Page 65 of The Black Table
Could it be true? I don’t know where Gwenna’s from, or Elena—just that Elena came here on a swimming scholarship, a late add to the team. That’s what Callahan told me. Burn scars—I’ve never seen Gwenna’s arms. I barely know anything about her, beyond that she’s brilliant in French and has my entire heart in a chokehold without even knowing it.
Elena seems to have calmed down. She drains her beer with theatrical primness, sets the glass down, and slides out of the booth. “ So go save her if you want,” she says as she brushes past me. “But don’t be surprised if she burns you to the fucking ground.” She leaves, leaving only the flickering candle behind her as her friends scramble to follow.
I stand alone, the music and laughter rising around me like a taunt, the normalcy of everyone else’s lives carouseling around me. I have to go back.
I barely mark crossing campus this time, only regaining consciousness when I’m back in Camlann House. Rush through the door, to the couch, to her?—
But she’s not alone in here.
“What the fuck is going on, Lanz?”
SEVENTEEN
KAI
Figures.Fucking figures. I step outside for one measly smoke break and suddenly there’s an unconscious girl on our couch.
Lanz gapes at me, looking somehow stupefied and keyed-up all at once. “I…she…”
“Yeah, go ahead,” I say. “Explain. I’mrealllllylooking forward tothislittle tale.”
Between us, Gwenna lies loosely on the couch cushions, asleep—I think—but breathing, definitely breathing, and unless her blood pressure has dropped precipitously since I checked her pulse two minutes ago, she’s definitely alive. There’s a slight dark circle on the pillow under her cheek—sweating? crying? I have no idea—but she doesn’t seem like she’s in active danger.
Not sure I can say the same for Lanz, though.
“I was just…I was out on campus, and she ran into me, and she…she passed out,” he stammers. “So I picked her up, and?—”
“And you’re just gonna let her sleep down here?” I finish for him.
“You wanted me to just barge into an all-female dorm with an unconscious girl in my arms?” he cries.
I see. He has a point there. But still…
“What are we going to do with her?” I ask. “Did you think that through? No, of course you didn’t,” I answer my own question. “You didn’t think any of this through. So I’m going to have to fuckin’fixit for you.”
I sidestep to the couch and kneel down, weight in my heels, and slide one arm under her shoulders, the other under her knees. She’s not exactly dainty, but I’m strong, so.
On an exhale, I hoist her up.
Lanz’s eyes go even wider. “What are you?—”
“What’s going on?”
I jump, but it’s just him—Callahan—coming down the stairs. Takes one look at Gwenna in my arms and Lanz’s burgeoning freakout and raisesbotheyebrows—maybe the most expression I’ve ever seen out of the guy.
“Oh, you know,” I say breezily—or breezily as I can, holding an unconscious coed in a designer dress. “Just shooting the shit.”
Callahan stares. “Is she…”
“She’s fine,” Lanz says quickly. “Or she will be. She just…” He runs a hand through his hair. “She needs a place to sleep.”
“As I’ve beensaying,” I enunciate, sagging under her weight for effect. “Can you fuckin’ strategize here, please? Where am I putting her?”
Cal and Lanz look at each other. Then at me.
“My room?” I say. “Absolutely not.” Many reasons for that, of course. But I go with the innocent one. “It’s filthy. I haven’t washed my sheets in?—”
“I’ll take her,” Lanz says hurriedly. “I mean…” His face flushes. “She can have my room. I’ll…” He glances at Cal.
