. “Well, I mean, I watch Netflix and I read magazines and stuff, you know, when they’re available at our corner store.”

“Holy shit, you live in the fifties.” Gabe snorted.

I glared.

“Weston Michels.” Lisa typed the name into her phone and then handed it to me.

I should have known.

He had an IMDb website. Not a good sign. That screamed entertainment industry. I scrolled further down.

And there it was.

The Forbes article had been done around two years before, about the same time as the accident. I hadn’t been much of a social butterfly then. In fact, I distinctly remember Uncle Jo threatening to throw me out if I didn’t leave my room.

I tapped the screen, making the image bigger. His hair was longer now. He looked happier, easy even, in the Forbes picture. I swallowed the dryness in my throat as I continued reading and looked at the next picture, Weston Michels and his dad, Randy Michels, one of the richest men in the world. They moved to the states when Weston was eight, explaining his accent, I knew he sounded British!

“He’s like a hybrid,” Gabe said, pulling the phone from my grip. “Weston Michels is like two months away from inheriting a multi-billion dollar fortune.”

“Why is he our RA then?” I wondered aloud.

“Punishment for his many sins.” Gabe exhaled. “And when you’re Randy Michel’s son, you don’t sin in silence. The whole damn world sees you for what you are.”

“What you are?” I repeated. “What did he do?”

“Raped a girl,” Gabe said. “At least that’s the rumor. His family paid her off. They were dating at the time. She dumped him, then he forced himself on her or something like that. Details are a bit fuzzy.” Gabe yawned. “Rumor had it that he was going to drop out of school, but his dad must have made him own up to everything.”

“So…” I wrung my hands together, trying to understand. “Our RA is an alleged rapist? How is that okay with the university?”

“How indeed?” Lisa finally spoke up, “The man’s a god. I bet the bitch set him up. No way would that guy risk that much.”

“But rich guys tend to be controlling,” I said, stomach dropping as I remembered the exchange Weston and I had had in his dorm room. Holy crap, was I almost taken advantage of? I wrapped my sweater tighter around my chest.

“Just goes to show money buys everything.” Gabe stretched out on the couch. “He’s our RA, didn’t get kicked off the football team, and rumor has it just spent the weekend partying in Malibu. I’d say he’s just fine.”

“What about the girl?” I asked.

“Ah, Lorelei. She’s just fine. The day after the incident she was seen making out with some other guy, so, yeah, the whole rape thing? Probably not true, though I’d still carry a whistle.”

“Whistle?” I repeated. “Like a rape whistle?”

“No.” Gabe shook his head. “Like one you use at a basketball game. Are you for real?”

“Yes?”

His gaze examined mine. “I worry about your roommate’s safety, Lisa.”

“Eh she’s fine.”

“Right.” Gabe closed his eyes and let out a humorless laugh. “And when the big bad wolf, also known as Weston Michels, decides to pounce on her pasture, what is she gonna do? Hide? Look at her.”

Gabe pointed. I stepped back. Lisa tilted her head to the side, her eyes roaming from my outfit to my hair. I shifted uncomfortably and tucked my hair behind my ears.

“We could make her ugly.” She thumbed part of my t-shirt and squinted. I swatted her hand away and folded my arms.

“We’d have to shave her head.” This from Gabe.

Lisa nodded. “And put a mask over her face.”

“It can be done,” he agreed.

“Um, no.” I stepped back even further. “It can’t. And stop worrying about me. I’m fine.” Right, as long as I had my medication and at least eight hours of sleep every night, I’d be fine. I clenched my hands, allowing myself to feel that brief pain of my nails digging into my palms. If I could feel pain that meant I could at least feel, right? Sometimes I needed that little reminder to know I wasn’t just a walking zombie.

“Alright.” Gabe stood. Apparently the subject was closed. “I’ll be back to pick you guys up around nine okay?”

“Nine?” I asked.

“See ya!” Lisa smacked him on the back as he waltzed out of our room. He was cute, in one of those dark rocker sort of ways, and Lisa was right, I guess. Tattoos weren’t so bad. At least on Gabe they weren’t bad.

“Stop staring at my cousin,” she said coming up behind me. “He’s off limits, as in, bad news for girls like you. He’d take his one night stand and kiss you on the cheek in the morning all before you could say no.”

“Comforting.” I sighed.

“Come on.” She gripped my hand. “We’ve got a lot to do if we’re going to have time to get ready for the party tonight. And I still need to get my ID card.”

“Yeah, I can help with that,” I mumbled softly, briefly remembering Weston’s concerned gaze as he told me to take a buddy everywhere with me and be careful. Were rapists that concerned for others’ safety? He didn’t do it. He couldn’t have, because he could have easily taken advantage of me, and he didn’t. Instead, he helped. Yet the thought lingered… what if?

Chapter Five

Living is hard — dying is easy. You close your eyes and never open them up again. What’s so difficult about that? Nothing really — except it hurts like hell to those you leave behind.

Weston

I should have let well enough alone. My doctor would have told me I was playing with things I should just forget about. After all, he’d say, how much time do you have? I was damn sick of hearing him say that. Ridiculous. Even my dad was tired of the doctors. Then again, I was tired of them when I was eight and was told my mom wasn’t going to make it through surgery.