“You’re gorgeous, you know that?” I murmur, reaching for her again, but my feet don’t cooperate. I stumble, swaying hard enough that the room tilts with me, the presence at my back suddenly gone.
“Ty?” I mumble, confused.
“Jace?” Missy appears again. Her voice dips softer, sweeter. Like fucking velvet. Like the opening of a love song. “I think we should go for a walk. I want to go outside. Just a little fresh air, okay? Will you come with me?” Then a harsh: “Bowie!”
I try to frown, but my face won’t work right. “Are you okay?”
“I am,” she says gently, just as Bowie appears at her side. His arm slides around my waist like it's nothing, like we do this every day, and starts steering me toward the exit. “But I think you’re not,” she finishes behind me.
And as the club lights smear into smudges and the music fades behind us, I stop trying to make sense of what’s happening.
Because my body is getting heavier.
And nothing feels real.
And something is very, very wrong.
Or is everything just very, very right?
All I know is that we’ve left, and that’s the opposite of right, right?
FIFTEEN
“Whatthehellisgoing on?” I snap as I slam my locker shut and tighten the iron grip on my phone. The high from the practice game win is already gone, wiped out by the twenty missed calls from Missy lighting up my screen. “Is Jace alright? Can I talk to him? Why did you call me so many times? Where is he?!”
“Ty,” Missy says, way too calm for my liking. “I need you to be Quarterback Tyler King right now, okay? Can you do that for me? I need you to be calm and collected, focused and centered. Can you please get into that zone right now?”
“Iwascalm, ten fucking minutes ago!” I rub a towel over my freshly showered hair, pacing the space between the lockers until I drop onto the bench, elbows on my knees, another towel wrapped around my hips. My hand digs into my scalp as my chest tightens. “Please tell me what happened? You’re scaring me.”
We only have five more days. Four, technically, since me and the boys are definitely going to the final show in LA. I’ve been holding onto that like a fucking lifeline, and I’mnotready for bad news.
“We’ve got it handled,” she says, hesitating. “But I don’t know—”
“Christ, Missy.Just spill it!” My voice comes out sharper than I mean to, and Lamar frowns at me while Rafa blinks, pausing mid-step, duffle slung over his shoulder.
“Missy?” Rafa asks, hazel eyes wide. “LikeMissyMissy?”
Tuck nudges him toward the exit. Since me and Lam were the last to get back in because we were busy doing captain stuff and reviewing the practice game with the coaches, we’re the only ones left now.
And that’s when she says it. “Jace had drugs.”
I swear my heart fuckingstops.
“Hewhat?”
Lamar, halfway through throwing on pants, jerks his chin at me to put her on speaker. I do, just as she continues.
“Had drugs, accidentally, I think it’s GHB,” she repeats, voice low. “Please don’t panic. He’s safe. Me and Ava had Bowie bring him back to the bus from the club. But he’s been asking for you non-stop. And he’s just… Well…”
“Wait,what? Is he really okay? What is he doing?” I switch the call to video, needing toseewhat the fuck is going on.
She’s in what appears to be Ava and Asher’s bedroom, and she gives a hesitant smile when her face pops up.
“Well, ah… he just got rid of his shirt and shoes. He’s working on his pants now…” She turns the camera—and holyshit, there he is. On the fucking bed, caressing his own damn chest and writhing atop the sheets like he’s rehearsing content for an OnlyFans account.
My cheeks burn instantly.
“I thought it was molly at first,” she says, turning the camera back to her. “But the way he keeps asking us to touch him, the way he wants to touch us, how his eyes keep drooping and his body’s moving all slow and heavy? I’m pretty damn sure it’s GHB, liquid ecstasy. In small amounts, it lowers your inhibitions and, well… ”
