CHAPTER THREE
Quinn
house was spotless when we returned from the cemetery. Even the funeral flowers had been removed. White roses replaced the normal vases of cut flowers my mother ordered, but that was the only change. It was as if nothing had happened.
I went to change clothes and then came back down to join my parents. They seemed confused.
"Oh, Quinn, you startled me," my mother said. She and my father sat in their normal spots in the living room. My father was reading and my mother was watching a raucous reality television show.
He put his book down, and my mother paused the television. The same heavy expression they had worn all day returned. If I had not reappeared, they could have convinced themselves both daughters were at UCLA and all was as it should be. I was an unwelcome reminder that Sienna was gone.
"I was just coming to say goodnight," I said.
"It’s only 8 pm," my father said.
"I'm just really tired," I rubbed my forehead.
"Sienna says studying before bed is a good idea because your mind works on what you learned all night," my mother told me.
"Yes, good idea," I said. I did not tell them I had left all my study material at school.
Upstairs again, the weight overtook me. I sank to the floor next to my bed. Sienna was gone and I could just as easily disappear. In fact, I slipped out of my parents' lives just by leaving the room. I could just leave and they would never even notice. Where would I go and what would I do?
I knew, but I was not ready to think about it.
I must have been sitting there for nearly an hour when the phone rang. "Hello?"
"Quinn, I had to call. How are you?"
"Darla? Hi. I don't know. I survived," I said. I pulled myself off the floor and wandered around the room as we talked. "How are things on campus?"
"Crazy. There were about a dozen memorials for Sienna today. The administration has gone into hyper speed about mental health. I swear to God they would screen us all if they could. There's even talk of a suicide prevention team being formed. They want you to be a part of it. I actually had to explain to them why today was not a good day to call and discuss it," Darla said.
"How am I supposed to come back?" I groaned. "Owen was right, maybe now is a good time to take a break and find out what I really want to do."
"Owen?" Darla asked. "Yes, of course he was at the funeral."
"I hid out in the basement playing video games. He found me and we hung out. It was just like old times."
"Old times like when you had a mad crush on him? Like when he was flirting with you but dating your sister?" Darla asked.
"Exactly," I said.
She sighed. "Well, at least that got a little smile out of you. I heard it."
"I know, I know, but it was really great. He's the only one I can actually talk to around here."
"And it doesn't hurt that he's a 6 foot, blue-eyed, blond that's built like a Norse god," Darla said. "I'd let him comfort me anytime."
"Want to know something weird?" I asked. "My mother was crazy today and trying to place the blame on Owen. While she was ranting at him, she said the strangest thing. She said everyone knew about Owen and me. Sienna even knew how well we got along and she encouraged Owen to hang out with me."
"Well, she did only use him as eye candy," Darla said. "Maybe your sister realized you two share something a little deeper."
"But she still dated him."
"Was your sister ever any good at sharing?" Darla asked. "Sorry."
"No, it's good. Owen and I spent all day listening to memories of Sienna that had passed through a perfecting lens. No one wanted to remember that she was real," I said. I flopped back on my bed. "I don't want my sister to be a saint. I just want to remember my actual sister."
"Oh, Quinn, I'm so sorry. You and Sienna loved each other. Sisters don't always get along, sisters don't always share, and sisters certainly don't take it easy on each other. No one knew her like you."
"Thanks, Darla. I'll be back on campus soon," I said. We said our goodbyes and I hung up.
Darla was right. I knew Sienna better than anyone. And now that I thought about it, she had always talked about Owen and me together. She had talked to me about movies Owen and I would like, stores we should visit, and places we should go. Sometimes she sent us off together while she was busy. At the time I would be embarrassed, thinking she was using Owen to babysit me, but now I wondered.
My thoughts were interrupted by a tap on the window. It was followed by a smattering of clicks, pebbles hitting the glass. I pulled myself off my bed and went to the window. Owen waved from the lawn and pointed to the kitchen door.
It was the way he used to sneak into the house during high school. I turned and tiptoed down to the kitchen to let him in. I warned him not to say a thing. We slipped along the hallway and down the basement to the safety of the old leather sofa.
"What are you doing here?" I asked.
"I wanted to make sure you were okay. I drove to the cemetery. I didn't join everyone at the graveside, but I was there. You didn't look like you were doing too good," Owen said.
I rubbed my forehead again. "It, it was a tough drive there and back."
"Your parents? I figured."
For a moment, I thought he was going to pull me into a hug, but Owen hesitated and I took a step back. Instead, he sat down on the sofa and opened the backpack he had brought with him.
"I realized I still had some things of Sienna's that I thought you might want back," Owen said. He pulled out a dog-eared copy of The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy.
I laughed and took it from him. "This is mine. My favorite book," I said.
Owen smiled. "Yeah, that makes more sense. I remember making Sienna read it before we watched the movie, but she was not into it."
"I remember," I said. "Sienna ended up inviting cheerleaders over and making pep rally signs. She sent me downstairs and you started the movie over so I could watch too."
"Well, here's what else I found," Owen said.
I sifted through the few articles he dumped on the sofa between us. "My constellation map. I wondered where this went."
"Sienna gave it to me after the meteor shower last year," Owen said. "I didn't know it was yours."
"Actually, so is the CD mix," I said.
"I loved that mix. I always wondered how Sienna got all the songs. Not really her type of music," he said. "Sorry. This was supposed to help you remember your sister."
I took his hand and squeezed. "But it did! Much more than the rest of today. Sienna knew we liked the same things and she wanted to give you things you liked, so she gave you my stuff."
Owen smiled. "Yeah, Sienna always figured out how to remove the guesswork from anything."
We sat for a moment, and I was happy to finally be remembering my sister for who she was. When I realized I was still holding Owen's hand, the heat went directly to my cheeks.
"Sorry," I said.
"It’s okay, Quinn," Owen said. He moved closer and took my hand again. "Don't you ever think Sienna might have wanted this? She was always matching us up, always putting us together."
"Then why were you dating?"
"Sienna wanted a high school sweetheart. Those stories don't include breaking up freshman year and spending the rest of high school trying to find someone else," Owen said.
"You wanted to break up freshman year?"
"It was pretty easy to discover that Sienna and I did not like the same things," he shrugged.
"Then why were you dating Sienna?" I asked. I thought about my beautiful, perfect sister and my cheeks flared even hotter. "Never mind."
"No, Quinn, it wasn't like that. Sienna made things easy for me. I'm not a joiner, I don't like being in the middle of things. I never would have experienced half of high school if it wasn't for her. I would have been down here." He looked around our basement family room.
"With me?"
I was not ready when Owen looked back. His blue eyes were too bright, his grip on my hand too warm and tight. He leaned forward and the nearer he came, the less breath I was able to capture. I sat airless and in the vacuum hope, excitement, and fear fought. We couldn't do this, could we?
"Quinn? Are you down there again?"
"Father?" I asked. I dropped Owen's hand as if it had burned me.
"We're going to order a pizza. Come up and join us," my father said.
I thought about all the food from the funeral and realized the thought of it turned my stomach as well. I had hardly eaten all day and pizza sounded good. Even though all my father's invitations sounded like orders.
"I'll be up in a minute." I turned to Owen and whispered. "Wait a couple of minutes and go out the kitchen door."
He smiled and patted my leg. "Don't worry. I've done this before."
In the kitchen, my stomach was still fluttering with excitement. I felt as if my brain had no control over my emotions anymore and I swung from one feeling to the next without thought. Sienna was gone, I was still reeling in shock, and yet Owen felt the same. About everything. All those years of longing and the feelings might not have been unrequited. I clung to that joyful thought.
"Oh, there you are, darling. I ordered the pizza with the sun-dried tomatoes. Just like you like," my mother said.
"That was Sienna," I said.
"Oh, yes, sorry. I forgot you were home," my mother said. She poured a glass of white wine. "There's a special on the bridges of Paris, your father thought you might want to watch it while we eat. The pizza should be ready any minute."
"That was Sienna, too," I said. "You start without me and I'll go pick up the pizza."
Sienna loved Paris. It was her daydream city. Whenever she was feeling sad or pressured or stressed, she made imaginary plans to go to Paris.
"It feels good to think about leaving it all behind and going somewhere I've always longed to go," Sienna had explained. "Where would you go? And you can't say Paris."
"Las Vegas," I had told her.
"We live in Las Vegas."
"The Strip. All the lights, all the people from other places," I had tried to explain.
"All the flashing screens and video games?" Sienna had cocked an eyebrow at me. "You sound just like Owen. He's always wanting to go there. I mean, it’s fun once or twice, but I'm not into playing video games on wall-sized screens or whatever it is you two like to do."
I fought the overwhelming urge to get in the car and drive the 15 minutes to the Strip. People who lived in and around Las Vegas generally avoided that area like the plague. To me, it had a comforting aspect – like a part of my imagination come to life. And it did not hurt that no one there knew me or Sienna or what had happened.
#
" you're ready now, we can take the long way into town. I know you love that drive," my father said. He strolled into the kitchen, checking his watch.
"That was Sienna," I said. "Sienna liked to take the long way because she had a dream house picked out on top of the hill."
Summerlin was a relatively small community, so the long way was actually just a tour of the neighborhoods. The houses were impressive and it was fun to drive at night and peek into other people's lives.
The pizza place we liked was only a few minutes away, but Sienna and my father were sometimes gone for nearly 45 minutes. They drove around and plotted her perfect future. She wanted to be surgeon at one of the exclusive private hospitals in Las Vegas where she could treat rich people from all over the world without leaving her hometown. My father had even taken on clients from those hospitals to make sure Sienna would have the contacts she needed.
My father stopped and his watch arm dropped. He just stood in the corner of the kitchen and stared at the floor. "Well, the pizza will be ready soon. We should leave in about 15 minutes."
He shuffled back towards the front room as I leaned on the counter. I clung to Sienna's idea of a daydream city. It was easy to picture Las Vegas. I always started with the Paris Casino, the faux Eiffel Tower was something I often teased Sienna about. From there, I pictured the Bellagio's dancing fountains and the Luxor's sleek black lines. I also loved the roller coaster facade of New York, New York and the white columns of Caesar's Palace.
I focused in on the arcade at the MGM Grand. Beyond the normal kid games, they had interactive and full-sized gaming consoles where you could actually feel like you were inside the game. I wanted to step inside one and let everything else fade away.
Still, my daydream was not holding. Sienna was right. Tonight, Las Vegas was not far enough away and I had 15 minutes to escape. I put my head on my arms as I leaned on the counter and tried again.
This time my daydream city was a foreign land. Dark plains that held pockets of fog, black granite cliffs that jutted up before shadowy mountains, dim forest glens and silent stands of towering pine trees.
I had enough time to at least cue up Dark Flag and take a look around. I headed downstairs to the basement. There, I brushed aside the items Owen had returned and settled in on the worn leather sofa. Our wide screen television buzzed to life on the home screen of the video game and I quickly booted up my character.
Dark Flag was the perfect daydream city. Sienna would have scoffed at it, but it made sense to me. She planned trips to Paris in her head, I was jumping into the virtual rendering of the place I wanted to escape to. The game started with a dark screen full of black thunderclouds. Lightning flashed across the screen and the surrounded sound exploded. The game then dropped you through the thunderstorm and deposited you on the starting grid, a rainy road outside the walls of a looming city.
I thought for a moment about entering the city walls. It was easy to wander around there and people watch. The multi-player online game attracted millions of people from around the globe. Walking through the virtual city was what a lot of new players did. It was a chance to see what other people had done with their avatars. You could also purchase weapons, charms, and spells, instead of earning them in the field. Or you could head to one of the many taverns and interact with other avatars, as Owen had explained.
I turned away from the city. The whole point of my daydream was to escape from people, even virtual people. I knew Owen had been playing the Black Fields with his clan, so I turned in the opposite direction. I had never been inside the Pitch Forest and I had just enough time to explore before my father expected me to join him in the car.
The Pitch Forest was a massive landscape of huge pine trees and redwoods. My human avatar was tiny in comparison. The animation was amazing and for a while, I was perfectly content to look around and admire the quality of the game. Here and there the trees had carvings on them – signs from other players about which way the wayside inn was located and where the ogre caves could be found. The players themselves had created an entire language of symbols that I had just begun to unlock.
"My next victim," an underling player said.
All new players to Dark Flag started off as underlings. The lower evolved humans scuttled along on hands and feet like hairless dogs. Players stayed in that form until they fought others and earned their evolution. Dark Flag did not make it easy to sit down and start playing.
It had taken me three days to evolve into an avatar I wanted to play. "Wrong, newbie," I said.
The underling jumped at me and I knocked it back with an easy sequence. I could have killed it, causing the other player to have to wait an hour before rejoining the game, but the hand-to-hand combat was a good distraction.
The underling found its footing again and picked up a rock. "I'm not helpless," it said.
"You're not smart either," I sent my avatar forward with a sharp kick.
The rock slipped out of the underling’s hand and we grappled again. Underlings used teeth and nails to fight, but my leather jacket and pants, purchased in Black Wall City, kept me safe. I punched it back and we circled around again.
Just when I thought it was going to attack again, the underling spotted a Green Elf and decided to go after easier prey than me.
All in all, it was five minutes of distraction. I still had enough time to wander to the high cliffs and look down on the Black Fields, or I could finally accept a quest and start playing the game in earnest.
The redwood tree nearest me had a carving of a sideways “S.” The symbol meant a Soothsayer was near. Soothsayers could be fought for Fate spells. Or, if you found them and asked, they would assign you a quest.
I searched amongst the tall trees for the telltale glow of a Soothsayer's trail. Their footprints glittered before fading and after a quick search, I found some that still sparkled. I followed the trail until the Soothsayer appeared.
"Will you fight for your Fate, human?" it asked me.
"I wish a quest," I said. I knelt in front of the Soothsayer. The first time I had encountered one, I did not kneel and it knocked me out for ten minutes for being rude.
"Your quest will not be easy. It is far beyond the Black Fields, far beyond the capability of a mere human," the Soothsayer said.
"I want to try."
"Then you must travel far and find the warlock that will lead the Southern clan. He holds a Portal Key. Use that key to enter the dragon's cave. It has been too long since it flew. The Black Fields must be scorched, you must release the dragon," the Soothsayer said.
The game was evolving based on the players that dominated. The creators had certain ways of leveling the playing field such as plagues, natural disasters, and dragons. It was my quest to activate one of those levelers. That also meant I had the power to warn people or lure them to the Black Fields and eliminate my enemies.
My first instinct was to find Owen and tell him about my quest, but before I could leave the Pitch Forest, I was stopped by another player. The Green Witch was unnaturally voluptuous, as most female avatars were. Her iridescent green dress clung hard to her curvaceous frame and even as she spoke to me, her avatar struck several sexy poses.
"Don't go that way. Clansmen are all over the trail. It’s not safe," the Green Witch said. "Unless you have something to trade."
I did not dare ask what she had traded for safe passage. "Thanks, but I think I know some of them."
"This isn't the Light Clan. It’s new, started by a Thief King. They play dirty," the Green Witch said. "They have Thrall Spells. You can lose two lives or be stuck watching them play for a full 24 hours."
I thanked her and made my way cautiously through the Pitch Forest. I needed to follow the trail out to the Black Fields, but I barely knew how to play, much less how to play dirty.
I heard the chatter the closer I got to the trail. The Thief King was building a camp among the redwoods. Once avatars were well-established, they could actually create dwellings. Base camps or homes allowed a player to recharge without leaving the game.
I stopped and studied the command menu. I needed to know how to walk silently. I also needed to know how to hide. I wanted to hear what they were talking about.
"I know there's a way to make the Thralls do what we want," the Thief King was saying. "I read about the possibility of a Thrall army. We can do that and take on the Light Slayer."
I recognized Owen's player name. He was called Light Slayer because early on he had found the Sun Sword. It was part of the reason he was able to become Dark Flag's first clan leader. Too bad others were catching on fast. I did not like the sound of a Thrall army.
I made it past the camp and crossed the trail without being seen. Once I was amongst the redwoods and pines again, I relaxed.
It was a big mistake since out of nowhere, a Cloaked Corpse appeared. Cloaked Corpses traded the ability to speak for unlimited lives. They were not able to work together with other players so they were often alone. But because of the unlimited lives, they were impossible to kill.
I had no spells, only a Frost Sword. The Cloaked Corpse attacked and before I could think of a plan, I had to fight. If I did not avoid its razor sharp nails, there was a possibility my avatar would also become a Cloaked Corpse. They were the Dark Flag version of zombies.
I was about to give up and try to run when a bright flash of light obliterated the screen.
"Don't worry, Quinn, I got you," a voice said.
Light Slayer appeared, his Sun Sword sending out solar flares that blinded the Cloaked Corpse. He did not even have to fight to chase off the other player.
"Stop, don't," I told him. "There's a new clan nearby. A Thief King."
"His name's Balon," Owen said. "If we let him get more established, there will be bigger rewards when his clan falls." Still, he sheathed his Sun Sword and told his clan members to go and spy on the rival clan.
We were alone in the Pitch Forest.
It was strange to stand facing Owen's avatar. When he removed his helmet, I saw his avatar looked exactly like him. Not many people chose to be themselves in the game, but there we were, animated versions of ourselves.
"I'm glad you're here," Owen said.
"Me, too." I was about to tell him my quest when I saw his avatar pause.
"Sorry, Quinn, I gotta go," Owen said. He exited the game and Light Slayer disappeared.
I stood by myself in the Pitch Forest.
"Quinn? Can you go get the pizza by yourself?" my mother asked from the top of the stairs. "Your father had to make a phone call."
He would have gone with Sienna, but I was used to being sent off on my own.
#
got in the car, my head full of Dark Flag. It was easier than thinking about anything else.
Owen's avatar moved differently than any other player. He knew the commands and sequences so well that his avatar moved fluidly. I was impressed – and more than flattered that he had arrived just in time to save me. The game had notifications so a message could be sent when certain players logged on. Owen must have added me. Dark Flag's first clan leader saving some novice human; there was going to be talk.
I smiled to myself. It was nice that there was a whole other world where rumors like that were thrilling instead of awkward. I was wondering if I could handle the same talk in the real world when a knock on the window made me jump.
"I could use a little fresh air," my father said, getting into the passenger seat.
That meant my mother was taking a down turn. "Fresh air" was my father's polite way of saying he could not take the brunt of her blackening mood. He clipped his seatbelt on and turned the radio off.
"Should I take the long way?" I asked.
He nodded as I realized I had no idea which way the long route was. I turned right out of our driveway. My father did not seem to notice the world outside of the car. I kept driving and he did not care. He studied his hands quietly until I wondered if he had drifted off to sleep.
"Sorry for sending you out like that. I should have just gone myself," he finally said.
"It’s no problem. I wanted the fresh air myself," I replied.
My father opened his mouth and then popped it shut. He scrubbed his chin a few times before he said anything. "Your sister always had something to say. She was easy to talk to. There was always the next step of her plan to discuss, the accomplishments she could already check off. Sienna was going up and up."
"Thinking about the future made her happy," I said. The words left a painful reverberation in the car.
Sienna was only happy when she was discussing future plans. She never stopped to concentrate on where she was – or who she was with for that matter. She lived to become a projected version of herself. The perfect version of Sienna was always a few steps away in the certain future.
If she lost that certainty, even for a moment, a gloom fell over everything around her. When Sienna stopped to look around her, she found faults everywhere and her mood plummeted. I knew that was exactly what had happened, but I could not tell my father.
"What about your future?" my father asked. "You don't seem to spend much time thinking about it."
I gripped the steering wheel harder to keep the accusation in his tone from knocking us off course. "I have been lately," I said. "I think I should meet with my advisor again and discuss majors. There might be a better fit out there for me."
"Of course. Some people would take a tragedy like this and turn it into a reason to work hard with every breath. And some take it as an excuse to go spinning off into la-la-land," my father said.
I held on tighter. "No. It’s just I think I let Sienna influence me too much. She was always so excited about becoming a surgeon, she made us all excited about it too. I think that's why I chose nursing, not because I loved it. You have to love it to be good at it."
My father pinched the bridge of his nose. "Please, for the love of God, don't tell me this, not now. From what I see, all you love is hanging out in the basement playing video games. How are you going to turn that into any sort of respectable career?"
I turned the car, taking a shortcut through a neighborhood towards the pizza place. The drive could not be over quickly enough for either of us. "It's an entire international, multi-billion-dollar industry. People have very successful and very respectable careers in it."
"People? You mean like that Owen Redd? Please, Quinn, you cannot be drawing inspiration from a guy like him."
"Owen is creating his own career, his dream job. How can I not be inspired by that?" I asked. I realized too late we were on the street where Owen lived. His apartment, the top-floor loft of a three-story six-plex was two blocks ahead. I had driven Sienna there dozens of times.
"Turn right up here," my father said. "Looks like the police are causing some kind of detour.”
I bit my lip and turned. Two squad cars were parked outside of Owen's apartment building. One of the uniformed officers at the curb was pointing to the top-floor apartment. "I hope there wasn't an accident." My heart flopped and my ears buzzed; the memory of the last time I saw flashing emergency lights squeezed my heart.
My father ignored me. "You need to understand something about people like Owen. He's taking the easy way out. Just because he has a talent does not mean he'll make a living at it. If he's telling you that then it’s a lie."
"How can you say that? You don't know anything about Owen," I said.
"I've seen enough guys like Owen. I've had to defend them in court. If he's telling everyone he's made a successful career out of sitting around on his couch, ten-to-one there is something illegal going on. Sure, it might look good on the surface, but he's cheating the system somehow," my father said. "Your sister understood the only way you get ahead is through hard work. Following your dreams means you're either dirt poor or you are running a scam."
I drove the rest of the way to the pizza parlor without saying a word. I was worried about Owen, but my father's words filtered into my brain like acid. What did I really know about what Owen did?
PART 2
CHAPTER FOUR
Owen
looked out the window and noticed the streetlights had come on. Most people thought I played in a windowless basement. They would never believe I sat in a third-story loft apartment with a great view of the Nevada sunset. The sky had gone from dark pinks and oranges into a purplish blue and now it was dark.
As I turned back to Dark Flag, another display of lights lit up my window. The rolling reds and blues of a police car grew brighter. I watched as two squad cars converged and left the lights on. The officers got out and met at the curb. One of them pointed up to my floor.
I logged out of the game just as the sharp knock hit my door.
"Police. Open up."
I pulled open the door wide. "Can I help you, officers?"
"You can step aside, sir. We have a search warrant for this residence. Are you Owen Redd?" the bald and tight-mouthed officer asked.
"Yes, sir. What is this about?" I stepped back and let them in.
Three uniformed officers entered behind the one that spoke. He brandished a folded piece of paper. "We're going to take a look around."
I almost laughed. The loft apartment was a wide open room. A kitchen island separated one end from a wall of appliances. The other end was divided by a short hallway with two bedrooms off either side and a bathroom at the end. An L-shaped sofa delineated our living room. There was no dining room table, just a wide area rug where a few bits of my roommate's exercise equipment were scattered. Every inch of the apartment besides the bedrooms was on display.
The officers drifted to opposite corners of the apartment and started poking around. One eyeballed the built-in bookshelves that stood against the wall to my bedroom. Another strolled through the kitchen and opened kitchen cabinets at random. He left them hanging open. The third officer walked along the picture windows and I half expected him to wave to his partner on the curb watching the squad cars.
It had to be a joke.
The bald policeman handed me the folded paper before he turned and opened our entryway closet. Suddenly, all of the officers were going through things with both hands. Books were taken off shelves, drawers dug through, and clothes pushed aside to reveal the back edges of the closet. I opened the paper and discovered a very real search warrant.
"You're looking for drugs?" I asked.
The policeman near the windows was running his hands along the top of my television. "Pretty nice set-up you have here. Play video games?"
"Online, multi-player," I said.
"What exactly do you do for a living, Mr. Redd?" the bald officer reappeared from the back of our coat closet.
"I'm a sponsored player for the game Dark Flag," I said.
"You're telling me you sit around all day playing video games and someone pays you for it?"
"Yes, sir. I have the pay stubs to prove it. Though from the looks of this search warrant, I don't have to show them to you," I said.
"You might want to ask your lawyer about that," he said with a mean smile.
"Why exactly do you think there are drugs here?" I asked.
All four police officers scoffed and continued their digging without another word. Another stereotype of the gaming world: I sat around high while I played or somehow funded my sitting around by selling drugs on the side.
I sat on one of the stools at the kitchen island as they delved deeper into their search. All of the books came off the shelves and the officer sneezed as he flipped through the dusty pages.
"Yeah, those are more for display than anything. I mean, I don't know what else to put on that many shelves," I said.
The policeman in the kitchen had light duty as there were only two pots and a cast iron skillet in the lower cupboards. The upper cabinets had a random collection of pint glasses, a few mismatched plates, and coffee mugs with ridiculous sayings printed on them.
"Looks like he's a gourmet," he said. The pantry was bare except for a bag of brown rice, a few loose power bars, and a box of popcorn. The refrigerator had a stack of lunchmeat packages, a loaf of bread, and two drawers of fresh vegetables. "What, no cheese puffs and rocket fuel soda?" he asked.
I shrugged. "I'm more of a stir fry guy. Better protein stops snacking."
He eyeballed my trim waistline and scowled. "Sure, buddy. There's an awful lot of take-out containers in the trash."
"My roommate," I said.
As if that was a cue, the officers divided up and headed by pairs into the two bedrooms. I waited for twenty minutes until they reappeared.
The bald one was on his cell phone calling in a K-9 unit. "Gotta be thorough. Don't want to waste tax-payer money," he said.
The officers then ignored me and talked about football until the K-9 unit arrived. A German Shepherd with intelligent brown eyes and an eager pace pulled its partner into my apartment. After the third zig-zagging trip around, it looked up at its partner with a lopsided expression of boredom.
He turned the dog towards the bedrooms and it dragged him down the short hallway. It was in and out of my roommate's room in five minutes. Four minutes into my room, there was a low woof. The officer reappeared with the prancing dog; a sport coat in his hand.
I recognized the sport coat as the one my roommate had lent me. It had been in contention for wearing to the memorial service until I decided to wear my suit. If something was found in the pockets of his coat, he'd catch hell at work and most likely get fired.
"Nothing in it, but Gertrude likes it for something. Marijuana most likely," the officer said.
"My roommate wore it to a club a few days ago," I said.
Even the dog gave me a disbelieving look. I sat back down on my stool – it was going to be a long evening.
#
" that your roommate lent you this coat we found in your room," the bald officer said.
I was glad when my phone rang. I looked down and saw Quinn's name. My stomach jumped more from her than from the suspicious looks the police gave me.
"One of your clients?" the second officer asked.
"The fading scent of pot on a sports coat that was worn to a dance club doesn't really prove intent to sell, does it?" I asked. "And since I'm not the average under-informed, sub-intelligent criminal I'm sure you're used to making you feel smart, this whole search is over." I opened the door to let them out.
The K-9 officer was pulled through the open door by his eager partner. Two of the others shrugged and went to follow him, but the bald policeman blocked the door.
"Funny thing about stereotypes," he said. "They always come from some sort of truth. Like the fact that most criminals get all cocky like you are now before the weight of the law chokes it out of them."
I found a beer on the bottom shelf of the refrigerator and cracked it open before sitting back down on my kitchen stool. The police officers looked thirsty. "Go ahead and keep searching. You've got your warrant, and I'm not stopping you."
He scrubbed his bald head. There was no reason for them to remain at my place, but he could not let me have the last word. "Tell us about this alleged roommate of yours."
"Alleged? His name is on the mailbox and all that mail over there. I would have thought you would know all about him from your search of his bedroom."
"Are you going to cooperate or what, Mr. Redd?" He crossed his arms over a beefy chest.
"Fine, yes. My roommate's name is Jasper Collins. He does freelance web design, mainly for commercial businesses and corporations. He's always telling me he's after the 'big fish.' I think he even sent a proposal to your precinct after he got fed up trying to pay a parking ticket through your website."
"Freelance? So you two just sit around all day staring at your screens?" the officer asked.
"No, Jasper is more of the go-getter type. He gets most of his clients through face-to-face meetings. Encourages the techno-afraid to let him help," I said.
"And who was his last client?"
"A bakery over on Tenth," I said. "He said they have good donuts, maybe you know the place?"
The cops all sneered, but the tallest one stopped and tilted his head as he thought. "They did. The place closed down two months back."
I mentally ran through the list of clients Jasper had talked about. As I thought about it, I realized three of the clients he mentioned recently were local businesses I had seen closed or for rent. I never paid much attention because Jasper always paid his share of the rent on time and in full. There were holes all through his work stories, and I had just tripped into one in front of the police.
"A lot of businesses try shutting their brick and mortar stores and going online," I said.
One of the officers ducked into Jasper's room and came back out with a business card and folio. "Looks pretty polished to me. Your roommate's got a solid business plan. What? I went to business school before academy."
The bald policeman shook his head at his partner. "So, your roommate is a go-getter with a business plan and real clients. And you play an imaginary game for money."
Quinn called again. I took another swig of my beer and enjoyed knowing her quick-wit was only a button away. What would she say to the room full of police? The thought made me smile.
"Another client?"
"No. Same person," I said and showed him my phone.
"Oh? You get a lot of ladies by playing video games?" the bald officer asked.
"You'd be surprised how many attractive women play Dark Flag, officer. She's actually very good at it. A novice, but I think if I trained her up a bit she'd be amazing," I said.
He took the phone and considered the photo of Quinn that accompanied her ring. It was one of my favorite pictures.
Sienna and I had gone together to visit Quinn the day she arrived on campus. She had just pulled on her UCLA sweatshirt. Her hair was a riot and she was brushing it back and smiling a wide grin when I snapped the picture. Sienna dismissed it for not being posed or polished. That was what I loved most about it. Quinn looked natural and happy with a bright shine to her eyes.
"Is that why so many people come and go from your place?" he asked.
"What?" I put down my phone.
"Sounds like people are in and out of here all the time. You 'training' other people?" the officer asked.
"I did not know it was a crime to have people over to our apartment," I said. Jasper had a very lively social life. He could not bear to be in the apartment more than twenty minutes on his own. He was always inviting people over for a drink, to watch a show, or to gather and head out on the town.
The only person I ever had over regularly was Sienna, and that had stopped nearly a year ago. She did not have time to leave UCLA except to visit her parents and she much preferred the interior designed surroundings of her family's home to my bachelor pad.
"We both work off-hours and know a lot of other people with the same work-from-home type schedules," I said. "Jasper works with other freelancers – logo-designers, artists, etcetera. I have an agent and other industry colleagues that come here. So, yeah, people come over a lot."
"Well, Mr. Redd, all I can say is you should stay in town. This is not over yet," the bald officer said. He was happy with his final word and lead the way out the door.
I took another long sip of my beer and hoped that Quinn would call again.
#
a few minutes, I picked up the phone to call Quinn. Then, I put it down. It wasn't like I did not have other people to call. Other women, too. It just seemed like she was the first one on my mind. I shook my head and moved away from the phone.
Then it rang. It was Quinn. I picked it up on the second ring.
"Owen, are you alright? I was driving to pick up a pizza and I think I saw cops outside of your apartment building," she said.
I forced myself to take a sip of beer and slow down. "Yeah, they were here, but everything is alright."
"Seriously? Why were there cops at your place?"
"I don't know, someone trying to mess with me." The first explanation that came to mind took hold. "I bet another Dark Flag player got ahold of my address and thought they'd rattle me a little bit. There's actually a tournament coming up and maybe they hope I'll cancel."
"People do that?" Quinn asked.
It made sense. The players who focused on taking me down were usually very serious gamers and hacking came easily to many people in that set. Finding my address from my IP would not be impossible. I made a mental note to adjust my security settings and encrypt my IP address.
I heard the front door opening. There was one other explanation to why the cops were searching my apartment for drugs. "Look, I gotta go. Everything's fine. Maybe I'll see you in Dark Flag later."
I hung up on Quinn and waited for Jasper to untangle himself from his leather messenger bag, suit coat, and scarf. No matter what the weather was like, he always dressed like a man out of GQ.
"Hey, Owen, didn't see you there. How's my playah?" Jasper asked.
"Your timing is perfect, per usual," I said. "The police were here not too long ago. Spent good quality time searching the place for drugs."
He dropped his bag hard onto the floor but laughed. "Seriously? And I missed it? I've been meaning to follow up about that proposal I sent over to the precinct."
"Yeah? I told them about that. Right after they handed me a search warrant and went through everything," I said.
Jasper grabbed a beer from the refrigerator. "How long did that take them? Did they thank us simple bachelors for making it easy on them?"
"They brought in a K-9," I said.
Jasper took a long time to open his beer and take a heavy gulp. "Man, what have you done to piss off the authorities lately?"
"Who says it’s me?" I asked.
"People love to jump to stereotypes when I talk about my gamer roommate. You know, cheese puffs, high octane sodas, and a shut-in in sweatpants. I could see how the cops might jump to 'deals pot on the side.'"
"Except I don't," I said. "I don't even smoke pot. It would be in violation of my contracts. It'd be my career, too, you know."
"You say that like I'm the one that's guilty," Jasper said. He leaned against the counter and crossed his leather dress shoes. "All I'm saying is one of our nosy neighbors probably got the idea from some movie and tipped off the police. Gets a bit boring around here. Man, I'm sad I missed all the action."
"Me too. Especially when the German Shepherd was very interested in the pocket of the sports coat you lent me," I said.
"Oh?" Jasper asked. He straightened up, then stopped himself and leaned back casually. "Where is it? I was going to wear it out tonight. There's a great new band over at The Alley."
"Is that your way of telling me you're not dealing pot on the side?" I stood up and crossed my arms, taller and wider than Jasper.
"Seriously, man? Why would I be doing that? Things are going great for me," Jasper said. He looked around the loft from one end to the other. "In fact, I've been meaning to tell you I signed up with this head-hunting company. They've got a lead on a job for me in L.A. Looks like I might be moving on soon."
"Really?" I asked. "And this just comes up now?"
"Yeah, well, I didn't want to jinx it. So, anyway, come out with us tonight. Help me celebrate," Jasper said.
"No, thanks," I said. "I think I'm going to get some fresh air. Apparently, I need to think about getting a new roommate."
"How about that Quinn girl you've been mentioning? Maybe she's moving back to town," Jasper said. "That's gotta be a good thing for you."
I did not like her name on his lips, but I uncurled my fist. He knew too much about Quinn. He also knew everything that had happened with Sienna.
Jasper was moving on soon, and it occurred to me that now I had the chance to do the same.
#
made it to the corner before my phone rang. I pulled the car over and answered, thinking it might be Quinn again.
"There you are. I've left at least three messages," an impatient, fast-paced voice said.
"Oh, sorry, Tanner. How are you?" I asked.
My manager Tanner Olson gave a quick sigh. "Fine, fine. I'm just checking in with you about the tournament. You're all signed up and you're ready to roll, right?"
"Yes, I signed up online a few days ago just like you told me to," I told him.
"And have you gotten all the stuff from your sponsors?"
"What stuff?" I asked. A grumble of irritation made me clear my throat. "What have you agreed to this time, Tanner?"
"Nothing terrible. All small logos. A t-shirt, a polar fleece hoodie, a visor," he said quickly.
"A polar fleece hoodie? The tournament’s in Vegas."
"Inside," Tanner countered.
"So how do you explain the visor?" I asked.
"Bright stage lights."
"I'll look ridiculous."
"I requested everything in black. You'll look fine. It might actually tone down that whole underwear model thing you've got going," Tanner said. "You know half the gaming world thinks you're a front for some 400 pound shut-in."
"Great. Always nice talking to you," I said.
"Hey, you pay me to tell you the truth. You know you love me. Hey, speaking of love, who's the new ally?" Tanner asked.
"New ally?"
"The newbie human avatar. There's all sorts of buzz about you saving someone. You got a girlfriend I don't know about? I hear she's not a bad player. Want her to get a spot in the newcomers duel at the tournament? As long as she doesn't throw your concentration," Tanner said.
"Like I said, nice talking to you." I hung up the phone.
I realized too late that I should have told Tanner about the police visit. He would have a lawyer out to me within the hour. I shrugged it off. If Jasper was moving out, then I had no need to stir things up.
The same went for Quinn.
I should have known that Dark Flag was full of a bunch of gossips. Tanner had warned me that the better I did, the more I would be watched. Thousands of players had log-on alerts on me. A few of my sponsors put clips of my plays on their websites. I put down my phone. I was not ready to see what assumptions were being made about Quinn and I.
I had told Jasper I needed fresh air and it was true. I needed to clear my head. I restarted the car and drove to the trailhead of Calico Basin Trail just outside Summerlin. The trails were closed after sunset, but the parking lot was a good place for star-gazing. In high school, it was my refuge from loud post-game parties. I used to run into Quinn there. She had loved laying on the hood of her car and picking out constellations.
So, I should not have been surprised when I pulled into the parking lot and spotted her. Quinn was stretched out on the small hood of the economical little car her father had given her and Sienna. It was perfect for commuting back and forth between L.A. and Vegas. She sat up as my headlights swept across her and jumped to the ground.
"Hey, don't go. It's just me," I called out the driver's window.
Quinn stopped with her hand on the door handle. "Owen? What are you doing here?"
"Getting some fresh air," I said. "What did you think? That I'd be spending the night in a jail cell?"
"Well, I know you have all those severed heads in your freezer, so it was a safe bet," Quinn said.
I laughed and got out of my car. "If only it had been that exciting. The cops were pretty disappointed when they didn't find anything at my place."
"What were they looking for?" she asked, leaning against the hood of her car.
"Drugs. You know, gamer smokes pot, that whole stereotype," I said.
"That's terrible. You know, my father's a lawyer. Maybe you should talk to him."
"About what? ‘Hey, Mr. Thomas, you know how you think the worst of me? Well, so do the cops. What should I do?’ I think he'd lobby for locking me up." I joined her on the hood of her car.
"Yeah, maybe not," Quinn said. "But you think maybe someone set you up?"
"Now that I think about it, I should add your father to the list of possible suspects. If you think about it, he makes perfect sense. He hates me. He has connections in the police force, and he'd be able to get a search warrant," I said.
"As much as I could see how that might be true, I think my father has other things on his mind than setting you up," she said. She nudged me with her elbow. "He never forced you and Sienna apart. He just hoped you'd drift apart naturally."
"Yeah, well, he got his wish," I said.
Quinn looked up at me, her chocolate brown eyes wide in the dark. "What do you mean?"
"I mean that Sienna and I drifted apart. You know it’s true, Quinn. It was happening all along, but when she left for UCLA it was real."
"Every couple goes through ups and downs," Quinn said. She inched away from me. "Long distance is hard."
"But it wasn't that," I said. The whole story was on the tip of my tongue. I wanted to pull her back against me and confess it all.
"Sienna was really busy at school, that's all. I barely saw her. She loved you, anyway," Quinn said.
"Sienna loved the idea of me. The real me was a project that never quite fit her standards."
"No. When you're dating someone, you just want them to love everything you love. That's how it is with me and Trent."
"Wait," I said. My hands turned to ice. "Who's Trent?"
"My boyfriend," Quinn said.
CHAPTER FIVE
Quinn
woke up in the morning and realized just how little sleep I had gotten. Owen had left the parking lot of the Calico Basin Trail shortly after he arrived. The only problem was his words echoed through my head all night.
He and Sienna had drifted apart?
I knew he was telling the truth, I just could not believe he was telling me. There was something so serious in his tone. I knew there was more to it, but I panicked. After so many years of desiring Owen from afar, I was completely terrified by how close and available he was sitting there next to me on the hood of my car.
I worried he was clearing the path and he needed to know there were other big obstacles. I had started dating Trent three months back and had never mentioned it before.
I rolled out of bed and grabbed my phone.
"Hi, sweetie. I was wondering when I was going to hear from you," Trent said.
"Hear from me? You were supposed to be here for the funeral," I said.
"Whoa, so we're going to jump right into that, huh? Quinn, honey, don't be mad…"
"Trent, you missed my sister's funeral. I needed you here," I told him.
"Not really time to meet the parents and do that whole show. I thought I was doing you a favor," Trent said.
I could hear him put a hand over the phone and whisper to someone. "I thought you said you didn't care about them. You were going to come to support me." I felt too tired to have the conversation, but it was too late.
Trent was exhausting. The constant upbeat pace of his personality was what first attracted me to him. He was 5' 9", lanky with dyed white hair cut short. He stood out and was always the center of attention. So when he noticed me, I was swept into his life. At first, I was happy to be along for the ride. Trent was funny, knew everybody on campus, and was the king of the perfectly timed compliment. He was just the person to pull me from my shell at college. But lately, I was realizing how much he drained my energy.
Trent was not a cuddle on the couch and play video games kind of guy.
"I do support you, baby. And I thought I was doing you a favor by staying here. You should have seen me, killing rumors about your sister at this big campus party," Trent said.
"You went to a party?"
"Oh, you know me, it was just some get-together until I got a hold of this sweet set of speakers," Trent laughed then cut himself short. "So, tell me about the ceremony."
"There was a visitation here at the house and then the interment at the cemetery. It was awful. My parents were awful. All the people remembering the saintly side of Sienna were awful. Her whole high school class showed up."
"Ugh. I can imagine. Every time I go home, I feel like I need body armor to deflect all the high school reunion crap. People are always telling me how great I look now. As if I was a total slug then or something," Trent said.
"It was just really hard that no one wanted to remember the real Sienna. My sister was more than some peppy go-getter, you know? She had ups and downs just like everyone. It was like watching a real 3D person turn into a 2D photograph right in front of me," I tried to explain.
"Oh, speaking of photos, you need to go online and check out the pics of me at the art show. There's this one where I swear I look just like the guy from that movie you like. You know, the cool one with the suit and sunglasses?"
"Trent! I'm talking about my sister's funeral."
"I know, I know, sweetie. I get it. I'm just trying to lighten the mood. When are you coming back to campus?" he asked.
"I don't know. My parents want me to stay another day or two, but-"
Trent interrupted, "Sounds good. I mean, you need family time and all that. Come over right when you get here, okay? Miss you!"
I listened to the dial tone and resisted the urge to throw my phone against the wall. Trent was right, though. I needed to lighten my mood, and staying with my parents one more day was not going to help.
I packed my bags before breakfast. My father was the only one downstairs; my mother's bedroom door was shut tight again.
"Would it be okay if I headed back to campus soon?" I asked my father.
"That's a good idea. You probably have a lot of catching up to do," he said. He was packing his briefcase to head back to work. He missed my head and kissed the air as he walked to the garage door.
#
got to my dorm room just before lunch. Darla had already left for class and I was glad for a moment alone. As soon as I had driven onto campus, I was flooded with memories of Sienna. I had to take a detour just to avoid seeing her dormitory.
I threw my overnight bag on the bed and opened it. Instead of carefully putting everything away, I decided to just dump it into my laundry basket. I had only been on campus twenty minutes, but I was already itching to get back in the car.
There were messages written all over the white board on our door. Notes were taped along the doorframe. Inside, Darla had carefully arranged a wild display of cheap flowers purchased at the bookstore. It looked like half of campus had decided to leave me condolences. I hated to think what Sienna's door looked like and vowed not to go there.
Instead, I started to think about leaving campus all together. Sienna was the only one that had kept me on track. Even my college advisor had started suggesting I look at other majors. Without my sister driving me, there was no way I was going to earn my degree in nursing. I did not have the heart for it.
Sienna was going to be the heart surgeon, I thought. Had I somehow imagined I would be a nurse in the same hospital? What had I been thinking?
It had all been decided for me. I remembered the conversations over my college applications. I had said very little. I loved the sound of UCLA and at the time, it had not mattered what got me here. Now, all I could think about was getting out.
The sickly sweet smell of the carnations and daisies made me nauseated. The few cards that I could see all talked about Sienna like she was a perfect angel. Am I so wrong for wanting to remember my sister the way she actually was?
I still had time to make it to class, but the whole rest of the day stretched out before me like a minefield of memories. I would look for Sienna everywhere. She had helped pick out the quilt on my bed. She had given me my desk organizer. Sienna always waved to me before gross anatomy. The memories froze my blood faster than seeing a real ghost and drove me from my room.
"Quinn! I didn't expect to see you back so soon."
I stopped short of running my lab partner over. Her smile wobbled at the wild look in my eyes, but she caught me in a hug anyway.
"Yeah, I think I came back too fast. I mean, I'm just here to get some more of my stuff," I said.
She brushed back her curly hair and blinked wet eyes at me. "I can't even imagine how hard this is for you. Darla thought about taking down all the notes, but she finally decided it was a good memorial for everyone."
"No, she's right. It’s wonderful." I made sure to look anywhere but the door covered in condolences. "How's class?"
"I've got all the notes for you and I asked a few of the students that film his lectures to send you links. I think you can catch up no problem."
I put a hand against the wall and wondered if I was going to retch. "Sounds good."
"No, no it doesn't. Oh, Quinn, I'm so sorry," she said. "You know there is a school policy that lets students take a semester off. Family tragedy is a completely understandable reason for needing the time."
"No, it’s fine. I'll be back soon. Thanks so much for keeping me up to date," I said. The idea of all the make-up work was overwhelming, but I managed a smile for my lab partner. "Are you doing okay on your own or did they assign you a new partner?"
"A new partner. Remember the guy with the glasses that I kind of had a crush on? So really, it’s no problem," she smiled.
I was glad for the change of topic. "He's a friend of Trent's. We'll have to try a double date some time."
Her smile slipped as she checked her watch. "I gotta run but you take care, Quinn. See you again soon!"
I turned and ran down the stairwell. Now that she had mentioned taking a semester off, the idea was taking root. I needed time to figure out what I really wanted to do and if UCLA was really the place for me. So, naturally, before I decided to leave college, the person I needed to talk to was my college boyfriend. I headed out the door and straight for Trent's dorm.
He should have been in his economics class. There was a sunny common room two doors down from his dorm room and I planned to wait there until he got back. It was always easy to hear when Trent was coming.
Only when I passed his door, I heard something that made my heart stop. A low moan tipped up to a tight, ragged sigh before settling back into heavy breathing.
His roommate? I wondered. I could not force myself to keep walking and stood rooted to the floor outside his door.
An unmistakable rhythm was building behind Trent's door and a duet of soft groans was getting louder. I prayed it was his roommate. Trent's roommate had a desk cluttered with photographs of his high school sweetheart. Maybe she was visiting.
"Ooo, Big T likes that, baby."
Trent's voice was heavy, but I heard it clearly. Before I could stop myself, I turned the handle and threw open the door.
My boyfriend was bent over, one knee on his twin bed, the other foot planted on the floor. Standing square behind him with his pants around his ankles was a short guy with black curly hair.
#
lover grabbed his pants but still tripped as he pushed away from my boyfriend. Trent dove onto the bed and rolled into the covers, but not before I saw he was completely naked.
"You're gay?" I asked, though it came out as more of a shout.
"Don't overreact, Quinn," Trent said. He stood up and wrapped the bedspread around his waist. "I think we can all be adults about this. John knows all about you."
"I know. I introduced you two!" I could not control the volume of my voice.
Trent shushed me as he dodged around and shut the door behind me. "Oh, yeah. I forgot about that."
"We're in the same nursing program," I said. "I introduced you at the mixer last month. Wait, how long has this been going on?"
John buckled his pants and pulled on his shirt. Then, he crossed his arms and looked at Trent. "I thought she knew about us."
"And that's supposed to make it okay?" I asked.
John shrugged. "Trent said you were cool with it. I thought you two had, like, an open relationship or something."
"Is that what you told him?" I asked Trent.
"Look, Quinn, I get it. I should have told you, but this is all kind of new for me," Trent tried to explain.
"What exactly is new for you?" I asked. "Being gay, cheating on your significant other, or getting caught?"
John smothered a laugh. "I like her. So, I'm going to get out of here."
"Wait, no," Trent said. He blocked the door. "Quinn, you're right. This is not how you should have found out. I meant to tell you. I meant to tell her, John. I really did hope everything I said would be true."
"What did he say?" I asked John.
"He said you were the best girlfriend he's ever had. Like a best friend, a perfect date, and a good kisser all wrapped up in one person," John said.
"Just minus a penis," I said.
John gave me a sympathetic smile. "Trent's not gay, honey. He's bi-sexual. What he wants is both of us. I'm not big on sharing, but you're a dear and I think we'd get along."
I turned to Trent and strangled my hands together to stop them from shaking. "So, what John's telling me is that you want to date me, but have sex with him?" I asked.
"Both of you," Trent said, reaching for my hand. "I like having sex with you, too."
I pulled away. "You cheated on me!"
"We never really talked about exclusivity, Quinn. And this is really something totally different. I didn't have sex with another woman. You're the only gal for me."
"We haven't dated anyone else for months," I said. "There wasn't anything to talk about. We were a couple. That means 'two,' Trent. Not two people plus a little fun on the side. It doesn't matter who you did it with. Cheating is cheating."
"Come on, Quinn, so I screwed up. That doesn't mean we have to break up," Trent said.
"It does to me," I said. I rubbed my forehead. "I guess it’s good you didn't come to the funeral. Owen's the only one that knows about you."
"Owen?" Trent asked. "You're oh-so-hot best friend flirt fest? The one that was 'dating' your sister but actually all over you? You were with him this weekend?"
"With him? He was at Sienna's funeral! Like you were supposed to be. Of course, I talked to him. I needed someone to lean on," I said.
Trent crossed his arms. "Oh, so you leaned on him? Now's who’s the cheater?"
"I didn't have sex with him!" I shouted.
"No, it's worse. You cheated on me emotionally," Trent said. "I know how you feel about him. For God's sake, Quinn, you should see your face when you talk about him." Trent turned to John. "She has his magazine cover on her desk. Total crush."
"So what?" I asked. "He was there when I needed someone. While you were here with John. And that's the end of it." I pushed Trent aside and opened the door.
"Wait. Are you breaking up with me?" Trent asked.
"Yes. Goodbye. Good luck, John," I said and slammed the door behind me.
I was still heaving angry breaths when the phone rang. "Darla?" I asked.
"Quinn, where are you? Are you out of breath?" my roommate asked. "You can't seriously be going to class right now."
"Now's not the best time, Darla."
"Okay, fine. It’s just I saw your stuff so I know you're on campus. I just wanted to make sure you were heading to class. Do me a favor, okay? Before you head off to see Trent will you come back? We need to chat," Darla said.
"Chat about Trent?" I asked.
"Yes. Maybe it’s no big deal but I don't want you to get blindsided by rumors," Darla said.
"What rumors?"
My roommate hesitated and then plunged ahead. "I don't want to do this over the phone, but I saw Trent at this big party."
"When he was supposed to be with me at my sister's funeral," I said.
"God, yeah. This is awful. Just come back here after class, okay?" Darla asked.
"Its fine, just tell me," I said.
"Well, I was at the party too, and I saw Trent there with someone," Darla said. "He was with a guy and they were, ah, really getting to know each other."
"Like go back to his dorm room and have drunken sex?" I asked.
"Oh my God," Darla said. "Did you already go over there? What happened?"
I reached our dorm room and once I was inside I dropped my phone. "What happened is I went to Trent's and found him having sex with John."
Darla dropped her phone too. "Quinn, I'm so sorry. What did you do?"
"I broke up with him," I said. There were no tears in my eyes. I blinked and realized how my hurt was mixing with relief.
"So, what do you want to do now?" Darla asked.
"I'm heading back home for a few days," I said.
The four-hour drive was a blur. When I got home, my parents had not even remembered I had left. So, I grabbed some snacks and headed to the basement before the tears came.