I hang up.
And then take my fist to the wall.
Hazel
“Make it stop,” I groan, holding my head so my brain doesn’t fall out. God, I would pay a million dollars for someone to shut the blinds and block out the morning sun.
“I wish I could.” Violet laughs at me while I lay in my bunkbed dying. My head is throbbing, and my entire body is sore.
“Explain to me again how I ended up in the pool?”
“Great question. One minute we were playing flippy cup, and the next you were in a conga line dancing around the pool. Evan was there. To be honest, I think one of the girls hitting on Evan may have pushed you. She didn’t look very happy that his attention was on you and not her.”
Holy shit, I don’t even remember seeing Evan. I must have been a mess. “Did I make a fool out of myself?” Violet doesn’t answer, and I groan, smashing my face in my pillow. “Nooo… I did, didn’t I?”
“I mean…he still tried to take you home. You’re welcome for me stepping in. I had to fight you out of his arms. Didn’t feel right letting you go. You were wasted, and he knew that. Didn’t sit well with me.”
Just hearing her say that creeps me out. It takes me back to the first party where we met up, and he mauled me two seconds after saying hello. “Yeah, thanks.”
“No problem. Oh…here’s your phone. Thankfully you dropped it just as you fell in the pool. Evan mentioned you had been talking to your dad?”
I shoot upward, my sour stomach suddenly swooshing around. “What?” Tell me I didn’t get drunk and call my dad. No. No. No. She hands me my phone, and I unlock it and scroll through my recent calls. “Oh,…fuck.”
“What, is that bad?”
“Oh…um, no… it’s fine.” It’s not, though. I hop out of bed and grab my robe. “I’ll…uh, be right back.” Opening the door, I hurry out of our room to the stairwell. Once inside, I take a deep breath and hit the call button. It rings and goes to voicemail, and his deep, enticing voice sends chills down my spine. I quickly hang up.
Think, Hazel. Think, think, think… What did he say? What did I say? I grab at my head, the memories not willing to resurface. Fuck! Why did I drink so much? Did he hear Evan in the background? Did I mention Evan? Fuck! I dial him back, and it goes straight to voicemail.
This time, when it beeps, I leave a message. “Hey, uh…it’s me. I…uh…I’m sorry about last night. I was a little drunk. I… Just call me back.”
I hang up but feel no relief. I tell myself it’s early in the day and that he’s probably busy with work. “I’ll just text him. Everyone has time to text.” I shoot off a message.
Me: I know you’re probably busy. But please call me back when you get a chance.
I add a bunch of heart emojis, then erase them, then add one back, then erase that. “Jesus, what am I doing? This isn’t high school.” I delete them all and press send. I stare at my phone as the message goes through. Three little dots pop up, and I hold my breath, waiting for his reply. The dots disappear. He read my message but didn’t reply.
My heart starts to patter against my chest. I don’t remember anything that happened, but I know I messed up. I panic and call him back, only to leave another voicemail.
“Hey, it’s me again. Listen, I’m sorry. I’m not sure what was said, but I swear, I didn’t do anything. I’m being good. Obeying your rules. Whatever those are. You can’t just tell me I belong to you and blow me off. I don’t even know what that means. Just call me.”
I hang up, feeling even worse. Maybe he’s in a meeting, and he can’t reply. I take a deep breath and walk back to my room. Thankfully, Violet isn’t there. I grab my shower stuff, hoping a hot shower will make me feel better. It doesn’t. When I check my phone, there’s still nothing.
Just when I thought he was going to accept me, I go and fuck it up. I could have acted like a complete fool.
With each second, minute, and hour that passes, I become more anxious. A storm of what-ifs brews inside my head, and it becomes too painful to weather.
I work out. I study. I clean our room twice over, and still, the silence is tearing at me. My mind keeps turning on me, the worst possible scenario floating in my head. Tears burn my eyes. “Shit. Don’t do this.” The sun starts to go down, and I realize I’ve spent the last hour pacing my room like a caged animal. When I can’t take the silent treatment any longer, I become desperate and call my dad.
“Hey, baby girl. To what do I owe the pleasure?”
“Hi, Daddy. Nothing, just bored. Curious what you’re up to.” And possibly stalking your best friend.
“Nothing exciting. Gabe, a lady friend of his, and I are headed out to a late dinner. Probably catch a drink, then home. You?”
I don’t even hear his question. My ears are ringing. Lady friend. Lady friend. Lady friend. “Hazel, you still there?”
“Um, yeah. Enjoy your night. I gotta go.” I hang up and squeeze my eyes shut, fighting back the tears. That bastard is playing around with me while he’s out getting his rocks off. He doesn’t even care about me or my feelings. I truly am just a toy to him. “Bastard!” I slam my fists on my desk.
I know I’m not thinking clearly. Impulse takes the wheel and tells my logic to shut the hell up. Before I truly realize what I’m doing, I leave a note for Violet. I tell her that I’m sleeping at another dorm, and I’m on the highway headed home. The drive is a blur until finally I’m pulling up to the private club and spot his car outside. Without thinking, I storm in, coming face to face with the same woman from before.
“Excuse me, miss, you can’t—”
“I’m here to see Gabriel Walker.”
I attempt to walk past her, but just like before, she grabs my bicep, halting me. “And if he was expecting you, he would have notified me. I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”
Shoving her arm off me, I debate tackling her. Or screaming bloody murder until I get his attention, wherever he might be. Before I do either, the gentleman from the first night approaches us.
“Is there a problem, Clara?”
“Damien, she’s—”
“A guest of Gabriel’s. Yes. Can I escort you to a private room while Clara here retrieves him?” My chest expands in heavy pants, out and in. I’m unsure what I’m even doing here. The reality of where I’m standing and what I was about to do starts to settle in. “If you could just follow me.” I don’t say another word and walk with him through a private hallway. We take the elevator down, and when it opens, I come face to face with Gabriel. He stands at the exit, his top shirt button open and missing his suitcoat, but wearing a scowl that would scare off the devil himself.
“Ah, just the man we are looking for. You seem to have lost your guest. I was bringing her to you.”
His eyes glare with anger, and I take a step back.
“It seems I have,” he says, his tone calm yet frightening. He reaches out and claims my arm. I debate on grabbing for Damien and begging him not to leave me with him. This was a mistake.
“I shall see to it you have your privacy,” he ensures Gabriel, then reenters the elevator, allowing the doors to shut behind me.