Shuffle (Ruby Riot #2) (5 page)

Chapter Nine

WILL

I hang back after the study session, following a weekend of deliberating what to do. The incident at the Union was a wake-up call to two things: one, Fleur is never going to be interested in me; and two, any semblance of friendship will be fucked up when she finds out who I really am. From experience, people who discover me and Nate have tricked them over our identities aren’t happy. Those who find out from other sources are, without exception, pissed off. Nate’s not happy for me to continue, I understand that, but I don’t want to lose Fleur’s friendship. Haha.

Ruby Riot has the first of our rehearsal sessions at the weekend, the album due for release at the end of the month. That means less time on campus and a perfect opportunity to admit the deceit and let things blow over. Nita’s always ready with a smile, perhaps I can persuade her to help me out when Fleur inevitably tells me to fuck off.

Fleur’s happier today than the last few times, a relaxed aura around tempering the tension she normally carries. Knowing chicks, I can guess why. Mr. Perfect has surrounded her in Disney bluebirds and butterflies. The green monster takes a bite at my heart, then points out that I can’t have any girl I want the way I thought I could. For a few moments, Fleur doesn’t notice me as she texts on her phone, wearing a soppy smile.

Retch.

I bet they’re kisses and hugs, I can’t imagine Fleur sexting.

“Did you want something?” Fleur asks when she finally notices me.

“Wanted to talk to you,” I mumble.

“Now? I have to be somewhere in ten.”

“It won’t take long.”

Fleur sits back on a chair, setting her phone in front of her. “You’re not what I expected.”

“No?” I perch on the edge of the table.

“Less arrogant. Apart from the other night. What was that? Too cool to be seen talking to me?”

I frown. She’s not annoyed, but amused. “I was drunk.”

“Hmm. At least your brother wasn’t around. Does he always behave like that at parties? To girls, I mean.”

I stare into her blue eyes, at her friendly smile, and bottle out of telling her.
Next time. One more assignment
.

“We’re both wankers sometimes.”

Fleur laughs and a warm feeling fills my chest. I made her laugh and smile. She’s a serious chick, not a full-on nerd but always focused on work above everything else. Maybe Eager Ethan helps her relax.

The monster takes another bite.

“I guess you’re allowed to be,” she replies.

“You think?”

“I’ve seen how people react to you – not just girls but the industry. You have talent, not surprised your heads are swelling.”

“Do you like the band?”

“Me? I liked that song you did, the one everybody knows.”

“‘My Kinda Disaster’?”

“I think so, but I don’t pay much attention to Ruby Riot, sorry.”

It’s my turn to laugh. “People like you help with the not-being-a-wanker thing. You treat me like an ordinary person.”

“You are an ordinary person, Nate.”

“Sheesh, thanks.”

“Tell you what, when Ruby Riot win an award and hit the top of the charts, ask me again. Then I might admit you’re special.”

I’m on the verge of asking Fleur to our next gig, but swallow down the words. How can I? Nate will be there.

“Sorry about being rude at the weekend,” I say.

“Doesn’t matter, you weren’t really, just being rock star Nate.” She pauses. “At least you’re not your brother. Does he do that a lot to girls who say no?”

I’m a fucking idiot. How did I get here? Why didn’t I take a chance on telling her that first afternoon and prove I wasn’t the same guy when I was sober?

“Uh. No. I think he genuinely likes you.”

Fleur bites the corner of her mouth and shakes her head. “Don’t try and stick up for him. I think he saw me as a challenge.”

“No, he isn’t like that.”

“Sure, he isn’t. I’ve seen the pair of you covered in girls.”

“Ah, well, that’s because the girls can’t help themselves.” Fleur makes a soft sound of derision. “Anyway, Jax doesn’t anymore; he found a girl. Maybe I should do the same.”

“I doubt that’s a good idea.”

“Why?”

“Twenty-one-year-old guy on the cusp of stardom? She’d have to be something special.”

“Yeah, like I said, Jax has done it.”

Fleur doesn’t respond, but I can see the doubt on her face. “If I was one of those girls, I would steer clear. Guys like you will leave a trail of shattered hearts across the globe soon.”

I laugh. “Any guy can break your heart; he doesn’t have to be a rock star.”

“You are correct, but I’m lowering my odds and keeping away from them.”

“Of course, because you’re with a guy anyway.”

“Early days. Why are you asking? Going to tell Will?” Her tone is teasing. “I bet he’ll be devastated when he hears!”

“He knows he’d never stand a chance with you.”

“This a twin intuition thing?”

“Nah, I mean you’re Miss Sensible and studious. Can’t see you with a tattooed slacker.”

“Then I guess you understand me better than I thought.” She pushes her hair behind an ear. “I doubt he’d be happy if he knew you were saying this stuff to me.”

I grin and swing my legs from the desk. “True. He’d kick my ass if he knew I was spilling his secret crush.”
I’m him. Tell her I’m Will. You’re a bloody coward.

“Crush?” Her brow creases. “That’s a bit far. Are you teasing me?”

“No!”

Fleur checks her phone. “I have to go. You distracted me. What did you want to talk about?”

I grasp at a response. “Oh. I can’t make it next week. Have some band promo to do.”

“So you’ll hand your assignment in early? It’s due Friday.”

“Ah. Crap. Yeah.”

“Cut out the partying for once, finish the paper.”

I cock a brow. “No can do, I have my chicks to entertain.”

She stands. “You’re a smart guy underneath all that front, Nate. If you want to pass, you can. You just have to decide where to put the effort in.”

“Ruby Riot will always come first.”

“And that’s why you’re in the position you are. I hope your dreams happen.”

Fleur leaves the room and I stand for a few moments between my two worlds. Is it pathetic that I dream of her and it’s never going to happen?

Chapter Ten

FLEUR

Celebrating passing the toughest assignment of the semester seemed like a great idea at the time. Swept in the euphoria of the study group – minus Nate who hasn’t been for two weeks – we stuff our A and B grade papers into our bags and skip across campus. Literally, if you’re Nita. Sam stomped along repeating how awesome I am, and I remind him it was a group effort. Though secretly, I know my influence and expertise helped them push their marks that little bit higher.

Now, after several Red Bulls and vodka, the celebration has led to a degree of room spinning in the pub. I stare at the beer mat on the table, hoping if I focus on it the spinning will stop. Nita chatters excitedly to Steph, and I half-hear Sam talking about Ruby Riot above the thumping bass music.

“How do you think Nate did?” he asks.

I pick my glass up to drink and am surprised to see it’s empty again. “No idea. Doesn’t matter to him, I s’pose.”

“Why did he stop coming to group?”

“No idea. Busy being famous.” I hold out my empty glass. “Will you fetch me a drink?”

I turn my head to Sam who’s difficult to focus on.

“Same again?”

“No. Coke.”

He grins. “Thought you’d knocked a few too many back.”

“Mmm.” Maybe leaving soon is a better idea.

We hit the pub early and the place has filled since I last looked around. Lots of blurry people.

“I miss him,” says Nita.

“Who?”

“Nate. He’s funny. Cool guy.” She points at me with one finger from the hand she’s holding around her glass. “I swear he was into you.”

“Sure. Like I’m his type.”

“Just saying. Maybe he stopped coming because he couldn’t handle you’d hooked up with Ethan.” She giggles. “Nice catch there.”

I smile drunkenly to myself. He sure is. We’re officially dating and he’s a sweetheart. Respectful guy who sends romantic texts and understands when I can’t see him because of study.

“He’s special,” I say. “Sam?” I hold the glass out.

As Sam slides off the bench seat to head to the bar, I take advantage of the space and pay a visit to the bathrooms. I hold the sink and look at my drunk self in the mirror. Days like these where the world is straightforward, everything in its place, are somehow happier when alcohol flows through too.

I’m not one to admire myself, and maybe the soft focus of drink helps, but I had to admit to myself that I’m lucky to look okay with no make-up on. Some girls hide behind it, as with anything about me, you get what you see.

Stepping into the growing volume of music and voices in the small pub, I head back to the table. On the way over, I spot the guy I’ve been thinking about at the bar. Ethan. He’s side view and my heart rate picks up remembering our time together the other night as I walk over. I came close to relenting and spending the night with him, but we’ve only been together a couple of weeks and I need to see how serious we become first.

“Hey,” I say and smile.

Ethan looks around in surprise. “Fleur. I thought you had study group tonight.”

“We’re celebrating instead. Aced it!”

“Oh. Cool. Well done.”

The guy he’s with laughs and Ethan shoots him a look.

“Come and sit with us,” I say, indicating my friends.

“It’s okay; I’m not staying long.”

The guy he’s with chuckles again. “He’s busy tonight.”

“That’s okay! We can catch up tomorrow.” No way do I want to come across as the clingy girlfriend.

“Sure thing.”

I tiptoe to kiss Ethan and he turns his face so I hit his cheek instead. Suspicion finally pushes through my drunken haze. “Everything okay?”

Ethan pushes some hair from my face. “Sure thing, I need to go though.”

“You just arrived.”

He glances over my shoulder then closes his eyes, face scrunching up.

“Ethan, honey.”

A girl sidles up to him and wraps an arm around Ethan’s waist.

What the hell? I steady myself on the bar. Do I know her? Yes. This is the girl from the party Will humiliated me at. Has he been with her all this time?

“Fleur...” he begins.

My usual ability to conjure witty comebacks hasn’t accompanied me tonight. The nausea gripping my stomach is no longer alcohol induced and it’s a bloody good job I hold onto enough sobriety to stop myself making a scene.

Bastard.

I take a deep breath and fix my eyes on his. Ethan looks away.

Bloody bastard.

“Right. I understand.” I turn and head back to the table where Nita watches me with concern.

“I was going to come and find you when I saw him,” she says. “I’m sorry. Do you want to go?”

“What? No!” I snatch my fresh drink from the table and drink half of the glass in one go. “Just because he’s an dickhead, doesn’t mean he should ruin my night. I need vodka in this.”

Nita looks at me dubiously. “Okay...”

“We’ll stay for a couple more and then let’s go to Discovery.”

“Discovery?”

“Yeah. Student night. Haven’t been all term. Thought we were celebrating.”

Slumping back in my seat, I watch as Ethan heads out of the pub with his friend and the girl. I should’ve expected this to happen when I refused sex with him. I guess he’s not one for waiting around. Arsehole.

****

“She’s wasted.” Steph’s voice from nearby but far away.

“I know. I told her to stop.” Nita.

“Did you call a cab?”

“At this time? And how much cash do you think I have?”

“How are we going to get on the bloody bus when she can’t stand?”

My hair hangs in my face and I stare at the sticky carpet. The music grows louder, then quieter again as a door opens and closes. “I’m okay.”

Anne crouches down and I attempt to focus on her face. “Do you feel sick?”

“No,” I mumble.

“What’s going on?” Another person joins my audience and I stare as a pair of bashed up combat boots enter my line of sight. “Fleur?”

I peer up through my fringe and focus. Will or Nate. Twin. “Which one are you?” I ask as he crouches in front of me. “‘Cause if you’re Will coming for another go, you can piss off!”

“Wow, you’re an obnoxious drunk!”

I hiccup down the vomit threatening to spill as he stands again. A discussion continues in low voices as I gaze with interest at the pattern on the carpet.

“Nate’s taking you home,” says Steph.

“Nate?”

Powerful hands pull me to my feet, catching under my arms. “Or Will.”

“Who? Which?” I mumble.

“Whichever one you want me to be.”

With those words, I accept this is Nate and relax. A little too much because my feet don’t appear to be working. I stumble forward and end up with my face pressed against Nate’s hard chest. He smells all kinds of amazing, fresher than the grungy guy he looks.

“You okay to walk?” he asks; and as my legs buckle again, he laughs. “Stupid question.”

The world shifts position as Nate scoops me up, arms beneath my legs and I grab him around the neck. “Don’t drop me!” I shriek.

He hitches me higher, arm around my waist. “Are you suggesting I’m weak?”

“No, you’re just a bit...” I squeeze an arm around his tense bicep. Maybe not.

“A bit what?”

“Never mind.”

“I’m perfectly capable of carrying a damsel away from her distress.”

I’d fight for him to put me down but suspect I wouldn’t do a very good job of walking home alone. “Funny.”

“You are when you’re drunk. What happened?”

The fresh air hits as we step out of the club into the autumn air, and I wish I knew where my coat is. “Am I not allowed to get drunk?”

Nate sets me down, carefully leaning me against a wall. “You are allowed to do whatever you want Fleur; but I don’t want to hear you’re getting drunk because something shit happened to you.”

“Hmm.” My back scrapes along the wall as I slide to the floor.

I look up at Nate who looks down with an amused quirk to his mouth.

“What’s funny?” I snap.

“Nothing. Well, drunk chicks are always funny.” I’m about to retort when he steps away. “Wait there.”

Like I’m going anywhere? I rest my head against the rough bricks and watch Nate hail a cab. My messenger bag is hooked around his back. A couple of passersby look down at me. Normally I’d be mortified; but really, I don’t give a crap. I just want to go home.

****

Why does fresh air always increase the intoxication? I refused to let him carry me again, so Nate patiently agreed to let me pick my way along the pathway to my house, a journey filled with peril as I managed to trip over something imaginary and graze my knee.

“You’re fucking funny,” he laughs and hauls me to my feet.

We finally reach my front door and he takes my keys; Nate pushes open the door, and I stumble in.

Heading to the nearest armchair, I sit heavily. “Thanks, I’m home now.”

“What? Aren’t you going to offer me a drink for my heroics?”

I attempt to focus on him. “I can hardly see you, let alone stand and make you a drink.”

He eyes the stairs. “Want help getting to bed?”

I straighten. “You can forget that! I’m not screwing you!”

“If your friends thought I was going to take advantage, would they have let me bring you home?” Annoyance tinges his voice. “Date rape isn’t on my to do list.”

“Sorry,” I mumble. “Not a fan of men tonight.”

“So this state you’re in is about more than a celebration. Ethan?”

I push my hair from my eyes and look at him. “Ethan is a dickhead.”

“That’s quite a common phrase for you to use about men. Are there any guys you know who aren’t dickheads?”

“Not many.”

“Me?”

“Don’t really know you.”

Nate’s silent for a few moments until he quietly says, “I guess not.”

“And yes.”

“Yes?”

“Can you help me upstairs? But that’s all!”

Nate crosses and pulls me upright. Ohmigod, the stairs are steeper than I remember. A laughing Nate walks up the stairs behind me and holds a hand to catch me each time I trip backwards. Why did this have to be him? I’ve ruined the image I’ve portrayed to him as a sensible, in control girl.

My bed has never looked this inviting and I flop backwards onto it. Nate sits on the edge and drags my shoes off before placing my feet on the bed. “What did he do?”

“Who?”

“Ethan.” I bury my face in the pillow, away from the hurt and humiliation. “Was he with another girl?”

I twist my head around to squint at Nate. “Why?”

“He’s looks like that kind of guy.”

“What kind of guy?”

“Nothing. I’m a hypocrite.”

I’m too drunk for this conversation. “Yeah.” I fumble around for the edge of the duvet, desperate to hide under it and not continue a conversation I can barely keep up with.

“He’s a douche.”

“We established that,” I mumble.

“Chicks like you don’t deserve guys like him.”

I roll over, hair splaying across the pillow as I look up at my pierced and tattooed knight in shining armour. “And you, Nate Rock Star, do chicks deserve you?”

In the dim of the room, Nate’s expression is shadowed but his eyes are focused on me. “Yeah, Fleur, I’m a douche with women too. But, you know what? If a girl like you thought she was mine, I’d be fucking lucky. And I wouldn’t screw her over.”

“That’s sweet,” I say and turn over again, fighting the nauseous spinning of the room.

****

WILL

Fleur grapples with the duvet and it slides to the floor. With a sigh, I pick the duvet back up and place it over her. She’s a mess and her make-up has run around her eyes. Has Mr. Perfect made her cry? Is this what I’ve done to girls before? I grit my teeth.

“I don’t feel good.” she says.

“You don’t look good.”

She mumbles something and I can’t hear; I shuffle further along the bed and look down at her. “What?”

“I have a rock star in my bedroom.” She giggles and pushes hair from her face, attempting to focus on me.

“Yeah, don’t sell your story to the papers though.”

Fleur lifts a hand and attempts to point at me. “Something I wonder about.”

“Yeah?”

“Piercings. Do you have them other places?”

“A few.”

“Can I see?”

I arch a brow. “You’re not seeing them all.”