I check my phone for the umpteenth time.

Still nothing from Tariq.

His practice should've been long over by now and he had no PT or AA meetings tonight... So where is he?

I've called.

Texted.

Nothing.

I take out my phone and send him another text.

Me: I'm standing here waiting for you. You promised to be here. WHERE ARE YOU? You know how important this is to me.

I'm frustrated, yes, but mostly worried. Something is off. There's no way Tariq would do this to me. No, I'm still not his girlfriend, but he sure treats me like it. Especially after his game last night. I had stepped out of my comfort zone for him and into his world of hockey, which is why I asked him to be my date for my mandatory scholarship dinner

The cold wraps around my not properly clothed body for such a chilly night. I stand there in my red velvet dress, my shoulders exposed, my black tights so thin they're unable to combat the cold, impatiently tapping the back of my heels hoping Tariq shows.

After fifteen minutes of waiting, I go in, sending him a quick text to let him know I'm done waiting. I search and find my seat at a table with about eight other people. They all give me a polite greeting to go back to chatting with their dates.

Awkward.

I don't talk to anyone as I sit there with my phone hidden in my lap, my texts staring at me, unanswered. The banquet is taking forever and my dinner is untouched as this gnawing feeling takes over me. It's as if something has burrowed inside of me and is chewing on my bones.

This is not like him.

The air around me is thick and my constant tapping is starting to drive my tablemates nuts. I try to redirect my thinking. Thanksgiving is fast approaching, which means I'll be knee-deep in packing up, going through stuff, and taking things to the shelter for the holiday. And as luck would have it, that will be the time my period hits, which will make the process that much more painful. There will be a lot of sobbing, screaming, and Celine Dion. I excuse myself to go to the bathroom to get a second to breathe.

But instead of my feet taking me there, I'm pushing the foyer door open and walking out into the cold night. I'm in my car, turning the key in the ignition as my arms shake and nerves pound in my veins. Call it a gut feeling, or divine intervention, the holy spirit telling me something is wrong, or some college girl being paranoid, but I'd rather check on him to make sure he's alright than sit in that banquet hall waiting for a text that might never come.

By the time I pull into his driveway, I'm trembling all over and my mind is racing with all the things that could be wrong. All the guys' vehicles are there and the lights are on. I open the door and slowly get out of my car, saying a quick prayer, hoping I'm wrong...

God, please let him be okay.

Please let him be okay.

My walk over to his egress window is slow, torturous. My heels dig into the ground and I have to use every ounce of my wobbly strength to rip them out with each step as loud voices come from downstairs.

Slowly, I take one step at a time down to the window, my legs weak and my heart in my throat, pulsing in my brain and ears. My breathing is shaky and when I hit the last step I lean over and...

Tariq is there, shouting, red-faced, perspiring... and drunk.

He can barely stand and Rasheed tries to grab the large bottle in Tariq's hand and Tariq pushes him so hard into the wall, I swear it was going to leave a dent in the drywall.

My breath catches in my throat, realizing I'm witnessing the Tariq Araneo back when he had just been that guy in my bio class.

"I'm going to call Cass," Tariq sloppily says, my heart cracking like porcelain.

Rasheed whips over, undeterred by Tariq's violence, snatching the phone from Tariq. "You'll regret that and you know it!"

"Who then? Elodie? I don't deserve her! Don't you see that!"Tariq yells so loud that my senses kick in.

It starts with one smack of my hands against the window. The action causes a needle-like pain to prick my palms and vibrate through my arms. But I don't care as I go berserk, banging my hands on the glass, loud, authoritative, demanding entrance. Beau, Winston, and Rasheed look over and all of them are still, not knowing what to do.

"Let me in, you idiots!"

Tariq's big frame appears in the window, making me jerk back a little. His drunk fevered eyes take me in, his body is tense all over, not loose as I would expect from someone in the process of wasting themselves away on alcohol.

He has bags under his bloodshot eyes, clothes more rumpled than usual, glossy black hair and black beard a mess. His dark, caramel, olive skin, has a grey undertone to it.

And yet still, he's the most beautiful man I have ever seen.

The hurt and pain are being worn heavily on his usually carefree face, pulling and gripping onto his sharp features. My hand touches the cool glass right in line where his heart is.

"Let me in, Tariq."

We both know what I mean.

The silence is heavy and I watch as he contemplates his next move.

His thumb flicks out, popping the lock-up to give me entry. As soon as it opens, I'm hit hard with thick fumes of whiskey. Tariq gathers me into him and my arms wrap around him, clutching harder than the grief, hoping to show, it has no place with him anymore.

Rasheed and the guys look unsure of what to do. I know they don't want to leave me with Tariq like this, so I loudly ask him, "You won't hurt me, right, Tariq?"

His face digs into the crook of my neck. "I'd never hurt you."

Rasheed still seems unsure. "You scream if he tries anything."

I thought Tariq would get mad at that, but instead, he says through a thick throat, "Thank you, Rasheed."

The guys leave us and Tariq unwraps himself from me, going over to the wall, his back hitting it with him sliding down in a heap of exhausted, all-consuming pain. He covers his ragged face, breathing out, "You look really pretty."

I take in a deep breath and can't stop the hurt from whispering through my lips, "Not as pretty as Cass though."

His fingers tense on his face and he grumbles out, "Blue, to me you're the most beautiful woman in the world."

My skin prickles a little. "I don't know if I believe that."

His hand drops and he goes to get up, wobbly, unsteady on his feet as he uses the wall for support, the bottle still in his hand.

Is this really the same guy who had been on the ice last night?

He's about to fall, but my tiny hands stop him and for once, my tiny body is stronger than Tariq's. My little hands being the only thing from him meeting the floor.

"Do you know what those hands do to me?" he says darkly. "How when your big blue eyes turn to me, every single part of me burns for you."

"Then why did you want her?" I croak out, tears pricking my eyes but I bat them away.

"She's familiar, you're terrifying. How you make me feel is something I've never experienced before and I don't know how to deal with it."

Tears fall freely now, mascara probably smearing. "So you call her and have her in your bed."

His face twists into regret. "I'm sorry."

"What do you want from me, Tariq? You want me one day then push me away the next. You act like I'm actually your girlfriend and then almost call your ex to sleep with her. You don't tell me anything! I go to your game, step out of my comfort zone and you get drunk and are a no show at a very important event for me."

He can't even look at me and covers his face once again. "I can't do right by you. I'm a failure, Elodie. You'd be better off."

"Well, it's too late for that!" I practically yell.

It's quiet between us and my fist hits his chest. "Please, Tariq. Just let me in," I whisper.

When I peer up and my heart seizes, a sob, clawing, trying to come out at the sight. A single tear, falling from behind Tariq's hand that drips down his cheek. "I watched my best friend die right in front of me, too drunk to stop it, too drunk to help him."

My mouth is tense, trembling as I say, "Paul?"

"Him and Heather just started dating and he was crazy about her."

Everything is starting to click. "What happened? Why are you drinking, Tariq? You have to return your coin, start over now. What brought this on?"

"Today's his birthday," he croaks out. "I forgot about it. I was so happy with you and you filled every part of my brain, every part of me that I let slip out of my mind. I don't deserve happiness. I don't deserve the happiness you give me. Not when he can't be here with Heather. Not when he can't be breathing. All the plans we had for the future, erased along with him. He was my family, my brother. He was better than me in every way. He had his head on right, got good grades, worked hard on the ice, and went to church every week."

"What happened to him?" I ask, knowing what I'm about to learn is going to destroy me right along with him.

His hand won't move as his raw voice whispers out, "We were rushing at Alpha Tau Sigma our Sophomore year. He didn't really drink, I only saw him have one, but as the night went on it was clear he had too many. Both of us did. I had never been so drunk and out of my mind, even when I got myself wasted." He takes a deep breath, his muscles quivering. "We had to do stupid dangerous stuff and record ourselves doing it as proof to bring back and show them."

Tariq's big body crouches over, his hand not moving away from his face, blocking me from seeing the pain in his eyes, but I felt it, saw it in his convulsing body. "He had to run in the middle of traffic and dodge cars."

Ice-cold horror shoots through my veins and it takes everything for Tariq to say the next sentence. "I watched as a semi-truck bulldozed right into him. I'll never get that image out of my head."

He's sobbing now and my chest expands as I literally choke on the sobs that want to be released, but I know if I do, he'll lose that last bit of composure. "All I could do was scream and cry. I was too drunk to call the police and the guy driving the semi-truck had to."

He has so many tears sliding down and it's like a dam of grief opened up, pouring out of him. He couldn't even breathe, couldn't even suck in some oxygen as sadness bursts out of him. "I just want him back."

I break and hold him up with all my strength as he falls into me, his body weak, arm at his side, hand still gripping onto the glass handle. "Alpha Tau Sigma is to blame, not you. They knew what they were doing, getting you all wasted, and sending you out to do dangerous stuff, not in the right state of mind."

"We still made a choice," he rasps out.

"When did they give you the things to do?" I ask.

Tariq's grip on me tightens. "After."

There's nothing more to say and there's nothing I can do to help ease the pain except hold him up. It's such a grey area because he's right they had made the choice to drink and get plastered, but Alpha Tau Sigma shouldn't have given them things to do that could potentially kill them. It was negligent.

How is that frat still around?

Why are they allowed to still rush?

Tariq's body grows heavy and his shaking stops and he becomes a heap of exhaustion. "They blamed him, saying if he had been that drunk, he shouldn't have done the assignment given to him. The things people said. That I pushed him in front of it, that he did it on purpose. The only way I could face everything was getting blackout drunk and partying, numbing myself to it. I couldn't deal with him not standing by my side, or how I would want to say something to him, turning my head for him to not be there."

He lifts off of me, his back pressing against the wall, his other hand no longer covering up his dark tense eyes. He stares at the ground, weary from pain and loss. The invading wetness doesn't leave his eyes. "I'm sorry, Blue. I had used you when we first met and promised to protect, but I'm scared that I won't be able to."

My hand cups his cheek and when his eyes snap to mine, they are so filled with regret and longing as he looks at me. "I messed up."

"Yeah," I whisper. "But we all do."

"I'm not good for you."

I step into him, my body pressing into his. "Tariq, you have been the most stable thing in my life since my dad's death. You are and..." I take a deep breath, my chest tightening, my throat thick. "I'm in love with you."

I don't look in his eyes, my vision is set on the crook of his neck, my face brushing his beard, right at his jaw. The bottle finally slips from his fingers, dropping to the carpeted floor with a thud. His finger dips into my low bun and his mouth is on mine, his back pushing off the wall, making me stumble back as his arm catches me. His body caves around me, trapping me.

We breathe each other in, my mind gone as he kisses me, stealing my breath, pulling out whimpers from me, his beard burning my skin. It's rough, but a sloppy perfection and I meet his need for more with a burning desire. Our bodies crashing into each other, pressing hard and hard, stumbling, hitting pieces of furniture.

I'm dizzy, but it feels good. My stomach ties up in knots as his hands roam over me. The air shifts, tension dissipating as Tariq goes from harsh to slow, purposeful.

His hand cups my face, his other pushing my body into his, molding us, imprinting his muscles on me forever. Tears sleek down my cheeks as we continue our opened-mouth kisses, our tongues meeting every so often. My heart explodes as that pressure begins to unfold in me, curl, and consume every part of me.

As Tariq consumes every part of me.

I wasn't supposed to fall in love.

I wasn't supposed to fall in love with him.

But I did.

And there's no turning back from it.

I can't.

I want to be his focal point in this darkness.

We pull away from a moment, breaths mingling, a deafening silence coming between us. It's heavy, suffocating, and Tariq's eyes bore into me, asking, questioning. Slowly, unsurely, his lips touch mine. He doesn't move and hovers there. When my grip on him doesn't loosen, when my mouth doesn't open to reject him, his lips take mine.

His hands tracing up my sides.

His heart, beating hard against mine... as he takes everything from me.

And I don't object once.

So this was very hard for me to write emotionally. I lost a wonderful friend this way. He had been walking and went to cross wearing headphones and had been struck by a semi-truck. It was a horrible accident and when I had heard the news it was heartbreaking for me. He was such an amazing human being and my heart still hurts to this day and I miss him.

The truth is out about Paul and the issues with Alpha Tau Sigma.

Please let me know what you all think!

Guys this is only just the beginning of the drama to come. I hope I don't destroy you too much.

Much Love,

LivingRed