I tongue my bottom lip as I wait. Kai’s bite mark is healing, but I can still feel a faint ridge.
Parker eventually starts typing another message. For her sake, she’d better be elaborating on her non-explanation, because the last dregs of my patience are on the verge of evaporating.
I was holed up in my office on campus when I began messaging Haven this morning. My class starts in a little over an hour, and instead of prepping, I’m parked on Greek Row trying to dissuade myself from breaking into Gamma Alpha Zeta.
But I have no choice.
@parker.melissa
She’s at GAZ, prob sleeping
@rooke.bastian
Someone there who can get her to answer my call? It’s important.
@parker.melissa
Nope
Muscles in my neck that haven’t relaxed since Saturday morning finally loosen. My eyes flick back up to the window, my jaw clenching as I will myself to put the Tesla in reverse and get the fuck out of here. Haven’s not on drugs, she probably just took a sleeping tablet to catch up on some rest because she partied too hard.
I left Saturday night’s party early, before either her or Kai could spot me, but who knows what time those two staggeredhome? And I know there was an afterparty at Kai’s frat house, so what’s saying there wasn’t one at Haven’s?
@rooke.bastian
Pls ask her to call me when you get back.
Melissa starts typing a reply, but then stops. I wait for a few seconds, gaze darting from the window to my phone.
Haven’s fine. I should leave.
But I have no choice.
I get out of the car, scanning the street to check if anyone’s around. Greek Row is deserted, everyone on campus, or still recovering from the weekend’s bender.
The Rain Dance has that effect.
Either way, no one’s around to spot me trying to open GAZ’s front door.
It’s locked.
Good for them. Bad for me.
Another quick scan to make sure no one’s appeared in the street, then I’m sidling through the narrow, wrap-around lawn on the side of the house. I duck under a bougainvillea, wrench open the side gate, and let myself into the backyard. I brush leaves from my jeans, chin out and shoulders back as I head for the back door.
Do anything with confidence, and people rarely question your authority.
Bad for them. Good for me.
Surprisingly, the back door is also locked. But it only takes me a minute or two to find a spare key hidden under a fake rock in the nearby flower bed. I unlock the door, return the key to its hiding place, and close and lock the door behind me.
The hush that surrounds me as I pause in the kitchen is strangely comforting. No chatting, no giggling, just a rare calm.
I take my phone out of my pocket and switch it to silent as I stride over the tiles and into the sorority house’s foyer. Melissa’s last message never came through, but perhaps she had nothing to add to the conversation.
It’s the first time I’ve messaged her since she sent me a photo of her tits, so maybe she still feels awkward.
If anyone was around, they’d hear me coming up the creaky stairs. But no one pokes their head out to demand what I’m doing inside.
