The Twilight series is the property of Stephenie Meyer - No copyright infringement is intended.

This entire fic is dedicated to JAustenlover.

Drown

~ * ~

Bella Swan

The room is filled with loud music and too many bodies – sweaty, drunk, dancing bodies – and one of them is mine.

I haven't seen Kate for what feels like hours, but I am barely aware of it. I'm barely aware of anything that isn't the loud music pulsing through the room and the large hands on my hips.

Lips brush my ear and utter, "It's too crowded. You wanna get out of here?" But I don't really care about that either.

The hands leave my hips and travel up my body, pulling me forward. Hot skin meets mine above the low back of my tank top and forms around my shoulder blades. I move closer to the owner of the hands even though it almost registers that it's too hot to be so close to anyone.

My hands are in the air, waving with the music, but as I move against the body in front of me, my movements are restricted, my arms no longer able to flail freely.

I wrap my arms around the long neck, much higher than mine but not so high that I can't curve my hands around the back of it and thread my fingers into the hair brushing over the t-shirt collar.

The lips are at my ear again, but are wordless this time as they trek their way down my jaw and across my upturned chin. Light breaths, cool against my skin, are almost refreshing before the lips leave my chin and press against my own.

Even as I open my mouth, I know that the music – almost hypnotic in beat – is making me do crazy things, is making me care less. The hands on my back grip more tightly, fingertips digging in.

The kiss, sudden to start, becomes intimate quickly, our tongues meeting and acquainting, getting down to business almost all at once. I run my hands as high as I can reach, massaging the scalp above the neck, below the too-long hair.

My own chest vibrates as the one against it rumbles. I dig my fingertips in deeper, mimicking the fingers on my back and the tongue in my mouth.

One of the hands on my skin starts to slide over and down. I'm getting hotter and become aware enough to realize I'm too hot, and I pull away – chest, stomach, hips – enough to let my body breathe. The moving hand on my back must see this as opportunity and finishes skittering across my skin and my thin top, and comes to rest on my breast.

I don't even try to stop myself from reacting. A slight twist of my body pushes my breast into the eager hand, which grasps for a moment and is gone. It returns seconds later but now it's pulling up the bottom of my top, sliding across my stomach and slipping long fingers into my bra.

I arch toward the hand but not enough to pull away from the lips and tongue exploring mine. My movement presses my hips forward again and this time I hear as well as feel the groan from the owner of the hand that rubs hard over my nipple.

My hips swing with the music and elicit another groan. The tongue in my mouth is more insistent as the hand on my back roams downward to grab my ass. The fingers in my bra tug down the lacy material until I feel air wash across my skin.

The music seems to be getting louder and the room is definitely getting hotter. Dim lights illuminate my closed eyelids and all I can do is feel: fingers, tongue, pulsing beat, hot skin.

All of the feeling is interrupted by a loud voice in my ear – a new voice – and a cold hand on my arm.

"Bella!"

I shrug my arm to shake off the hand but it doesn't go away, and the voice becomes more insistent.

"Bella!"

The fingers on my ass and in my bra have stopped moving. I turn my head to address the interruption that keeps saying my name, and abandoned lips graze my cheek.

"I'm busy, Kate." My eyes are still closed and I don't bother to open them. The hard chest in front of me is a nice place to rest my head, so I do just that.

"Yes," she hisses. "I can see that. So can everyone else. C'mon, let's go." The fingers on my arm squeeze and pull. The hand on my ass grips and holds me still.

The hand in my bra is rubbing my breast again and a belt buckle is making indentations in the skin of my exposed stomach.

Kate tugs my arm once more and I tighten my grip in the soft hair around my fingers.

She speaks again but her voice is farther away and more difficult to hear over the music. I catch "go" and "drink" and then the rumbling chest is gone and the hand on my arm has won and I'm being dragged through the mass of bodies in the dark, hot room. An arm around my shoulders keeps me moving forward.

I recognize the suffocating feeling just as it evaporates, the cool night air chasing it away. I stumble as I try to pull my hair off my neck and Kate stops us and does it for me, and then we're on our way to our dorm, and no one says much of anything. My fingers and toes are tingling with the last traces of music and my ears are ringing, and we finally make it to our room.

Kate forces a bottle of water into my hand and then pushes me onto my bed and slips off my shoes. A low, whispered, "Call me if you need anything. Sleep well," in my ear – words familiar, voice all wrong – is the last thing I remember.

~ * ~

The first thing I realize when I wake up is that the light is loud. My head is pounding and my mouth is dry, and I have no idea what possibly could have happened that would make me feel like this. I groan as I shift, trying to figure out if my body is intact, and a voice that is altogether too loud pipes up from across the room.

"Good morning, Sleeping Beauty."

"Goddamn, what the hell happened?" I groan and pull the covers up over my head even though I'm sweating and uncomfortable. I just need the light to be gone.

"You don't remember?" Kate asks, her voice closer.

"Not really." I can see flashes of lights and can almost hear voices and as I run my hand over my face, I realize my skin smells like a party.

"That's probably good." She chuckles and I'm immediately concerned because nothing good comes out of that kind of chuckle, not when it comes from Kate.

"What happened?" I lower the cover and open one eye to see Kate standing over me. She sits on the edge of my bed.

"Here, sit up." She waves a bottle of water above my head and shakes a small bottle that rattles like it's filled with a thousand pennies.

"God, stop that," I groan, trying to haul myself up. I wipe my forehead, wondering if the glass shards that are poking into my skull are actually there, and am a little surprised that my skin feels smooth.

Kate holds out the little bottle and dumps two pills into my hand. I swallow them down with the water and am starting to recline when Kate grabs my shoulder.

"Wait. Close your eyes."

I obey, happy to make the obnoxious L.A. sun disappear for a few more minutes, and Kate starts wiping my eyes. The cloth is cool against my skin and feels amazing as she gently scrubs off what I assume is last night's makeup, caked on and making a mess of my face.

"All right, tell me. Quietly, please."

Kate snickers. "To make a long story short, you drank about half a keg of whatever shit beer they had and then hooked up with one of Garrett's brothers."

It's lucky that Kate has stopped wiping my face because at that little statement, my eyes fly open and I stare at her. "Oh no. Hooked up?"

"Well, not hooked up hooked up, but there was some heavy-duty making out going on." She grins and throws the face wipe in the trashcan by my bed before pushing on my shoulder. I gratefully lie down.

"Please tell me it was Sam?" Kissing Sam would be okay, although I would actually be pretty pissed that I couldn't remember it. He's the best looking of the Sigma Nus by far.

"Um, not exactly." Kate chuckles again and gives me one of those looks when I open my eyes again. A tiny flash of something flutters through my head as I try to recall last night, but I can't grasp it long enough to make it stay and make sense.

"Just tell me!"

"It was Seth." Kate is laughing now, and shaking the mattress, which only makes my head ache more. I give her a firm push and she catches herself before she falls to the ground.

"Oh god." I bury myself in my bed, hoping that if I can fall back to sleep, I'll wake up and find out this hadn't happened.

"Come on, it's not so bad, Bella. He's a nice kid."

"Kate, he's like sixteen!"

"He's eighteen, Bella. I checked with Garrett." She's laughing again and I want to throw my pillow at her but that would require that I move, which I'm pretty sure isn't going to happen until sometime next week.

"It's not funny."

"Yes, it is. And once you feel better, you'll know that. I'm leaving the rest of this water here. I'll be at Garrett's. Okay?"

I snake a hand out from under the cover and point in the direction of the door. "Just go. Don't come back!"

Kate laughs again and I giggle quietly. It's so ridiculous.

"See you soon, Be-" Kate is cut off by a knock on the door that sounds as if someone is outside with a battering ram. I hear the door open and then three dreadful words: "Oh, hi, Seth!"

I want to believe Kate is fucking with me, because it's totally something she would do, but a voice quickly follows hers.

"Hi, Kate. Is Bella here?"

I groan and roll over, forcing my face into my pillow. Suffocation will only take a few minutes if I can manage to keep my face pressed to the pillow the whole time....

"Just a second, okay?"

I feel Kate's hand on the back of my head as she tugs down the blanket. "Guess who's here, lover girl," she stage whispers at my head.

"Katie, this is not a good time." I wiggle down the bed, trying to stay covered as she yanks the blanket back, but it doesn't work. I finally give up and roll over. Kate immediately runs her fingers through my hair, which I'm sure looks like it hasn't been washed in a week.

"Come on. He looks so cute. I think he brought you something." She's whispering for real now and kind of pleading.

I pull the sheet back up to my chest so that it isn't glaringly obvious that I'm still dressed in last night's clothes. "Fine, fine. Just make sure you stay put until he's gone, okay?"

"Oh, no. You're on your own." She backs off the bed and picks up her bag, but pauses before opening the door. Her expression has transformed from one of amusement to one of concern. "Hey, are you okay, Bella? Last night.... It wasn't your usual style."

I try not to think too hard about her question and just nod. "I'm fine. Just glad exams are almost over. I got a little carried away, I guess." I shrug and run my fingers through my hair, trying to get out the knots.

"Okay.... Just don't forget you can talk to me if you need to, okay?"

"I know, Kate. Thanks."

She comes over and gives me a quick hug before pulling open the door again. "Come in, Seth. Sleeping Beauty is awake now." She winks and gives a little finger-wave as she disappears past him. I try to make a mental note to unpack all of those boxes she packed earlier in the week. That'll give her something to do while she's busy feeling guilty for leaving me alone.

Seth walks into the room looking unsure and nervous. He starts to push the door closed behind himself, but then hesitates and throws me a glance. He finally leaves it about a foot open before turning back to me and slowly approaching my bed.

I have to admit that Seth is a nice kid. And cute, too. But he's some sort of math genius and started at USC before any of his friends had even graduated high school. He's a sophomore now, and apparently legal, but that doesn't make me feel any better. I want to tell him that I barely remember anything that happened, but he already looks so uncertain that I can't bring myself to do it. I just hope he isn't going to make any kind of big declaration. I don't know what I'd say to that, but I'm sure it wouldn't be good.

He's holding a plastic bag and he reaches in and pulls out a bottle of water. "I, um. I got you some stuff. Garrett said you might need some." He looks guilty for a second, and then looks back into the bag again. "I also got some orange juice, um, with and without pulp because I wasn't sure what you'd like. And some crackers. Those fake cheese kind." He looks back up at me and I start to feel bad because it looks like he's worried I'm going to yell at him or do something else unpleasant.

"Thanks, Seth, that's really nice of you. I'll take the pulpy OJ." I hold out my hand and he grins before digging around in the bag and handing me the bottle. I wrench it open and take a few long gulps before replacing the cap. He holds up a little pack of Advil but I shake my head – carefully, because the pounding and stabbing hasn't stopped yet – and point to the pill bottle Kate had put next to the bed. "So, I...." Sorry I got drunk and molested you...? Is that what I'm planning to say? I have no doubt that I was the aggressor in whatever happened last night.

"It's fine, Bella." Seth is looking between his feet and the bag, avoiding my gaze. "Garrett said that you were, well... that you just needed to sort of let your hair down a little bit." I frown, wondering what exactly Garrett meant by that; I'll have to talk to Kate later. "I won't lie, though. I'm glad I could be there for it." He looks back up and gives me a cute grin that has me smiling in response. Something inside me is relieved that he seems to get it. He puts the bag down next to the bed and steps back. "I'll let you go back to sleep, but I wanted to stop by and make sure you were okay."

"I'm fine, Seth. Thank you. Thanks for last night, too," I say, chuckling.

Seth's smile grows wider and he blushes a bit before he turns toward the door. "Maybe I'll see you at the party Friday night?"

"Yeah, my brother will be here. Maybe we'll stop by." It would be fun to take Peter to meet Garrett's friends, and he's only been down to visit me once in four years and could stand to experience one more real USC party before we graduate. But I'll have to figure out some way to make sure he doesn't hear about his sister's shenanigans. I have a good idea what his reaction would be like.

"That would be great. Take it easy." He smiles again before leaving the room and closing the door softly.

I rub my eyes in relief before taking a couple more swallows of juice. That could have gone exceptionally worse, but as I lie back down, I plot ways to make Kate feel lousy for abandoning me.

I rescue Gregor from where he's squished in between the wall and mattress and hear something clatter against the wall and then to the tile floor beneath the bed as I pull him free. I roll onto my stomach and reach my arm down the side of the bed. It barely fits in the narrow space and I figure I'll have to pull the bed away from the wall to find whatever fell. I sweep my fingers across the ground as best I can and almost immediately come in contact with something. Several patient seconds later, I manage to get whatever it is into my hand, and I roll onto my back, holding it. My cell phone.

It's been a while since I've fallen asleep with it and as I stare at it, a familiar sadness overcomes my mood, eclipsing the relief I was feeling a few moments ago. It must have been in my shorts pocket when I fell into bed. Or maybe I was holding it. Who knows. I turn it over a couple of times and am reaching out to drop it next to the bed when a scary thought flashes through my barely functioning brain: maybe it was here because I'd used it. I don't remember making any calls but I also don't remember kissing Seth, and that had clearly happened.

I open my phone slowly and pull up my call log, afraid of what I'll find. At least if I called Peter I won't have to worry too much about him finding out anything shocking at the party next weekend; I probably said all sorts of embarrassing things when I talked to him.

An intense chill washes over me, raising the hairs on my arms, and my heart nearly stops when I see the number at the top of the list. There's no name associated, just a number, but the area code is one that's now familiar, and apparently the number was one that I remembered even in a drunken stupor.

I haven't talked to Jasper since that night before Peter went off about how I didn't really know him. Jasper called me twice after that and left voicemail both times, and twice I listened to his voice and wished... wished a million things: that we had met under different circumstances; that I hadn't ever bothered to call him that first time; that I hadn't fallen for a guy who lived a thousand miles away.

Tiny wisps of conversations we'd had try to force their way into my head as I study his number. I've been very studiously trying to forget everything that had happened with him, and while I did okay in the beginning – immersing myself in papers and projects helped – lately, I have failed miserably. He has become the elephant in the corner of my mind. When I am trying not to think about him, he invades my conscious and subconscious, and I just can't win; I find myself thinking about him during class; daydreaming about him during lunch; dreaming about him at night. It's been six weeks since we've spoken and every word he ever said to me is just as clear in my head now as it was originally, and the feelings I felt have not diminished.

It takes a few seconds of spacing out before I notice the little number next to his phone number. A tiny "0:49" in black text on a white background. It's another few seconds before I realize what that represents. Call duration. My breath speeds up as I realize that of all the blank time from last night, there are now forty-nine seconds that potentially involve me speaking to Jasper, and I can't remember a single one of them. I don't even recall dialing the number, but the time and date on the call are for last night – early this morning, actually – so I know I did.

My heart tightens painfully and matches the ache in my head, and I quickly shut the phone as if that will make the numbers go away. Did I talk to him? Did I get his recorded, "Hey, this is Jasper..." which I've only heard once but remember like it's spray painted on my ceiling? Even if I had, his message isn't more than seven or eight seconds long, which leaves forty seconds for me to have babbled about... anything. Did I just sit there and say nothing, again? I kind of hope that's the case.

Burning tears, which have thankfully been in short supply recently, fill the corners of my eyes, and I turn my head to wipe my face against my sheet. I've been doing well lately... I think. I imagine going back to the days of unexpected crying and blank stares and general disinterest in everything and the tears come faster. But maybe last night's little antics at the party, and afterward, it would appear, are an indication that I'm not as okay as I have tried to convince myself I am.

The thought leaves me breathless because if weeks later I'm still not over... whatever it was, whatever it could have been... how long will it take? Dad still lives on the edge of my memory at all times, but that particular overwhelming pain has started to lessen a tiny bit. Although right now, lying here in my bed, it all feels too raw and open, and maybe I haven't really healed at all, no matter what I think.

When my phone starts to vibrate in my hand, I realize I'm still holding it. I clear my throat, preparing to talk to Kate about how things went with Seth, and glance at the display as I start to flip it open.

My thumbs stills and I catch myself in time to stop the phone from answering the call. The number flashing on the little display isn't Kate's. Or Peter's. Or Jake's. It's the same number, not associated with a name, that was at the top of my call log.

I watch as it lights the screen over and over as the phone continues to vibrate. It feels more insistent the longer it goes on, like the phone knows I'm just staring and wants me to move and answer the call.

My thumbnail slides into the groove on the side of the phone and starts to push the two halves apart, but then the phone is still and silent because I waited too long. I feel my body relax as this registers and then I'm in tears again, confused and hurting and... a lot of nothing good. My head aches more than before as the tight pressure of crying mingles with the pain of my hangover. The phone vibrates again as new voicemail comes in and I imagine his voice saying quiet, calming things, even if it's just another, "Please call me." What had I said that made him call me back after all of this time?

I throw the phone off the bed before I can retrieve the voicemail and roll onto my side, facing the wall. Gregor becomes the center of my tiny world as I curl myself around him, and I stay that way until Kate comes home hours later.

Legna betaed and helped with USC Frat and graduation information. She's good like that!

Next update will be up on Saturday (2/6).