Wildfire

Chapter 10

10. Drink

Darren called a taxi while I changed into something more appropriate for clubbing. Darren had wanted to drive, but given the unstable mood he was in, I put my foot down and patently refused to get into a vehicle he intended to drive. Despite all evidence to the contrary, I didn't have a death wish.

Finding something to wear was simple enough; my wardrobe was woefully limited and the only thing remotely dressy enough was the smallish, tight black dress that I'd bought for my birthday dinner in December. It was a little on the short side, which wouldn't have bothered me too much except I was out of pantyhose and it was like, fourteen degrees outside.

I paired the dress with a pair of black, suede boots and a silver jacket, leaving my hair loose around my shoulders. I didn't have time to do anything with it; I could hear Darren pacing around my room through the thin walls in the bathroom, growing more agitated by the second.

My own nerves were frayed, but given the week I was having, that wasn't exactly surprising. I took a deep breath before I pushed open the bathroom door, forcing myself to retain some level of composure. One of us needed to be thinking straight.

"Did you call?" I asked.

Darren dropped into my desk chair, his legs sprawled out in opposite directions. He looked exhausted. "Yep."

"And you know where we're going?" I pressed.

"Gotta pick up something first." He glanced up, his eyes narrowing slightly as they roved over my outfit. "You know, if your personality wasn't so repulsive, you might actually be hot."

Normally, receiving compliments – even backhanded ones – from guys made me feel uncomfortable, but coming from Darren, all they inspired was mild annoyance. I just rolled my eyes and grabbed my handbag from the end of the bed, checking inconspicuously to make sure my purse was still intact.

"C'mon, we'll wait downstairs."

I pulled open the door to the dorm, gesturing for Darren to step out first. He was like a dark shadow, skulking down the hallway, glaring down at anybody who dared pass him as he made his way toward the stairwell. I trailed along behind him with my arms folded, wishing like hell that Lexie would grow some common sense when it came to guys.

I perched on the edge of one of the old, threadbare sofas in the lobby. There were still a few students milling around at this time of night, some of them arriving back from the library and others venturing outside in club-wear. A few of them glanced at Darren and I warily, giving us a wide berth as they traversed the space between the stairwell and the front doors.

Their reaction had nothing to do with me and everything to do with the boy standing beside me, his hands twitching as he fidgeted and glowered at the doors. I had a funny feeling that his antsy behaviour had more to do with drug withdrawals than worry for Lexie, and for the millionth time in the space of twenty minutes, I felt a spasm of panic squeeze my chest.

This is such a bad idea.

If I hadn't been so worried about Lexie, I would have pushed myself up off the couch and marched myself back upstairs – and possibly barricaded the door for good measure.

"Taxi's here."

I jerked my head toward the door, and sure enough, there was a fresh set of headlights illuminating the parking lot outside. I followed Darren out into the icy, night air, hugging my jacket close around me. We slid into the back of the taxi and when Darren's knee brushed against mine, I was almost grateful for the impression of warmth that it left on my bare skin.