4 Waxing & Waning by Amanda M. Lee

guy, his smile ready and flirtatious. His sense of humor was engaging and, for some reason, we played the game like tournament champs together.
    “Good call,” Scott said, smiling at me.
    He’d flirted with me a couple of times, but it wasn’t overt – or oppressive. He was just a friendly guy, I realized. If I offered to take him to bed, he wouldn’t say no. He also wasn’t pressing me. I liked him. He made me feel … relaxed. I hadn’t felt this relaxed in months.
    After the hand was over, and Scott and I had claimed four of the five tricks, the guy to my left balked. “I think you guys are cheating.”
    “How are we cheating?” I asked. “You’re sitting right here.”
    “You’ve got signs or something,” the guy replied.
    “We just met,” I said. “Grow up.”
    “Don’t tell me what to do.”
    “Then leave,” I suggested. “Other people will play.”
    “I want to play,” he said. “I just want you two to stop cheating.”
    “We’re not cheating,” Scott said. “Have some more beer.” He winked at me.
    The sound of heavy banging on the door jolted everyone. I glanced around, looking for one of my roommates to handle the task. Tally was sitting on the stairs, her legs spread, and some guy was exploring her mouth with his tongue while leaning between them.
    Kristy was standing in the kitchen talking to another guy. She was twirling a strand of her unruly hair in her hand. I think she was flirting, although I couldn’t be sure. It was genuinely hard to tell. The guy talking to her was clearly drunk. He kept losing his balance and falling into the refrigerator behind him.
    Paris was standing in the back vestibule, a balloon situated between her lips. Someone had brought a nitrous tank to the party and, while it wasn’t my thing, it seemed to be a big moneymaker. Some guy had set it up in the basement next to the keg.
    Paris was clearly having a good time as she sucked away.
    I pushed the cards into a pile and shot Scott a look. “I have to get the door.”
    He nodded, not moving from his spot. “I’ll wait for you.” His smile was nice, I realized, trying to push the thought from my mind as I ambled toward the front door. The last thing I needed was another romantic entanglement.
    Someone pounded on the door again. Hard.
    “All right,” I grumbled, twisting the knob. “I hear you.”
    The two figures standing on the other side of the door surprised me. They were cops.
    “Did someone call and complain about the noise?” I asked. “We’re not being very loud. The music is pretty low.”
    “We’re looking for Zoe Lake,” one of the officers said.
    My heart clenched. “Why?”
    “Does Zoe Lake live here?”
    “She does,” I said.
    “Is she here now?”
    “What do you want her for?”
    I felt someone move in behind me. When I glanced over my shoulder, I found Scott standing there. “Is something wrong, officers?”
    “We need to speak to Zoe Lake.”
    I tilted my head, considering. There really was no sense lying. They would just line everyone up and check their licenses. I was only delaying the inevitable. “I’m Zoe Lake.”
    One of the officers, the younger one, looked me up and down. “Why didn’t you say that when we first asked?”
    “I’m untrustworthy of law enforcement,” I replied. “Sue me.”
    The cop’s face was cynical. “Or maybe you’re hiding something.”
    “What do you want?”
    “We have a few questions,” the other police officer said. He was older, in his forties if I had to guess, and he seemed almost embarrassed by his younger partner’s zeal and accusatory manner.
    “About?”
    “About the body you discovered on campus,” the older officer replied.
    I nodded, moving through the door. “Let’s talk out here.”
    “And why is that?” I swear, the younger officer wanted me to smack him across the face.
    “Because everyone is having fun inside,” I replied. “You guys look like you could suck the fun out of a close-ended