In The Next Room

Chapter 5

"Leo?" I asked, having to raise my voice over the loud crowds of people in his apartment. "Where did Locke go?"

Leo unlocked his lips from the girl's face, her lips moving into a pout as he pulled away. His eyes were glazed over, either from lust or from being drunk, and I was surprised when he gave me a legitimate answer.

"Locke? Baby, what are you doing here? Locke ran out of here looking for you." He broke contact with the girl completely, concern for his friend settling in. 

"Oh, God," I whispered, feeling sick to my stomach. The guilt I felt was almost overwhelming, knowing that I was the one who overreacted and now Locke was out searching for me, someone who didn't deserve to be looked for. "I think I'm going to be sick." I hunched over, gripping my stomach, knowing I was about to upchuck everything I drank earlier in the evening. Locke was right.

"Not here, not here, not here," Leo sprang up from his seat on the couch and led me out of the room, to a hallway, and into a bathroom. 

I immediately sank down and rid myself of everything in my stomach, Leo being the gentleman and holding my hair back for me. After I was finished purging myself, I leaned back against the cold tiled floor, welcoming the chills that the sensation had on my overheated skin. How was I going to explain this to Locke? 

Why did he have to mention piano?

To my surprise, Leo sank down on the floor next to me, and reached out to grasp my hand. He didn't look at me, just stared off into space to give me time, but he wanted to let me know that I wasn't alone. I hadn't said more than a few words to him, but he seemed to know exactly what I was thinking. 

"What happened?" he murmured after a minute or two, ignoring the impatient knocks on the door of the bathroom.

"I—" I started to open my mouth to spew another lie, but a loud, drunken voice boomed from the other side of the door. 

"Leo, I swear to god I'll piss on your couch if you don't get out of there, man. If you're with a girl, get a room."

Leo sighed, after his eyes flew open in alarm. I was surprised he seemed to have this much control over himself. I thought he had been drinking as heavily as I was. And I had managed to build up a pretty high alcohol tolerance over the course of the past two years. 

Standing up, he gripped my hand and led me out of the bathroom, and we ignored the whoops and catcalls as he led me to a bedroom at the end of the hall.

I took a seat on the bed, not caring who's it was. I needed to sit. My head was pounding, my vision was blurred, and I felt like I was drowning. I needed another drink. 

"No, Rowan," Leo muttered, running a hand through his hair. Oops. Leo fell back on the bed next to me, his legs bending at the knees and hanging off the mattress. "Now tell me why you ran off. And no lies."

"I—I'm sorry, Leo, I can't." Leo sat up, and I could see the flames ignite in his eyes, all rage and seriousness, and I couldn't lie. "My boyfriend," my voice cracked, as tears trickled out the corners of my eyes. 

Leo fell back against the bed, sighing. "Why didn't you tell him?"

"Locke? Why would I?"

"How did you keep your boyfriend hidden for so long? Oh, god, Locke is going to—"

"He's dead, Leo," I whispered, the tears streaming down my face. I didn't bother trying to wipe my tears. I would just make more to replace those I'd wiped away. "He's dead."

"When?" Now Leo's voice cracked, shock was evident in his voice. 

I leaned back on the bed beside him, unable to hold my head up any longer. Looking up, the bumpy texture of the ceiling was oddly interesting as I studied it, trying to avoid what I was going to say next. "Two years."