ADORA - PRESENT DAY

Despite my conversation with Elaine earlier today, I feel better now that Graham's body is in the ground. The campus is still buzzing with theories, but at least now I think the cops aren't taking any of it seriously.

Consequences are here nonetheless. La Vie Club doesn't want anything to do with me, girls in my house avoid me like the plague, and I've been uninvited from multiple social gatherings in the next two months.

I'm not complaining, though. I can't stand half of these people anyway. The only reason why I wanted to be a member of La Vie is because my mother thought things like that were important.

Also, my roommate moved out. Which is quite convenient.

I push the key into the lock and realise my room is unlocked. My heart skips a beat. I always lock the damn door, especially since I've been hiding some of Eric's stuff.

I push the door open and almost die of a heart attack when I see Eric Slade leaned against my table, reading my behavioural economics homework.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" I hiss and close the door quickly; afraid someone might see him.

Eric lifts his dark gaze off the paper, "You're hand writing everything."

Mellow, dark pink hues colour the room. Eric looks mesmerizing in the twilight light, almost dreamlike. Heat trails down my spine. I've imagined this. I've imagined him showing up in my room unannounced, looking over me the way he is now, with fire and need in his eyes.

"Yeah, so?" I push the thoughts down and snatch my homework from his hands. Our fingers touch briefly.

Eric shrugs, "Thought you'd be a laptop kind of girl."

"Takes longer to write, so you have to think about the sentence more." I say. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm here to get my drugs." Eric pushes himself off my table and looks down at me. "And to see whether you've managed to find my gun."

"You broke into my room." A whisper falls off my lips.

"You left it unlocked." Eric says. "Where is my gun?"

I realise he just might be right. I've gotten eerily used to leaving my room unlocked when the construction workers traversed in and out.

"I don't know." I answer. "But it doesn't matter anymore."

"It doesn't matter?" Eric chuckles. "What if the police-"

"Eric." I sigh. "It's been two weeks, no one has talked to us. You're safe."

He's too close to me, I feel the warmth of his body, I remember the taste of his lips on mine. God, this man is going to be the end of me.

"You've been avoiding me." Eric ignores my remark. "It's hurting my feelings."

I swallow the lump of excitement in my throat. I've been avoiding him. Avoiding him has been easier than dealing with this... relationship. Plus, Mark has been acting suspicious, even without the whole Graham ordeal.

"I haven't." I lie and turn away from him, I need to busy my hands. "I've had exams."

"It's been two weeks." Eric doesn't give me space; he knows how he affects me. "I called."

A frustrated sigh leaves my lips, "What do you want me to say?"

"I want you to talk to me." The usual playfulness disappears from his voice.

He's too close to me, I can feel his breath on the back of my neck. I lean back and feel his strong body behind me. The smell of aftershave and weed lingers around him. It's intoxicating.

"About?" I play dumb, because I can't handle reality.

That's the one thing I haven't thought about when I kissed him. Our playful flirtation game only exists until we cross the line. The game is now done and we're gambling with way higher stakes.

Our relationship, the one we've had before, is gone. This strange, tense thing blossoms in its place. And nothing can be the way it used to.

"This." Eric places his hands on my waist and plants a kiss on the nape of my neck.

The dress I have on feels too thin, even the light touch over the fabric turns my world upside down. A shudder travels down my back, through my limbs, between my legs.

"I want you." He nibs my earlobe and pulls up the hem of my dress. "All the time, everywhere, every way."

I turn around and kiss him. Eric's hands leave my dress and entangle in my hair. His stubble scratches my skin, his teeth graze my lips. It's different this time, more urgent, more demanding. I peel his leather jacket off him and run my fingers up and down his biceps.

Eric nudges me backwards, until my knees bump against the bed. My heart is beating in my chest, rushing me, urging me.

Right as I'm about to drop on the bed, Eric stops, "Wait, wait."

My breathing is quick and shallow, "What?"

"I came here to talk." He steps away from me and it feels like someone threw a cold bucket of water over me.

His distance sobers me up.

Fuck. I did it again.

"We need to talk, Adora." Eric walks to my table and sits on the office chair.

I sit on the bed, "Alright, talk."

I don't want to talk. Talking means addressing whatever's happening and that's not what I want to do. It's either kissing him again or never seeing him again.

Those are my two options.

Eric takes a long time to start talking and when he finally does, the entire atmosphere shifts. The calm, dreamlike vibe turns serious and gloomy.

"I can't do this anymore." He breathes out. "Not like this. I think... I think I'm going to tell Mark."

"What?" I'm up before I manage to process. Every nerve ending in my body goes wild. "Are you crazy? Don't even joke about it."

But he just shakes his head, "I have to tell him."

I'm in front of him in a second, "Don't you dare. Eric, you can't-"

"Not about you." Eric cuts me off, his dark eyes glaze over me. "I won't tell him about... this."

Confusion settles inside me, "Then... what would you tell him?"

Eric is still sitting on my chair, staring at the ground, "That I want you. And I can't be around you anymore, I can't hang out with you."

Guilt gnaws at me.

"You don't..." I don't know how to approach this, I'm not even sure I completely understand what he's trying to say. "You don't have to stop hanging out with Mark. I mean, we can pretend like this never happened."

I know it's a lie, but the alternative is too hard to handle right now.

Gosh, I really fucked this one up.

"Alright," Eric turns the chair to me. "We have three options."

I don't think I'm ready for this conversation.

"Alright." My voice lowers on its own and I pull up my legs on the bed, feeling strangely small.

"First, we continue doing what we're doing." Eric lets out a sigh. "Which is not an option."

To be totally frank, there is a part of me that kind of maybe wants to continue doing what we're doing. It's a selfish, malicious part of me, and I understand it's not, nor it should be, an option.

"Or we stop." I continue. "And we never do it again."

"Which basically means we can never see each other again." Eric says.

If we ever see each other again, we'll do it again.

I hug my knees and lean against the wall. The familiar fear flows through my veins. The thought of never seeing him again fills me with dread. I stare at my feet and the pink socks with tiny, white flowers.

"Adora?"

I lift my gaze, "Yes?"

His eyes are fixated on me, his expression questioning, "Do you want to never see me again?"

There are so many things I should be taking into account now, like the number of people this relationship can hurt, all the consequences we haven't yet addressed, and the sheer wrongness of what we did.

Yet all I can think about is this overwhelming dread.

"What's the third option?" I ask without answering his question.

Eric looks away. Something tense is etched into the crease between his brows. It feels weird seeing him like this, it feels like seeing him for the first time.

Everything that's happened goes through my head, all the mistakes I've made in the past month. Eric feels like a mistake the least, yet I don't know what to do. None of the options sound appealing.

When he finally speaks, he doesn't look at me.

"You leave him."

My heart misses a beat, "What?"

"Leave Mark." Eric's dark eyes land on me, deep, piercing, protruding. "And be with me."

Words are stuck in my throat. Air won't pass through.

Eric suddenly laughs, like he's brushing it off, "But that's not an option either, is it? You're not going to leave Mark."

I bite my lower lip, "Do you really want to be with me?"

"You're deflecting." Eric chuckles. "But yeah, I think I do."

"Why?"

He looks at me and shrugs, "Because you're kind of badass, and you're clever." Another small laugh escapes his lips. "You're also really rude and it's turning me on beyond belief. And you're just a little crazy."

I grin despite myself, "Not the best traits to like."

"Never said they were good traits." A small, cute smile makes him look younger.

When it disappears, I feel guilty.

"I know you're not going to leave him." He speaks. "I know he's a better catch than I am and you'd be stupid to leave him for me."

He's right. Eric is a part of my imagination, a dirty fantasy that I decided to live through for a while. But in reality, he's not someone I should be with.

"Why aren't you mad at me?" I ask.

Eric shrugs, "It's my own fault I expected more. I knew you were with Mark and I knew you wouldn't leave him."

"What happens now?" I whisper, not sure how to feel.

I know I'm coming off as a villain right about now. Maybe I am, or I'm a coward. Either way, it's like eating an entire cake by yourself. It happens in the spur of the moment and you feel guilty after. Doesn't mean you're giving up on your diet, or that you're going to repeat it.

Eric is my cake. Mark is my diet.

As I wait for his answer, I think about why I did it in the first place. I was dissatisfied, horny and in desperate need to ruin something, which during that night, happened to be my relationship.

However, the reason I keep on doing it is somewhat different.

The reason I keep doing it is that all I can think about is him. Each time in the past two weeks when my phone rang and displayed his name, I felt like I might die if I don't see him.

"I can't keep doing this." Eric stands up and walks to the door.

I don't stop him, there's no point.

He hesitates for a moment, and I wonder if he's going to ask for his drugs. I don't remind him on purpose, very much aware he'll have to see me again if he wants them back.

"I'll talk to Mark." He says instead. "And you never have to see me again."

He reaches for the door handle.

"Eric..."

His knuckles turn white on the door handle, and he faces me one more time, "What?"

"You should leave out of the window." I say.

Eric chuckles, but there's no humour in his tone, "Now I'm mad."

"Good."

He yanks the door open, but his dramatic exit is cut in half; he stops and frowns, "Who are you?"

I jump from my bed.

Josh fucking Wright is standing in front of my door, fist up, ready to knock, "Uh, hello."

His beach blonde hair is dishevelled and uncombed. There's an aura of instability around him which I assume has always been there, even when he was rich. He's trying too hard. Every single clothing item on him is a designer brand. It's kind of pathetic.

"What the fuck?" I spit out.

Josh's glance escapes from me to Eric and back, "I need to talk to you."

"Why?" I let out an exasperated sigh. "Why would you possibly need to talk to me?"

Josh seems uncomfortable, "Can I come in?"

"If you must." I step away from the door.

Eric still lingers in the room, and when I offer him a questioning look, he drops back on my chair, "I'm not going anywhere right now."

"Fine." I slam the door shut behind them. "Good fucking thing my roommate chose not to live with a murder suspect. What do you want?"

"It's about Elaine." Josh is still nervously glancing at Eric.

Maybe he's afraid of him. I'd be afraid of Eric if I were a guy. In comparison, Eric is taller and stronger. There's a look in his eyes, one that promises he can beat the shit out of anyone, which is on some fucked up level turning me on.

"Who's Elaine?" Eric asks.

I sigh, "Remember the 'nerd' part in the 'bitch and the nerd?'"

"Wait, you know who's the nerd?" Eric leans against his knees. "That's not good, Adora. Not from the police perspective, anyway."

I ignore him, "What about Elaine?"

Josh swallows, "Everyone knows."

"I like you too little to allow you to be cryptic and mysterious." I put my hand on my hip. "Spit it out."

Josh briefly looks at Eric, "Everyone knows she's pregnant."

Everything I've been thinking about up until that moment disappears. As if on autopilot, I go through my bag and find my phone. Just as I suspected, dozens of messages decorate my screen. My heart pounds in my chest as I find Elaine's name and call her.

"Uh," Eric looks at me, "What's going on?"

I put my finger up while I listen to the incessant rings in my ear. She's not picking up.

"What's wrong?" Josh asks. "I only came here because I saw your messages on her phone. I don't know-"

"Are you stupid?" I put the phone down, realising Elaine won't answer.

Josh offers a confused look.

"Seriously, though?" I'm way too close to hitting him. "Are you mentally impaired?"

His voice is low, "What did I do?"

"You found out everyone knows she's pregnant and you came to talk to me?!" It's done, I snap. "She's a suicide risk, you stupid idiot! I swear to God, the higher the education, the dumber the people."

"Adora," Eric cuts in, "What's going on?"

"Come on. We need to find Elaine." I grab my bag, find my car keys and throw them to Eric. "My driver will be outside in a few minutes, take his car and meet us in front of Widener Library."

"What? Why?" Eric grabs the keys. "What about my bike?"

"Robert will keep it safe. Josh, you keep calling her until she answers." I grab my coat and put it on.

"Where are we going?" Eric raises his eyebrow; he knows I know we have some unfinished business here.

I shrug, "Do you mind breaking up with me tomorrow?"

For the longest moment, Eric just stares at me, "Alright, fuck it."

"Oh, and Josh?" I call him, Josh looks up from his phone. "If you tell anyone you saw Eric Slade in my room today, Graham won't be the only dead prick on Harvard grounds."