Tate's gone. He just vanished, literally, like he was never there. Did I imagine him? No, I couldn't just make up someone like him. My head is foggy, I don't remember anything past the boy dumping liquid into my mouth. The only memories I recall are lights of many colors lighting up the dance floor. Wet, hot bodies pressed up against one another, I hope one of those bodies were Tate's. And thick, spicy alcohol sliding down my throat. Dammit, I was drunk. I sit up slowly and hold my head in my hands.
"Hey, Buddy," Kit rushes to my side and hands me a cup of water, "How are you feeling?"
"My head hurts," I cringe, "and I want to see Tate," I take a sip of my water and glance at Kit. He won't look at me, why won't he look at me?
"Tate left, Kyle," my heart drops into my stomach. So, I didn't conjure him up in my mind, but he's gone.
"I'm sorry," he claps my shoulder, "He really wanted to stay, but," he doesn't complete his thought.
"He what? He what, Kit? What are you not telling me?" I jump out of the bed, too fast. My head get's foggy again and I sit down.
"He had to leave, Kyle," I gave him a look, a look that said why? "He just, he had to, okay?" Kit paces the room.
"Kit," I shake my head, "You can tell me anything, please tell me," I'm begging at this point.
"You should go see him, he really wanted to talk to you."
"Why do I have to go see him? Why can't he come here?"
He gives me a hard stare, "Trust me, Kyle. If he could be here right now, he would," I trust Kit.
"Okay," I stand, "Where is he?"
"Los Angeles," he sucks in a big breath, "the Murder House."
YOU ARE READING
Romantic Diversity
RomanceAs Kyle Spencer get's used to life with his girlfriend, Zoe Benson, and new found friend, Kit Walker, Kyle starts experiencing weird sexual changes. But when the mysterious Tate Langdon shows up one day, Kyle hates him right away and Tate hates him...
