Campus Player

For the next ten minutes, I scour the first floor of the house before moving to the backyard where the party has spilled out, but there’s still no sign of him. Maybe Ethan was wrong, and he isn’t here. Or maybe he took off for a different party. There are enough of them happening around campus.

I’m about to call off the mission and make my way back to Sydney when I spot Sasha, one of our goaltenders. I wave, and we end up chatting for a few minutes. I didn’t realize other girls from the team were here. I’ve combed the entire place and haven’t come across another teammate. Sasha informs me that a group of them are party-hopping, and they showed up thirty minutes ago. Most of the girls are like me—they like to go out and have a good time, but they don’t need to get shitfaced in order for that to occur. A number of them have athletic scholarships that pay for a chunk of their tuition and don’t want to jeopardize it. This may be a party school, but the sanctions for getting caught, especially if you’re an athlete, are severe.

“You haven’t seen Justin around, have you?” I yell over the music to make myself heard. Why am I even bothering to ask? It’s not like I really want to meet up with him. Now that I’ve found Sasha, I can hang with her for the rest of the night. Or I can try to find Sydney and hope they’re done sucking face.

That thought brings a snort to my lips.

Sasha’s brows draw together as confusion flickers across her expression. “I didn’t realize you two were still a thing.”

“Yup.” At this point, it’s more of a technicality. I really need to talk to Justin before I tell anyone else that’s no longer the case.

“Oh.” A troubled look fills her eyes before she glances away. “Um, yeah,” she mumbles, “I saw him about ten minutes ago in one of the back rooms.”

“Great, thanks.” Her less than enthusiastic reaction has a prickle of unease blooming in the pit of my belly. Before it can take root, I shake it off. “I’ve been looking for him but haven’t had any luck. This place is a total madhouse.” I shrug. “I suppose if he’s here, I should say hi.”

“Yeah.” Sasha gives me a slight smile in return. “I guess so.”

Decision made, I take a step toward the back bedrooms when she reaches out, wrapping slender fingers around my forearm. While Sasha and I are friends and teammates, we’ve never been close. Although we’ve always been cool with one another.

“I’m sorry, Demi. I didn’t know.”

Her comment is so out of left field that I have no idea what it means. “What are you sorry about?”

Before I can ask anything more, she releases me and disappears into the crowd. I blink, and she’s gone.

That was a really bizarre thing to say. Maybe Sasha is more drunk than I assumed.

Even so, my brain churns, trying to come up with an answer that makes sense.

I’m tempted to go after her and get to the bottom of this, but it would be like searching for a needle in a haystack. I’ll pull her aside on Monday at practice and figure out what she meant.

It takes effort to shake off her cryptic words as I push my way through the mass of bodies toward the back hallway off the kitchen. The first bedroom I peek inside has about eight people sitting around, smoking a bowl. A thick haze permeates the air. A cursory inspection tells me Justin isn’t here. And since I’m not looking for a contact high, I quickly back away. The last thing I need is to test positive for pot. All athletes at WU are drug tested throughout the year. They agree to random testing when they sign their NCAA eligibility paperwork before stepping foot on campus. Most of us have worked our entire lives to reach this level of play and aren’t willing to throw it away over a couple hours of mindless pleasure.

I check two more bedrooms, but Justin is nowhere to be found. It’s always possible that Sasha was wrong about seeing him, and it was simply a case of mistaken identity. At this point, I’m not even sure it matters. I’ve had enough and am more than ready to call it a night.

I’m about to take off in the opposite direction down the hallway when a noise catches my attention. It’s barely audible over the pumping beat of music that echoes off the paper-thin walls.

I’m not sure what has me creeping around the corner. A sixth sense maybe. Even though there are more shadows where the light from above doesn’t reach, plunging the narrow area into darkness, there’s enough illumination to make out the guy standing with his back pressed against the wall. A rough groan slides from his lips as my widened gaze drops to the girl on her knees in front of him. It’s fairly obvious what’s going on here. My lungs fill with air as the girl works him with her mouth, sucking him deep into her throat before sliding nearly to the tip and repeating the maneuver.