He released the lock of hair and crossed his arms over his chest; “What are the other characteristics of mammals?”
I watched him intently for a minute, about to tell him about sweat glands and ear bones, but then a flash of memory from the previous night penetrated my conciseness. I felt suddenly sure he was making fun of me. I remembered the absurdity of my innate response to him, I remembered the way my brain and body were at complete discord, I remembered his words to me just before the first time I left the club- that someone like me didn’t belong there. I was determined to remain in control, detached, invulnerable to his glittering physical perfection and soul x-raying blue eyes.
I focused on his teasing. I didn’t especially enjoy being teased when I couldn’t be certain of the person’s intentions so I shrugged, “I don’t know.”
His eyes narrowed for the briefest of moments as he openly studied me, his mouth curving into a frown; he looked displeased. Then he said, “What do you remember about last night?”
I lifted my chin, gritting my teeth. “I remember you making me leave the club.”
“Can you remember anything after that?” his tone was guarded.
My attention drifted to the left and I blinked, trying to figure out precisely what I did remember from the previous night. I had been so preoccupied with my hangover and my escape that I didn’t stop to think about how I ended up in his apartment, in my underwear. I was talking as I was thinking and before I realized it said, “Not much. You were there and I remember leaving the club-”
“Which time?” He interjected.
“With Elizabeth. I left with Elizabeth and she put me in a taxi. I asked the driver to take me back. When I got back sunglassman waved me in then I-” my eyes lost focus, I tried to pull the memories forward, “When I walked in I bumped into a man, he said he was looking for me. He-” I cleared my throat and squinted. I felt for sure I bumped into someone I knew, a man I recognized, but I couldn’t be sure. “I think someone took me up some stairs- it actually looked like a tree at first with a tree house but it was a room.”
“The Canopy room.” Quinn’s voice was matter-of-fact but something about it brought my attention back to him. He moved his hands to his hips, his blue eyes dark with some unreadable thought. “What else do you remember?”
I studied him for a moment, and my own thoughts, before I continued. “Not much.” I licked my lips. It was the truth, I didn’t remember much. I remembered being offered and drinking a shot of something that burned but I couldn’t really make out the size or shape of the room or any tangible, physical characteristics. I knew there had been several people present because I remember them laughing but I didn’t remember what they looked like. It was like I walked into the tree house room and was swallowed up by a black fog.
A sudden thought occurred to me and I quickly wrapped my arms around my center, “Does that happen a lot? After drinking?”
“What? Losing your memory?” he asked.
“Yes.” I nodded.
“No, not after drinking. When I found you upstairs in the Canopy room, not long after I thought you’d already left, you were still awake but... you weren’t making any sense so I carried you out.”
“Wait, you carried me?” My body responded strangely to that information.
He nodded. “Yeah, one of our-” he seemed to struggle for the right words, “one of the club patrons was dancing with you but you weren’t exactly cooperating so much as critiquing his dance moves. I think someone must have slipped you something.” He surveyed me, as though carefully studying my reaction or bracing for a freak-out.
“You mean someone gave me Bendothi- Bethnzodiath- Benzodiazepid-” I huffed, gritted my teeth, then sounded out the word: “Ben-zo-dia-ze-pines?”
“Yes, I think someone slipped you Benzodiazepines in whatever you drank up in the Canopy.”
“Oh.” I twisted my mouth to the side and thought about someone giving me a date rape drug. It seemed far-fetched but not out of the realm of possibility, especially considering my lack of memory. I felt it would be best to find out for certain. “Do you have any pharmacies nearby?”
Quinn nodded his head, “I imagine you could use some aspirin. There is some in the bathroom.”
“Oh, thanks, but I was thinking I’d pick up a test- did you know pharmacies will sell you over the counter tests to detect Benzodiazepines?” He lifted his eyebrows in what I interpreted was confusion so I felt the need to clarify, “It’s a urine test, not a venipuncture-”