Page 90 of Game Plan

I closed my eyes. This was bad. Very, very bad. There were so many things I wished to unsee.

The guy who was standing glared at me. He looked familiar, but I couldn’t place him. Was he in one of my classes or a regular at Lola’s? With his unshaven jaw and the beanie hat covering most of his head, I really couldn’t figure out his identity. Not that I wanted to, anyway. I prayed to never see him again.

The guy on his knees moved to stand, but the other one pushed him down, keeping his hand on his head like he was in charge.

Please, brain, don’t let me be haunted for life.

I hurried away and heard a string of curse words as I shoved my stuff into my book bag and rushed down the stairs. My paper would have to wait. Unsolicited images danced in my head. No way would I be able to write anything right now.

Taking my phone out, I texted my roommate.

Me

Are you done? I’ll wait for you at the dining hall. On my way now. See you in a bit.

I didn’t wait for her reply. I stored my phone back in my bag, zipped my jacket up, and made my way outside. Once the fresh evening air hit my lungs, it dissipated some of the discomfort swirling inside me.

“Please, let me never come face to face with these guys ever again.”

Two girls walked past me and watched me with a weird expression as I talked to myself out loud.

I breathed out.

I couldn’t wait to tell someone about what I’d just witnessed. If only to delete the images from my brain.

I emptied the tray in the middle of the table and refilled the glasses with water. “Can I bring you anything else?” I asked the three people sitting around the table. I recognized the dark-skinned one as a guy in my Intro to Comm class.

“All good. Thanks.”

I gave him a curt nod. “I’ll come check on you later then.”

I walked to another table to bring them their check and got stopped by a girl asking me about tonight’s specials. When I turned, someone spilled their soda all over my hands.

I retreated to the back to wash my hands in the staff restroom. When I returned, a guy I hadn’t seen in weeks stood before me in the small hallway, glaring at me.

I circled him, but he sidestepped to his left, blocking my escape.

“Excuse me, I need to get back out there.”

He clenched his jaw. “I don’t think so.”

I watched him watching me, not sure if he was playing a game or not. I let out a small laugh. “Please move aside. I have tables to serve.”

He stayed glued to the floor, his face a mask of fury.

“Can I help you with something? Are you hungry? Lost? Looking for someone?”

“I’m here to make sure you keep your fucking mouth shut, ma jolie.”

“My mouth shut?”

“Don’t play dumb. I know it was you, and I won’t let you badmouth me once again and invent stories about stuff that never happened just to make you seem interesting to anyone stupid enough to listen to you.”

I blinked. And then it hit me.

The library incident.

Evan Nichols. Mason’s teammate. The one who had acted like a pig the night Mason and I reconnected for the first time. Shit. He had been the one getting his dick sucked earlier. He was clean-shaven now and looked very different from the scruffy guy I’d seen in the library, of all places.