The Hardest Fall

“Yeah, I was in the weight room, left before you guys were done.” He saw the look on my face and continued, “Don’t ask. I’ll tell you about it later.”

Chris was one of my closest friends. “Coach?” I was guessing it was another argument. Chris was the son of Mark Wilson, one of the greatest quarterbacks of all time and our coach. They argued—all the time. You’d think with his dad as the head coach, he’d have things easier, but no. Chris worked just as hard as the rest of us, if not harder. We spent long, extra hours practicing together, perfecting our game.

He let out a long breath. “Yeah. We’ll talk later, okay? It’s been a long day, so I’m gonna call it a night and head home. I don’t want him on my ass. I’ll find you tomorrow.”

Before I could ask anything else, he said his goodbyes to our small group and left.

I checked my phone again: nothing from Vicky. Thinking maybe she wasn’t getting the texts, I tried calling her a few times, but she never answered.

Starting to get worried, I excused myself and slowly made my way upstairs. My room was at the very end of the hallway on the second floor, and because the party had been a last-minute deal, I hadn’t locked it before I’d left that morning. As I passed the first door next to the staircase, my steps faltered. The second and third floor were always a no-go when the guys threw parties. If I hadn’t known Kyle—our best tight end—for as long as I had, I would’ve barged in and kicked everyone out. But, this was Kyle.

If the sounds coming through his door were anything to go by, it was more than likely that there was an orgy going on in there, and he was most definitely the star of that show. Which didn’t bode well for my room. An eyeful of multiple naked bodies would teach me to lock my door next time. Hesitating in front of my door, I listened for any suspicious sounds. When I couldn’t hear anything, I opened it and was relieved to find that no one had made it that far yet.

The bad news was that Vicky wasn’t in there either. I called her again; no answer.

I tried her roommate, and she answered on the second ring.

“Dylan?”

“Jessie, Vicky isn’t at my house. Has she come back there?”

“No. I told you, she said she was going to meet you at your place.”

I sat down on the edge of my bed and rubbed my temple. Just because they weren’t blasting the house with music didn’t mean people weren’t being loud to make up for it.

“She isn’t here. She knew I was planning on studying in the library after practice, so why would she even come here to look for me?”

“I’m not sure what you want me to say, Dylan. We had a sorority meeting at eight and after that was over, she changed and said she was heading out to your place. That’s all I know. She probably has her phone on silent. Try again.”

I got up and started pacing back and forth in the confines of my small room.

“Look, I’ve tried ten times already and she isn’t answering. It’s not like her to ignore my texts, or any text for that matter. You know better than I do that her phone is always glued to her hand. I’m starting to get worried here.”

Jessie’s long sigh reached my ears. I could picture her rolling her eyes on the other end of the line, which was basically her default when she interacted with people for longer than a minute. “Do you want me to call one of the girls and see if she doubled back there instead?”

“I’d appreciate that, Jessie.”

Without saying anything else, she hung up on me. Even though the shower was calling my name, I was still worried enough that I decided to check the house again and maybe ask a few more guys if they’d seen her around. If she’d made it to the party, someone must have seen her, and if not, I was ready to go out and search for her.

As I was passing Kyle’s room, I noticed that the orgy was winding down, the moans and grunts quieter now. I tried the door and it opened.

Since I had no idea who was in there with him, I kept my eyes on the floor when I asked, “Hey Kyle, did you see Vicky downstairs tonight? Her roommate said she came here.”

Even though I’d heard Kyle murmuring to someone just seconds before I opened the door, the sudden silence that came with my question had me looking up.

The last thing I remembered seeing was Vicky…in the middle of the bed…between a pair of dicks—Maxwell’s and Kyle’s, to be specific—on her hands and knees. I’m sure you get the picture I was staring at.