Earthbound by Aprilynne Pike Page A

more alone than ever with no idea who I can trust.
    It was always Elizabeth.
    Now there’s no one.
    Only myself.
    And Benson.
    My phone is in my hand before I can reconsider, a toneless ringing trilling in my ear. “Please answer, please answer,” I whisper as three rings sound, then four.
    “Tave?”
    “Benson.” I look in both directions before whispering, “Can you come get me? I’m in trouble.”

CHAPTER ELEVEN
    B enson parks against the curb in front of his off-campus house and by the time he gets around to my door, I’m already out and shifting from foot to foot, anxious to get inside. “You okay?” he asks, his hands softly rubbing up and down my arms. It’s the first thing he’s said since picking me up.
    It was a little awkward—should I have greeted him with a kiss? Are we pretending last night never happened? I don’t even know.
    So I said nothing.
    Did nothing.
    “Yeah. No,” I mumble.
What was the question?
“Can we go inside?”
    Benson opens the door and beckons me in. There are a half a dozen guys lounging in the great room; three are playing some sort of video game in front of a humongous television and one in a chair near the front window looks at me with a flirtatious grin.
    “New girlfriend?” he asks, addressing the question to Benson, though his eyes never leave my face.
    “Not my girlfriend,” Benson responds blandly, without looking at him, his hand on my shoulder, ushering me toward the stairs. I stiffen, trying to shove away the dart of hurt that goes through my heart at his words.
    “Good news for me,” the guy says, his smile growing even bigger.
    “Underage,” Benson calls back.
    “I am not,” I whisper.
    “Trust me, it’s better if Dustin thinks you are,” Benson whispers back. “World’s only virginal self-proclaimed
seducer
, and he’s
so
desperate to lose it he’ll hit on anything even remotely feminine.”
    I snicker.
    “Don’t laugh,” Benson says wearily as we reach the top of the stairs. “He’s my roommate.” He pushes open the door and my eyes widen at the two walls so completely covered in topless women it might as well be the wallpaper.
    “Nice,” I say dryly.
    “I did warn you.” He shakes his head, then motions to the other half of the room. “This is my side.”
    Benson’s bedroom is exactly what I would have expected. Sparse, but neat, with an eclectic collection of posters and knickknacks. He picks up a polo shirt draped across an armchair and gestures for me to sit.
    “So?” he asks, taking a seat at the foot of his bed and tossing the shirt up onto his pillow.
    Silence settles between us.
    “I saw Quinn yesterday,” I blurt, realizing I’m going to have to start my confession there before I can explain the rest.
    Benson just grimaces.
    “It’s why I came to the library in the first place.” I clamp my mouth shut; that wasn’t the right thing to say either.
Hey, guy I made out with last night, I only came to see you because of another guy. And then we kissed. And then I pulled magical ChapStick out of my pockets
.
Now I’m running from a conspiracy that might be trying to kill me.
I groan and put my face in my hands. “I know this is so incredibly awkward, but I have to tell you about him or none of the rest makes any sense.”
    “I’m listening,” Benson says, and though his voice is tight, it doesn’t sound angry.
    Tentatively I say, “His name is Quinn.”
    “You mentioned that. So … you guys talked?” Benson asks, still not looking at me.
    “I told him that the stunt he pulled at my house was unacceptable.”
    A tiny tick of a smile. “And he said he won’t do it again?”
    Kind of.
“Basically.” But it tastes like a lie and I don’t like to lie to Benson. “He talks kinda strange.”
    “It sounds to me like everything about this guy is strange.”
    I can’t argue with that. Instead I relay the whole conversation.
    “
Things to show you?
What does that mean?” Benson asks.
    “I don’t know, but