keep hoping one of us will remember something useful we can take to the cops. The cops need to know what's going on. This wasn’t a one-time thing.
Josh has been making fun of the French Lit majors for the past ten minutes. He’s talking with his hands and has a sexy smirk on his lips. “I mean, what are they going to do with that? It’s a self-serving degree. There is literally nothing they can do with it when they’re done. It’s as helpful as a lobotomy after a colonoscopy.”
I cringe and stare at him. “Wow," I say, feeling my eyebrows inch up my face. Art eludes him. Like seriously, he’s got no clue. Still, it’s funny to hear someone so pragmatic try to make sense of something like French Lit.
“I know right?” He glances over at me, gesturing to my outfit. “What’s up with the endless track suits. I mean, I love P.E. as much as the next guy, but most women like to mix things up. You seem to be bipolar when it comes to attire—either smoking hot dresses or sweats. Do you have a problem, Kerry? Should I schedule an intervention?”
“There was an incident with my clothes.”
“Obviously.”
“And I’m financially challenged, so I bought a few outfits—”
He cuts me off, “From the campus store. Kerry, I can loan you money. Although, I wouldn’t mind seeing you walk around naked.” He leans back and studies me with a smirk.
I elbow him in the side. “I’m fine, but thanks.”
“If you change your mind, let me know. Seriously, though. No strings. No one ever pays me back, anyway.” He has a vacant look in his eye like he’s remembering something that didn’t end well. Then he flashes a smile my way and slaps his knees, “So, back to Useless Majors 101.”
I tap his knee to shut him up and change the subject. “Well as much fun as this is, there’s something I wanted to tell you—about the drugged booze.”
The grin on his face fades and tension spiders through his body until his fingers ball up. He takes a deep breath, trying to hide his reaction. His fingers go limp again as he rubs his palms on the tops of his thighs. “What about it?” He glances down the courtyard, avoiding my gaze.
“That wasn’t the only incident.” My face pinches as I say it. I felt like we should have told someone when it happened last time, but Emily wanted to pretend it never happened. Telling Josh is a betrayal, and I know she’ll be pissed if she finds out. The thing is, this isn’t funny. Someone isn’t doing this to make girls act silly. It’s not all in good fun, and there’s a nefariousness quality about it that pisses me off.
“What are you talking about?” He turns toward me.
“I was at a party a while back, and the same thing happened to a friend. It was like she was schnockered after smelling her drink. I noticed, and we got her out of there.”
“We? Who helped you?”
“It doesn’t matter. The point is that this has now happened to three women that I know of.”
Josh is quiet for a moment. His eyes cut to the side, and he tents his fingers together, tapping the tips and leaning forward onto his elbows. “So you were with Carter. I’m assuming he helped you get her home?”
I nod. “Yeah, and I know what you’re thinking. It wasn’t him. Carter wouldn’t do something like that.”
“You’ve known him for five minutes. You have no idea what Carter would or wouldn’t do. Although we all know how much I love the guy,” his voice drips with sarcasm, “that pussy wasn’t at my house the other night. So we’ve either got a repeat offender or someone selling GHB, Special K, or some similar shit.” He stops talking and looks up at me. “You were there both times.”
“Yeah, so?”
“Ever wonder if someone was aiming for you?”
“I don’t know many people here, and I don’t think I’ve had the pleasure of pissing anyone off so royally that first night that they’d come after me like that. Now, maybe. Most of the girls in the dorm hate my ride.” I