Following Me(20)

But Hadley…

Oh, Hadley.

Hadley had never even smoked pot in college. People had made fun of her for never trying anything. She was so carefree. She had said she didn’t need drugs to alter her mood because she was so awesome without them.

Now, she’s snorting coke in public?

Devon couldn’t fathom it. How had she lost so much of her best friend in just one semester? Then again, who was she to judge? Devon had lost all of herself in that amount of time. Or had it been happening longer, and she had just finally opened her eyes?

She sank down into her chair and stared out across the Chicago skyline. She probably should have left right away. She didn’t know how to deal, and the more she thought about it, the more pissed she became. Hadley was just being irresponsible doing that shit somewhere she could get caught. How often was she using? Did Garrett know? Was he also on drugs?

Devon had so many questions. But if she asked Hadley to open up, would Hadley require her to do it in turn?

“Hey, Belle. You alright?” Brennan asked, sliding back into the chair next to her.

“Stop calling me that,” she spat.

“Huh,” he said.

“Stop that, too!”

“Stop what?” He stared at her blankly.

She looked away. “Oh, nothing.”

“You need a shot?” He offered her the tequila in his hand.

“No. Shots don’t fix everything,” she said, turning to glare at him.

It was enough that her life was a mess. Hadley wasn’t supposed to be f**ked up, too. Hadley was supposed to be the well-grounded, smart, and successful one. She was supposed to have the world at her feet.

“Suit yourself.” Brennan tipped back the drink.

“What’s your deal?” she asked, her despair getting the best of her.

Brennan shrugged. “What’s your deal?”

He was looking directly into her eyes now. It made her uncomfortable, so she looked away. She really just wanted to say that she had asked first, but in the interest of not sounding like a toddler, she held it back.

“I just don’t get you.”

“Sorry,” he said unapologetically.

Sorry? Like that explains everything away, she thought bitterly.

“Are you always this talkative?” she asked dryly.

“Well, I thought you were quiet,” he said with a shrug.

She was certain that he was purposely evading her questions now. Considering how little she was telling anyone, his nonanswers were downright infuriating.

“Whatever,” she finally consented. “I think I’m going to leave. I need to talk to Hadley about…some shit, but I think she’ll be more articulate tomorrow.”

“Why? Is she wasted?” he asked, looking up at Devon where she now stood over him.

Devon sighed in frustration. “You could say that,” she huffed.

“Hey,” Brennan said, catching Devon’s arm before she walked away, “you’re not going home alone, are you?”

He slowly stood up, wavering a bit on his feet. If anyone was wasted, it was Brennan. Devon was feeling surprisingly sober after her rendezvous in the restroom.

“Yes,” she said, looking down at his arm, “I’m going home alone.”

“No way.” He shook his head. “The city isn’t safe at this hour.”

“And you’re going to do what?” she asked, looking him up and down. “You can barely walk.”

He blinked a few times and then straightened. He was clearly trying to make himself look more stable, but Devon wasn’t fooled. She had been drunk enough before to know that look in his eye was far from sobriety. And she wasn’t going to have some drunk guy she had only known for a week help her home. That offer didn’t sound like it promised anything but mayhem.

“Seriously, I’ll be fine,” she told him.

Though, to be honest, the thought of going out in the city by herself was daunting. As it was, her nightmares left her running through unfamiliar dark streets. She didn’t want to live her nightmares in real life.

“No, you won’t. Not in Chicago, Belle,” he said, slurring her nickname.

“Brennan, you’re drunk. Pretty much wasted. You’re going to be no help on the streets tonight,” Devon said.

“Plan on getting on a train tomorrow? Well, you walk around Chicago by yourself, and you won’t be,” he told her.

Devon swallowed hard. She didn’t want to be on a train tomorrow. In fact, she wanted nothing less than to not return to St. Louis. She just hadn’t figured out how to stay.

“What do you suggest then?” she demanded, wanting to get out of here.

He smiled lazily. “My place is just around the corner. You can crash there.”

Devon flushed. “I think I’ll just find a cab or something.”

“Hey, guys!” Hadley cried, crashing back into the party. “Let’s do some shots!”

“I think I’m going to go back,” Devon said, crossing her arms.

“What? No, you just got here, and you’re leaving tomorrow,” Hadley said.

Devon didn’t want to make a scene in the middle of the bar, but she was becoming more and more irritated because Hadley was treating her like an idiot. Devon was far from an idiot.