13. What Would Happen?

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I wait until Tara enters her apartment building and head home. My boots slap against the wet asphalt. It must've rained while we were at The Hideway, and I didn't even notice.

I don't know why I took her there or walked her home. It's been the most confusing day ever, but what scares me is that I enjoyed it. I relaxed.

I almost forgot, and I hate myself for it.

For the rest of the walk, I keep my eyes glued to the pavement beneath my feet and try to think about something else, like the stupid Halloween party I'm only going to because of the guys or my exams.

When my building comes into view, I glance up at the windows. The light is on in Brian's room. It's a surprise - I haven't seen him much lately despite being his roommate. If I didn't know him, I'd probably think he was up to something shady because of the time he spends out doing stuff I have no clue about.

Judgmental asshole.

Is that who I am? Probably.

I let myself into the foyer and take the stairs instead of calling the elevator. Getting exhausted is the only way to sleep through the night, and the hike wasn't nearly enough. If anything, it made me more restless.

I unlock the apartment and kick off my boots by the front door, dropping my backpack next to them.

Brian is sitting on the couch, reading a textbook. He slams it shut as soon as he sees me in the living room doorway. "What's up?"

"You can keep reading." I chuckle.

"I'm done with it." Brian stretches, yawning. "How was the hike? I thought you'd be back earlier."

"I had dinner downtown on my way back."

He taps his fingers on his knee. "That explains it."

"That explains what? What do you mean?"

"Elena was here half an hour ago," Brian says. "I thought it was weird, and I told her I had no idea where you were."

She came looking for me just because Tara and I left the bus together? How insane is that? "Did she say what the fuck she wanted?" I ask.

"Quoting my friend Mackenzie, probably to fuck you goodnight. I don't know, man. She seems desperate."

Desperate or downright creepy. What am I supposed to do now? I was rude. I told her I didn't want her, and she keeps acting as if none of those things had happened. Irritation and unease with a decent amount of regret make a disgusting mixture I'd rather not swallow.

But I don't have a choice. Elena's actions shove it down my throat.

♡♡♡

That Elena will be at the Halloween party quickly becomes the main reason I don't want to go. I would lie about not feeling well, but something tells me she might stop by my place again if I choose to stay home.

Brian is too relaxed after the weekend he spent with Leah to notice my shitty mood. Better this way. I'd rather not ruin the party for him.

When we arrive at the frat house, it's wall-to-wall with people, and we only spot Drew because he's a giant who towers over everyone. He should've played basketball, but unlike me, he doesn't like it one bit.

I can barely hear what Brian says over the rap blasting from the speakers. I hope they mix things up because listening to the same shit at every party is tiring as hell.

"Hey." Drew fist-bumps me. "What's up?"

"I didn't think so many people would be here, man," I say. What I think but don't verbalize is that I hope the crowd is dense enough for Elena not to spot me.

"Blame the midterms." Drew shrugs. "Everyone's fed up with studying. By the way, have you seen the baby girl?"

It takes me a solid five seconds to realize he means Tara, and my gut twists. Why the hell is he using that nickname?

I play dumb and put on a blank face. Evans doesn't even pay attention; he just scans the crowd and grins.

"Forget about it. There she is."

Tara is walking toward us with Leah by her side. She chose to dress up like a devil. The red suit clings to every curve, showcasing how fit she is, and my jaw clenches.

What the hell is wrong with me? I don't care what she wears. I shouldn't even look at her.

"Wow." Drew squeezes her in a hug, and she lets out a stupid laugh.

I need a drink. A fucking big one, so I stuff my balled fists into the pockets of my lab coat and dart to the kitchen.

My eyes rove over the display of bottles on the table, looking for something strong, but most of them are already empty. Whoever was in charge of buying booze clearly underestimated the drinking habits of the student body. Heaving a sigh, I grab an unopened beer and lean against the counter.

Drew walks in, whistling. His gaze snaps to me, and he raises his brows. "Beer?"

"There's nothing left," I say.

He wiggles his brows and opens a cabinet behind me. Of course, he'd know there was whiskey in there.

"Connor said there would be a bottle here," Evans says. "Want some?"

"Pass."

He eyes me. "Grouchy much?"

I want to tell him to fuck off, but Brian and Leah enter the room, and Tara follows suit.

Baby girl.

Devil suits her more.

"Get me a drink, please, Basti," she says, pouting.

Can't she ask her baby boy? Barbie must be delusional if she thinks I'll give her anything.

Leah giggles. Do I look like a fucking joke? I roll my eyes and go on sipping the warm beer. It's disgusting like everything at this shindig.

"Bad, bad boy."

Something digs into my ass, and I jump, my eyes landing on the pitchfork in Tara's hands.

"What the hell, Barbie." I rub my behind. "That shit's sharp."

"Sharpened it for you. What are you doing here? Your little angel has been looking for you everywhere. I almost felt pity." Drew's baby girl bats her stupid lashes at me and pokes me in the ribs. "Almost, but not quite, Basti."

I groan, pushing off the counter, and bolt out of the kitchen.

The same shitty song rattles the walls in the living room. How many times will they play it? I leave my half-empty bottle on a random end table and head toward the front door. I need some fucking air, especially because Elena appears in my peripheral vision, wearing an angel costume.

Glancing over my shoulder, I make sure she didn't see me and slip out of the house.

I should've stayed at home. Why the hell did I let the guys talk me into coming here?
Evans would've had fun with his baby girl anyway.

I circle the frat house and sit on a bench, hidden from view by a few trees.

As I light a joint, my phone vibrates with a text.

Elena: Where are you?

My temples throb from her insistence and the lack of sleep, and I inhale the smoke, hoping it'll make me feel better, if only temporarily.

I'm over this party. I'm fed up with everything at this point.

The wind blows, and I close my eyes as it moves my hair out of my forehead.

I need a haircut.

Taking another lungful of the drug, I let it do its job.

Elena who? Baby girl who?

Fuck them. Fuck everyone.

Footsteps thump, and I stifle a groan. Lucky for me, it's not Elena, but the guy approaching the bench isn't someone I want to see, either.

Evans walks up to me, and Brian is right behind him.

"Want some?" I offer the joint to my roommate.

"I'm good," he says, lowering himself onto the bench by my side.

"Why did you leave the party?" Evans has the audacity to ask. "If it's about Tara, you know she was kidding."

So, she's Tara now. "It has zero to do with her. I didn't want Elena to see me."

"Trouble in paradise?" Evans smirks.

I want to punch him. Right now, I don't even remember why the fuck we're friends. And for some weird reason, I want to make sure Evans knows Elena and I aren't a thing.

"Nothing's going on between us other than casual hookups, but now she's annoying the crap out of me, following me everywhere and trying to stake a claim or some shit. I'm fed up with it," I say.

"You don't kiss casual hookups in college hallways," Brian tells me. "Maybe you need to make sure she knows it's casual."

Thanks, man. More salt for that wound, please. And while you're at it, pour me some tequila.

"I might have to." I toss the joint onto the ground and stub it out with my boot. "Let's go back in there."

I'd rather go home, but Brian and I came here together. As pissed as I am at the whole fucking universe, I don't want to spoil the night for him. His course load is so crazy he probably schedules fucking, too. He deserves to let loose.

Inside, we dodge the mass of sweaty bodies to get to the back of the room. Brian swivels his head, looking for Leah. When he sees her, he stalks off in her direction, and I lean against the wall, arms crossed.

Tara is dancing in the middle of the makeshift dancefloor. Her long blond hair is loose, bouncing as she moves to the music, swaying her hips. She's oblivious to everything - the stares, the murmurs, even the glares.

The melody slows, and our eyes meet.

The air bristles with tension, or maybe it's my misplaced frustration. She holds my gaze, and a strange urge to do something overtakes me.

We could dance. I could just take her hand and jostle her into me. Fuck, why not? Nothing's stopping me.

Except for the realization that I'm having these thoughts sober. And her baby boy wraps his arms around her from behind and says something in her ear.

I look elsewhere. At the couple making out in the corner. The guys laughing at something, blocking the entrance to the kitchen.

A couple of crappy songs later, I spot Brian dancing with his girlfriend and tap my finger on my watch.

He nods. Leah waves at Tara, and the two of them follow Brian and me outside. The cab is waiting for the girls, but my roommate and I choose to walk.

I say nothing on the way home, and as soon as the apartment door closes, I head to my room.

Brian clears his throat. "Bast. We need to talk."

I stop midstep. "If it's about Barbie or Elena-"

"No," he says. "Not really."

I call bullshit but sit next to him on the couch anyway. Come to think of it, it probably has something to do with his mysterious whereabouts.

Brian steeples his hands together on his knees, and the alarms go off in my head.

"I got a place for Leah and me."

I expected anything, but not this. What the hell? He knows I can't afford to pay for the apartment alone. He must've been planning it for a while, and he chooses to tell me now? My jaw clenches. "You're kidding me," I say. "Man, when I said I needed a roommate, I meant I needed someone to be here the whole year, not a dude who would bail after what? Two fucking months?"

"I know, and I'm sorry, but Leah and I came up with a solution."

"Looking for a roommate in November is pointless, and you know it. Can you at least wait till January?"

I'd have to find more clients, but it might be easier closer to the holidays. Easier than now, anyway.

"Leah doesn't want to let Tara down, either." Brian goes on. "The two of you could share this apartment. She's a girl, and you won't have problems with cooking or tidiness. Leah says Tara's a very good roommate."

My jaw unhinges and hits the floor. Fuck, I think I hear the thud. "Are you high or something? Didn't you notice we don't exactly like each other? She hates me."

And I don't want her near me. Not after tonight.

"Does she? She wouldn't have taken your drunk ass home if she hated you, man."

This time, what I feel is the pounding of my heart and the pulsing of blood in my temples. "She what?"

"She found you walking along the highway and took you home. You never asked me what happened. I assumed you were too embarrassed to talk about it."

Elena lied. She used my vulnerability against me, and of course, I was stupid enough to believe her. I wish I'd talked to Brian sooner instead of avoiding him so he wouldn't ask questions.

"Fucking bitch," I say through gritted teeth.

"I don't think she deserves that name."

"Not Tara. Elena. She said she found me, and I believed her. But it changes nothing, man. I still don't want Tara here."

It's the worst idea he could've come up with. Why can't he see that?

Brian huffs and gets up from the couch. "For starters, Tara's the one who needs to be convinced. She doesn't need money; you do. As much as I like rooming with you, my decision is definite. Leah and I wasted too much time being apart. We're both ready to take the next step. Think about it, but I really think you both will benefit from the arrangement."

He's right. Not about Tara, but everything else. Mom is still unemployed. Looking for another place or roommate will take my focus off my studies, and I can't afford to fail anything. Plus, my apartment is great.

But one problem is way bigger than the others.

"Will she even want to live here?" I ask Brian when he's almost in his room.

"Maybe not," he says. "But she didn't want us to tell you she found you. Maybe it's time you stopped that childish shit and tried to be civil with each other."

Maybe.

But what would happen then?

Oops.

Brian, how could you?

What do you think will happen? For those who got that ship sailing in the previous chapter, I'm sorry. Both Bast and Tara have more issues than Vogue, Cosmopolitan, and New York Times together. It'd be too easy, and we don't do that here.

I can't stop writing the dang thing. What's wrong with me?

P.S. hope it was okay

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