Desperately Devastated (Addicted To You, Book Nine)

Desperately Devastated (Addicted To You, Book Nine)
by Lucy Covington

Copyright 2013, all rights reserved.

LINDSAY

After Justin left my room, the only thing I could think about was when I would hear from him again. I had no idea who could have texted him to make take off so quickly like that. Was it Gil? Someone from his gym? Brooklyn? It was the last one that bothered me the most, and I hated myself for it.

When I still hadn’t heard from him by midnight, my mind started to spin elaborate plots about the two of them. That it wasn’t over between them, that he realized that no one could understand him like she could, that he left my dorm room and went right to her apartment where she was somehow able to break down his walls, the walls I seemed to never be able to penetrate.

I finally heard from him at two in the morning.

Dinner tomorrow?

I stared at the text incredulously. A few hours ago he’d been telling me about how the FBI had come to his apartment, wanting him to turn snitch on his gym. Then he’d taken off. And now all he had to say for himself was “dinner tomorrow?” It was infuriating.

Even so, I texted him back.

Yes.

I knew I should have demanded answers, that I should have asked him what (or who) had caused him to run out of my room so fast. But I couldn’t. I was afraid that if I pushed too hard I would lose him. And the only thing worse than Justin not letting me in was not being with him at all.

I fell into a restless sleep, and when I woke up the next morning, I was late for class. I threw my hair into a messy ponytail, pulled on a pair of yoga pants and a long-sleeved purple t-shirt, and headed for the main campus.

Surprisingly, I was able to focus without too many problems, and when classes were over, I decided to walk to the Barnes and Noble at Harvard Square and see if I could track down my organic chemistry study guide. I was still spooked over the fact that I’d bombed my psychology quiz -- I needed to get my focus back. My first organic chemistry test was coming up soon, and I still hadn’t purchased the study guide – when I’d bought my books at the beginning of the semester, it had been on back order.

As soon as I walked into the bookstore, I spotted a familiar figure sitting in the café.

Carter.

He was hunched over his computer, fingers flying. Every single seat in the café was taken, but Carter was sitting alone at a table for four, papers and binders spread out around him. I hesitated, wondering if I should go over and talk to him. I was still hurt about how he’d acted toward me the other day, even though I knew I shouldn’t be.

Carter had been right –it was totally unprofessional for Adam to be sending flowers to the science office. Yes, I’d had no idea Adam was going to do that. But still. I should have had my personal life under control. At least enough so that it wasn’t interfering with my work.

I watched Carter for another moment, then made my way over to his table.

“Is this seat taken?” I asked.

“You can have the chair,” he said, waving his hand and not looking up. “But I’m not moving tables. I’m sorry, but I need the space.”

I sat down and waited for him to realize it was me.

“Oh,” he said when he finally looked. “It’s you.” His tone was completely neutral, not giving me any hint as to whether or not it was okay that I was there.

“Yeah,” I said. “It’s me. Sorry to interrupt.” I twisted my fingers together in my lap. Now that I had his attention, I wasn’t sure what I wanted to say.

“No, it’s fine.” Carter sat back and rolled his shoulders around, like he was trying to work out a cramp or a kink. “I needed a break anyway.”

“Whatcha working on?”

“A powerpoint for Dr. Klaxton.”

“For a lecture?” Dr. Klaxton had never used a PowerPoint in one of his lectures before, and so I was instantly on alert. A new teaching technique could mean a test or any number of things.

“No.” Carter shook his head. “I wish. It’s for the kickoff meeting tomorrow in New York.”

“The kickoff meeting?”

“Yeah. It’s this big meeting with the drug company who’s sponsoring the study we’re working on. All these executives and doctors get together to talk about the first phase of the study. The results were so good that they’re ordering another round of treatment.”

“Oh, wow, “ I said. “That’s such great news.”

“Definitely. But now I have to get this powerpoint done by tomorrow and it’s nowhere near ready. Klaxton is driving me crazy with changes every second.” Carter held up his phone. “He keeps emailing me, then texting me to make sure I’m getting his emails.”

“I’ll help,” I said immediately. “I’m awesome with powerpoint.” It was true.

Last year after I’d maxed out my senior schedule with AP classes, I filled in the blanks with a computer class. And I’d learned how to use Powerpoint, Photoshop, and Excel like nobody’s business.

“Thanks,” Carter said. “But it’s not really like that. There are going to be changes up until the last minute. I’m leaving for New York tonight, and I’ll be working on this nonstop until tomorrow morning.”

“Oh.” I swallowed. “Well, I could help you now.”

He shook his head again. “It’s kind of a one man job. Besides, I should probably get out of here, anyway.” He looked over to where a couple of women were standing in the corner, waiting for a table and shooting daggers at us. “Too many distractions.”

I wasn’t sure if he was talking about the people wanting his table, me interrupting him, or both.

“Okay.” I stood up and played with the strap of my bag. “Carter – “

“I’ll see you later.” He shoved his laptop into his bag and brushed by me, heading for the door of the bookstore.

I just stood there for a moment, marveling at how I’d managed to screw things up so badly. Obviously he was still mad at me. I wondered if he really didn’t need any help, or if he just didn’t want any help from
me.

“Excuse me,” one of the women who’d been waiting for a table asked. “Are you going to be sitting here? It’s a four-person table, you know. It’s not meant for
one.”

“I was just leaving,” I said.

I’d planned to maybe hang out and study a little bit, but the store was so crowded that after I’d paid for my study guide, I started to head back toward the dorms.

I was out of the store and about to cross the street when I saw Carter standing on the corner. He’d stopped to listen to a man playing the saxophone. The man had a long gray beard, and he was playing his little heart out. Unfortunately, he wasn’t that good.

The music sounded like a cat was dying. I watched as Carter reached into his pocket and tossed a dollar bill into the man’s open saxophone case.

It was a sweet gesture, and it reminded me of something important -- Carter was
nice.
I remembered how he’d taken care of me the day I almost fainted, the way he’d made sure my essay had gotten to Dr. Klaxton, how he’d listen to me complain about Justin.

Before I knew it, I was running down the street after him.

“Carter!”

He turned around. When he saw it was me, he sighed. “Hey.”

“Hey.” I took a deep breath. “Listen, I don’t want things to be weird between us.”

“They’re not.”

“Obviously they are.” I readjusted my bag on my shoulder. “I’m sorry I was unprofessional. And I really hate that you were the one that had to deal with it. I shouldn’t have put you in that position.”

“Look, Lindsay, it’s not a big deal. It’s just that anything you do reflects on me. I vouched for you. I’m pretty much in charge of you. And if Dr. Klaxton had seen those flowers there, well…” He trailed off.

“I get it.” And I did get it. Dr. Klaxton was not the kind of man who’d take something like that as a funny little incident. He’d think it was ridiculous, and he’d be pissed that anything had happened to distract us from our work. From what I could tell, Dr. Klaxon didn’t like to think that anyone had a life outside of school. He perceived it as weakness.

“So we’re cool?” Carter asked. He sounded sincere, but he was glancing over his shoulder, like he was desperate to get away from me. A weird feeling of panic welled up inside of me. Suddenly it felt vitality important that I prove myself to him. Not just that he forgive me, but that I do something to prove how helpful I could be to him.

“Let me go with you,” I blurted.

“What?”

“Let me go with you. To New York. I can help.”

He shook his head. “I’m leaving tonight. The kickoff meeting is tomorrow.”

“So?”

“So it doesn’t make sense.”

“Why not? You need help. I can help you. Do you think Klaxton would go for it?”

He sighed. A breeze blew up and ruffled his hair. “I don’t know. You’d need a plane ticket.”

“I can get a plane ticket. Just send me the flight information.”

“That’s not how it works. The science department has to pay for everything so they can work it into the research budget at the end of the year.” But he was pulling his iPad out of his bag and scrolling through his email. “It’s Flight 2985. Out of Boston tonight.”

“I’ll book it,” I said. “You tell Klaxton. And the science department can reimburse me later.” I had no idea how much a flight from Boston to New York was going to cost, especially on such short notice. But I had a credit card my parents had given me for emergencies, and if this wasn’t an emergency, I wasn’t sure what was. I mean, my whole academic future was on the line here. Or at least my reputation.

“You sure?” Carter was looking at me skeptically.

“I’m sure.”

“Okay.” He grinned, and just like that, the tension between us dissipated. “I’ll text you what time the car service is picking us up for the airport.”

My mouth went dry. “Is Klaxton riding over with us?”

Carter laughed. “No way. He takes a limo.”

I nodded. “Figures.” I brushed my hair out of my face. “Well, I guess I should probably go pack.”

“Okay,” Carter nodded. “I’ll see you a little later.”

“See ya.” I turned and started to walk away. Holy crap! I was going to New York City. Tonight. I’d never been to New York City. What was I supposed to wear?

My thoughts started to swirl and I resisted the urge to turn and start running back to my dorm room. No way I wanted to be seen as so uncool that I would just start running down the streets of Harvard Square.

“Lindsay!” Carter called after me.

I turned around. “Yeah?”

He smiled. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” I smiled back.

And then I thought, screw it. I turned around and started to run.

***

When I got back to the dorms, Rachel was dying her hair.

In our room.

Bottles and potions were lined up on her desk, and there was a bowl filled with a thick blue paste sitting on the floor. Rachel was sitting down there next to it. Her hair was piled up on her head, and she was painting the paste onto it with a small brush.

“Hey!” she said brightly when she saw me. “I’m dying my hair!”

“Yeah, I see that.” I set my bag down gently on my desk chair. “But, um, shouldn’t you be doing that in the bathroom?”

“I
was
doing it in the bathroom,” she said. “But that awful girl from down the hall came in and was giving me a hard time. You know, the one who’s always trying to cut the line in the cafeteria and wears those One Direction shirts ironically even though no one knows that?” She rolled her eyes. “Can you believe her? I mean, it’s not like I wasn’t going to clean up my mess. But I think I should be nice to her, because she’s obviously been through something traumatic, don’t you think? Otherwise she wouldn’t be so awful.”

“Yeah,” I said. “Definitely.” I had no idea who she was talking about. I also wasn’t sure why Rachel thought it was okay to be dying her hair right in our room when obviously she was making a mess. But I wasn’t going to refute her. We had just made up and if she wanted to dye her hair and wreck our room in the process, then I was more than happy to let her.

“There!” Rachel finished painting her hair with the dye and stood up. A blob of paste fell off of her head and landed on the floor. “Oops,” she said and then bent down and wiped it up. She straightened back up and looked at herself in the mirror. “How do you think I’ll look as a redhead?”

“Hot.” I sat down at my desk and opened my laptop. I pulled out my phone and looked at the text Carter had sent me on my way over here, the one that gave me my flight details for tonight. “How come you’re dying your hair red, anyway?” I knew there had to be a reason. Rachel didn’t do things just to do them. Her sudden desire to change her appearance probably had something to do with an article she’d read, or some mythological creature that had inspired her.

“Because Adam likes redheads.”

“Oh.” I tried not to let her see my surprise, and instead kept my voice calm as I began googling flight prices. “So listen,” I said. “I’m going to be going to New York City for a couple days.”

“Really?” Rachel pulled a tissue out of the box on her dresser and wiped away a drip of dye that had fallen onto her forehead. It left a maroon looking stain on her skin.

“For what?”

“For a kickoff meeting for the next stage of Dr. Klaxton’s study.”

“Oh, that’s awesome!” She peered at herself in the mirror. “Do you think this stain is going to come off my forehead?”

“Oh, I’m sure it will.” They wouldn’t sell hair dye that stained people’s skin, would they? There had to be, like, regulations.

“I hope so.” She wiped at her forehead with her hand but it didn’t seem to do anything about the dark red smudge. “You don’t think this is the color my hair’s going to be, do you?” She picked up the empty box of hair dye and showed it to me. On the front, a girl with gorgeous auburn curls smiled a perfect smile. “This is how it’s supposed to look. Not dark red.”

“I’m sure it’ll be fine. It probably looks different on skin than it does on hair.”

“Yeah.” Her iPhone started playing a tune from where it was laying on her bed, and Rachel’s eyes lit up. “That’s my timer,” she said. “Time to go wash this stuff off.”

She headed for the door, then turned around and blew me a kiss. “Next time you see me, I’ll be a redhead.”

“Good luck,” I called as she disappeared into the hallway.

I turned back to my computer, located the flight I needed and booked it. I sent Carter a text.

All booked! Send car details when you can.

Now all I had to do was figure out what I was going to wear to this thing. I was assuming it was very businesslike. I did have some dressy clothes that I’d brought with me, but I wasn’t sure if any of them were professional enough. I couldn’t look like I was going to some high school formal. The people at the kickoff meeting were going to be high-powered executives and doctors. And while there was no way I was going to be able to compete with the Gucci and Prada they were sure to be wearing, I could at least make sure I didn’t look like a kid.

I pawed through the back of my closet where I’d hung my semi-nice clothes. I sighed as I pulled out a black dress. It was cute, but it was from Forever 21. Something told me that wearing Forever 21 to a kick off meeting for a new study for an actual drug that could be on the market wasn’t really going to fly.

I wondered if maybe Rachel had something I could wear.