I scowled and wished we were not so close to Quinn’s parents' house. "I already told you there is nothing going on between us. She would like there to be and we've flirted in the past, but I have never been interested in her that way. Don't let her get in your head."
"It’s kind of hard not to when I walk in and find you two together this morning. You admit she has the hots for you and you two spent the entire night alone together," Quinn said.
"No. We were not alone. In fact, she spent most of the night hanging out with Jasper. He'll tell you all about it," I said.
Quinn opened her door just as I stopped the car at the end of the driveway. "Fine. I believe you. It’s just one more reason this is all too complicated for me right now."
Before I could say anything else, she shut the door and walked away. I drove home and ran up the steps to my apartment two at a time. Jasper was spinning on one of the kitchen stools and chatting with a few of his odd friends.
"Hey, there he is," Jasper said.
I jerked a thumb towards the hall. "Can I talk to you for a minute?"
He looked at his phone and jumped up. "Yeah, sure, buddy, but make it quick. We've got to get out of here."
His friends cleared up their stuff and headed towards the back stairwell. I watched them go.
"They parked out back. Checking out the best way to help me move," Jasper said. "So, what's up?"
"Did anything happen with you and Anya last night?"
"Oh, whoa. She's hot, but no. We just flirted. I thought when you disappeared that something might happen, but she crashed solo on the couch."
"Would you be willing to tell Quinn that?"
"Kill a little jealousy? Sure, man, whatever you need. I'll check in and call her later," he slapped my shoulder and disappeared down the back stairwell after his friends.
I walked back into my apartment and felt the hair on the back of my neck go up. Something was off. Jasper was going to be helpful with Quinn, but why was he in such a hurry to leave?
I shook off the feeling. I had been off all day. Ever since Mr. Thomas confronted me about breaking up with Sienna, I had felt jumpy. He had said what I had always felt sick about. I had broken up with Sienna and then she committed suicide. Was I to blame?
I replayed the rest of the day in my head. At the tournament, I had thought it best to stay away from Quinn. Not only was Mr. Thomas watching my every move, but he had to have told her about it on the car ride. Only later did I realize he had said nothing to Quinn. She was the only person that did not blame me for Sienna's suicide. And I had treated her badly.
I paced around the kitchen island. I had to tell her about what her father had said. It wasn't so much that he blamed me, but that he was right in thinking the timing of our break-up affected Sienna's decision. There was no good way to broach the idea that Quinn’s sister had died because I broke her heart.
Even as I thought about it, I knew it did not feel true. Sienna had not been broken-hearted over the break-up. Things had not been right with us for a while. But if Mr. Thomas was going to try to keep Quinn away from me, it was exactly the kind of accusation he would level against me.
I picked up the phone and dialed Quinn's number. It rang and rang before her voicemail picked up. I hung up and tried again. The third time it had not yet reached her voicemail when a heavy knock shook my door. I hung up the phone.
The police were back and they pushed their way into my apartment without a word. One of the uniformed men tossed me another search warrant and they started to take the place apart.
Like my life, I thought. Everything getting knocked out of place.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Quinn
I got in the door and was relieved to find both my parents were out. My father was meeting with a client in preparation for an upcoming trial. My mother had decided to indulge in a spa package in order to relax. All I needed to relax was a pizza and the quiet house.
The only problem was after I had ordered the pizza, all I could do was pace. I still felt the rush of adrenaline from the accident scene. It played over and over in my head and each time, I was amazed. My body had reacted before my brain caught up. Then, my mind worked faster and more fluidly than it ever had during class. I made decisions quickly, recalled what I had learned in first aid training, and it had all felt so natural.
When the phone rang, I was so distracted that I did not notice the unknown caller icon. "Hello?"
"Is this Quinn Thomas?" a cheerful male voice asked.
"I'm sorry, who is this?"
"My name is Evan. Is this the Quinn Thomas that used my mother's Hermes scarf as a sling?"