“Yeah, let’s go,” she says, grabbing our drinks.
Relief floods me once we reach the porch. The fresh air feels like a balm on the throat the cigarette smoke scorched.
“I’m calling a cab, okay?” I tell her, taking a sip of the soda she just handed me.
“Sure. Did you know those guys?”
“No,” I say, scrolling through my contacts for the taxi company number, while wondering whether the bodyguards have already noticed I’m gone.
Suddenly, fleeing feels utterly stupid. I should’ve called Rodrick and told him I wanted to come. Faced him like an adult.
“You looked uncomfortable in there.”
“And I was, but I think the problem is me. I’m not used to this . . .informality between men and women.”
“Hey, look at me.”
I lift my gaze.
“It’s not because you’re far from your country that you felt that way. It’s because those two were idiots. Anywhere in the world, women deserve respect.”
“Some Western women would say men from my emirate disrespect women.”
“Maybe. There are different levels of disrespect. But in this case? The way they acted is just the standard approach at this kind of party. That doesn’t mean it should be normal for you. ‘No’ will always be ‘no.’”
Her words hit something fragile inside me. The night that was supposed to be full of discoveries turned into a disaster.
“Thank you,” I say, looking back at my phone, but suddenly the screen blurs. I take a step back, stumbling. My eyelids feel unbearably heavy.
“Jazmina, what’s wrong?”
“I . . .I don’t know. I . . .please, call Rodrick.”
Chapter 12
“What did you say your name was?” I ask, my pulse pounding in my ears.
I had just gotten home and was about to take a shower when my phone rang. The second I saw Jazmina’s name on the screen, every muscle in my body tensed. I had to ask the girl on the phone to repeat the story three times, and even then, she’s so nervous she can barely string a coherent sentence together.
“Josephine. I’m Jazmina’s friend.”
“Josephine, I need you to tell me calmly what happened.”
“We’re at a party on the university campus. Jazmina grabbed her phone to call a cab for both of us, and suddenly . . .she just collapsed.”
“What do you mean ‘collapsed?’ Is she breathing?”
“Yes, she is, but she keeps mumbling incoherently . . .calling your name.”
“Do you know if she drank anything?”
“Just soda. Oh God, do you think someone put something in her drink?”
“Send me the location,” I say, feeling acid burn a hole through my stomach as I bolt out of my apartment.
“Do you know the university?”
“Yes.”