Page 98 of Dirty Roulette
A keyboard clicks in the background. “What’s her name?” The phone shuffles.
“Charlotte Henderson.” Typing continues, and she breathes on the phone, huffing. She’s reading names in a whisper. The dreadplummets to the pit of my stomach. The voice in my head telling me she wasn’t there.
“Yeah, no one has checked in with that name, sir.”
“Okay...”
“I’m sorry. Is there anything else I can do for you?”
“Are there any other hospitals or any other medical facilities she might have gone to for an emergency?”
“We are the only hospital in a fifty-mile radius.”
“Right... yeah.”
“Is everything okay? Would you like me to connect you to law enforcement?”
Jared gives me the look, nodding his head, but I dismiss him. “No... It’s fine. Thanks...” I hang up the phone.
“FUCK!” I bellow out, slamming my head into the back seat. “Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!”
Chapter thirty-five
Payton
It took me a hot minute to speed walk to the computer lab. I use my bottom to push open the door as I pin heavy books to my chest. I’ve collected dust bunnies rotting in the dorm room the past few days. Lonely has a pretty depressing definition and I’ve met it. Charlie hasn’t shown up once, she’s ignored my calls and every text I’ve sent. I figured the mean bitchy ones I sent would have the wheels turning in her head, and she’d have some smart-ass remark but no. Nothing. After Ryder told me it was over, he’s a stranger too. So I’m alone, and one more second with only ringing in my ears from the silence is going to cause me to lose it.
I huff looking at the rules written in red expo marker.
First, shut the hell up before coming in. Second, sign in. My books plop to the counter and I grab the pen attached to a clipboard with a rubber band as a string and sign in. Next, find one of the obese computers with diabetes. Rule four, which is my own personal one, hands must stay on the keyboard. Don’t touch anything underneaththe desks. Trash cans don’t exist, and I’m not about to touch a fresh piece of gum leftovers.
Comic Book guy sits back in his whirling chair, flipping through his Wolverine goodness. His belly button is poking out of his tight shirt, and he digs a finger into it. Brown hair is pulled back into a ponytail, and he reminds me of that one guy in the Simpsons.
I plop down at a spot in the back of the room and type in my login information, then slip my backpack over my shoulder and drop it to the floor. I’ve lived about a hundred years watching the loading sign spin in circles.
Two linemen stroll in. I recognize them from practice. When they get closer, Dirty Roulette flashes in my eyes. It’s one of the Chads. He spins a football wearing a jean jacket and working the natural curls of his hair to pull off the bad boy aura. His friend is the Alpaca, with a curly mop of hair along neck, and an elongated face. The guy seems lazy, like he woke up late and dived into the clothes of his dirty hamper.
Chad sits directly next to me, his smile cocky, and his eyelids droop like he’s doped up. He reeks of a bad hangover and musty weed with a hint of aftershave.
Alpaca sits by the computer on the opposite side of mine. They snicker with one another and throw eyebrow cues.
I stare at my phone, debating if I should message someone or bury my feelings in a grave full of thorns. I swallow the hunger to make shit worse and shove the phone in my jean pocket.
“Psst...” One of them says. I turn to Chad next to me, but he clicks the mouse and stares blankly at the computer. He’s not even logging in. I don’t think he needs the computer. He looks over in my direction, dips his head back, and says, “Hey girl... what’s up?” He slides his chair next to me, his arm glides over myshoulder.
“Psst...” I swing my head around and Alpaca rolls his chair right up behind me. “You’re cute...” he says and coils his fingers around a strand of my hair.
“What the hell...” I pull gently on my hair, watching it slide out of his grip and push it behind my back. “Don’t touch me.”
His minty breath burns a hole in my lungs. “I know you. You’re Charlie’s friend, right? And you Cheer too, huh?” he asks and pulls out his cell phone. His thumb scrolls for a quick second and flips the screen to me. It’s the nudes Brody took of me. Then the video of me kissing Ryder with nothing on. The feelings enveloping me are equivalent to Carrie getting doused in pig's blood.
“Umm... yeah.” I push the phone away, but the damage was done. A cement block was thrown right on top of me. I shake off Chad’s grip and swivel back to my computer.
“You look pretty damn hot.” He chuckles. I stare at the screen, watching the outline of his actions through the reflection. “I bet I can show you a good time.”
Maybe today wasn’t the day to come out of the dorm room. I stand up, but Chad grabs me by the wrist. He twists me around, and I’m sitting in his lap like a little kid. He smells my hair, and his breath makes my ears sweat. “We hear you like it rough.”
“And you’re pretty easy,” Alpaca whispers. It’s like he slithered his tongue inside my ear and millions of spiders started crawling all over my skin.
