Chapter 7

Alessia stayed up late that night with Lana who produced a small metal flask after she returned her to her cell and immediately chugged it back before passing it to Alessia through the bars. Alessia hesitated, eying the camera in the corner.

“Is that smart?”

“It’s absolutely never smart to drink alcohol,” Lana said. “It’s a depressant drug, it dehydrates, and it weakens the immune system. But where would human society be without it?”

“I mean the cameras.”

“James conveniently leaves watching that crap up to myself and a few others.”

“And let me guess, everyone’s in on your strange little game you’re playing.”

“Correct, my dear. Now take a drink. You’re making me feel self-conscious.”

Alessia hesitated for just one more moment before Lana delivered a severe glare and she took the bottle. She took a sniff. She was never much good at distinguishing liquor from each other by smell. It was all pure, eye-burning alcohol as far as she was concerned.

“Jesus, it’s whiskey not arsenic or should I get the poison tester, your highness?” Lana asked in a groan and finally Alessia tipped the flask back and into her mouth.

She took in a lot more than she meant to. She swallowed a good portion of it before she was forced to cough the rest back up and out of her mouth as the fumes alone were too much to handle and the sharp, cutting flavor hit her tongue with a vengeance. Lana rolled her eyes and watched the coughing fit with crossed arms and little interest.

Eventually, with several coughs and aggressive throat clearings, Alessia got a hold of her breathing and swallowed once more. She passed the flask back to Lana with a cringe. She took it and had another sip, smooth and simple with a hint of discomfort. Alessia thought people only drank that way in movies because it was always a bottle filled with water or iced tea. But there was Lana, taking it in like it might have been her grandmother’s lemonade.

“Don’t feel bad,” Lana said. “I’ve got a bit of an immunity to burning sensations.”

“Can you get drunk?”

“Oh, yes. That’s the plan.”

She poured back more of the drink and handed it to Alessia who took a small, more measured sip. She avoided coughing most of it back up but didn’t exactly get it down without a look of utter discomfort. He didn’t understand why people forced themselves to pretend they liked this stuff. Well, maybe someone like Lana did. She had that sort of ironclad exterior that seemed like taking down shots of hard liquor might as well have been orange juice.

“What’s the occasion?” Alessia asked.

“The occasion is I’m probably a functioning alcoholic, but I figured we’re at the point where I can turn you into a partner in crime of sorts,” she said.

If this was some bid for Stockholm Syndrome, it was the strangest and most involved that Alessia had ever imagined. She took the flask as it was passed back to her; by the end of her sip, she felt the effects, the way her limbs were a little bit looser and her skin buzzed.

“So, what’s the deal then with you and professor stuffy?” Lana asked. “You two actually a thing or was that just the kinkiest booty call in history?”

Alessia went red but the numbness on her skin became too much to focus on to be overly embarrassed. She shook her head. “It was building. We’re not together or anything—”

“But you want to be.”

“Playing the most fucked-up version of house inside a prison cell for the past few weeks hasn’t exactly been the best place to try to explore our relationship options,” Alessia said.

“So, what is it about him? Is it the muscles? The bad boy image? The forbidden fruit of a professor?” Lana asked with a smirk and a tip of the emptying flask.

What was it about Drake? It was one of those things where she never sat down to think about why it was she liked someone, why she felt attached to him. Certainly, with little crushes she could say someone was handsome or smart or had a good sense of humor. Alessia wouldn’t say that Drake excelled in any of those departments. And he pissed her off more often than he didn’t

But something drew her in. Maybe it was the red string of fate like the Japanese said or all those frilly quotations about soulmates. She didn’t have to like someone to love them—not that she loved him. They weren’t there yet. But he occupied her thoughts so constantly she knew it was more than a crush; it had to be more than just lust. Especially since she’d slept with him, she got it out of her system, and she still managed to find herself wanting more. Even if it was just his arms holding her, she liked the idea of having him near her, the smell of him on her.

“Jesus, I didn’t mean to make you flashback down romantic memory lane,” Lana said when she didn’t answer for a long time. “I don’t really care all that much.”

“Why does anyone like anyone?” Alessia finally said.

“Oh fuck, I’m cutting you off. You’re at poetic drunk level.”

“No. I just mean I think that’s why you know you like someone, right?” Alessia said. She was certainly rambling and the contents of the flask were the cause of that, she was sure, but she felt as though she was moving towards something profound. “Like, I could look at Erik and say I think the annoying way he plays devil’s advocate is endearing—”

“So, there was some Erik action for you then,” Lana said with a smirk and a little too much excitement.

“Can you shush?” Alessia said, stumbling forward a little bit to place a finger over her lips. “As I was saying. I can list all the qualities about Erik that I like and that sort of draw me to him. But I can’t list a single one for Drake.”

“And that’s supposed to be a good thing?”

“I still want him and I can’t pick out a formula of why. That means it’s spiritual and that it matters,” Alessia said.

“If you say so.”

Lana went back to rolling her eyes and throwing back her flask. Alessia knew she was right though. It was like a personal revelation for herself as well. She hadn’t seriously been considering Erik as an option, despite Lana’s teasing. They worked well together and recently he’d been on her good side more than he ever had been before. But that didn’t make them bedfellows or anything like that.

Drake was a constant presence in her mind while Erik was a few blips of bright light that occasionally stole all her attention. It was interesting while it was there, but there was a bigger prize for her to focus on. She just needed some time alone with Drake. They’d been nothing but nonstop for weeks now and even while they were still at the college, their relationship hadn’t had time to breathe. It was a lot of tension just begging to boil over.

“Well, time’s up for figuring out your shit, princess,” Lana said. “You jailbirds are going free tomorrow.”

“What?” That woke Alessia up out of her trance very quickly. “What’s happening?”

“It works better if you don’t know,” Lana said. “Or it hopefully will. Who knows? Maybe we’ll all be dead by this time tomorrow.”

“Is that what the drink is for?”

“There’s only one way to face the end of the world.”

Alessia didn’t get any sleep after that. A mixture of alcohol swimming in her head and the anxiety that Lana had placed there. The plan was happening, whatever strange plan it was. Alessia wondered how the pieces would fit together in it all, she couldn’t see the grand design—if there was one—of whatever it was Lana tried to create for their great escape and revenge against James.

Alessia, Erik, and Drake were pawns. That much was clear. She would be moved across this board however Lana and her cronies decided. Hell, they might even end up killing her at the end of all the action. But that didn’t mean she wouldn’t at least fight for herself.

She’d gotten this far in life, she was working on her doctorate, she wore down Drake, she managed to find him. She wasn’t nothing. These weren’t some earth-shattering achievements like Joan of Arc or Elizabeth II but for her, it meant that they built her into the woman she was now. She was an adult, she had a good head on her shoulders, and knew one thing—she didn’t want to die.

So, whatever happened, she was getting out alive to call her mother and eat an entire pint of ice cream and then maybe run for president one day. The possibilities were endless. She just had to get out of this prison hellhole first.