Page 2 of Even Exchange

Hey. Your prick boyfriend wasn’t going to come, and I didn’t want you to be alone. So here I am.

We sit in silence, nothing but the—Oh fuck. She’s doing it again.

I gather her brunette hair together, but it’s a lost cause. This little disco ball needs a shower. Stat. My eyes drop to the pinkish linoleum stained with dirt, the remnants of spilled cocktails, and who knows what else. A shudder racks through me. On second thought, I need a shower myself. Immediately.

“Jonathan,” Charlotte groans, and I freeze. “Take me home.”

She thinks I’m her shitbag boyfriend. Of course she does. Because heshouldbe the one here making sure she’s okay. Not me. Not the guy who’s barely spoken to her—but been obsessed—since her arrival at Camp Dickson this past summer.

Charlotte was new. I’d never noticed her before. Not around Crystal Bay University, and certainly not around the training camp. I was halfway to asking her name when Mr. Fuck Face came up, scooping her into his arms. It was clear she was taken.

But that was fine. I didn’t need the distraction.

“Please?” she adds, and her tone alone makesmesick.

I clear my throat. “I’d be happy t?—”

Her gaze jerks toward mine, brown eyes wide. “Noah?” Her hands fly to her hair as she brushes through it, peering down at herself. “I’m sorry I?—”

“Don’t apologize,” I interrupt.

“Honestly,” she slurs, releasing a slow, shaky exhale, hands dropping to her lap. “I don’t care.” She scoots back, leaning against the wall beside the toilet. “But I wanna go. Can you get Jonathan?”

Fuck no.“Okay.”

Reluctantly, I exit the bathroom in search of him, hands only unclenching when I realize he’s nowhere in sight. Elijah and his girlfriend Sophia, who’s one of Charlotte’s best friends, are near the bar, faces flustered.

“Where’s Jonathan?” I ask begrudgingly.

“He left,” Sophia supplies with an eye roll.

“Without Charlotte?” I press, not shocked by the news.

“Yep,” she snarks, tipping a glass toward me.

Elijah raises his brows with a shrug. “Trash took itself out.”

“She okay?” Sophia asks, setting her blue drink down on the bar. “I should go check.”

“It’s your birthday,” I remind Sophia. “I’ll make sure she gets home safe.”

“You really don’t mind?” Sophia presses.

“Not at all.”

“Okay.” She smiles gratefully. “Thanks.”

After pulling out my phone, I order an Uber to Charlotte’s place so we can leave as soon as possible.

Estimated arrival: twelve minutes.

“See you,” I tell them and head back to the bathroom.

Charlotte’s shimmering body remains slumped against the wall, her eyes shut. Crouching down, I place a finger under her nose, verifying proof of life, and conclude she’s utterly wasted. After sliding an arm around her back and another under her legs, I lift her off the ground.

Please don’t puke on me.

When I nudge the stall door fully open, she awakens slightly, nuzzling her face into my chest.I’ve got you.I ignore the onlookers all the way to the Uber.

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