At the register, I rummage around in the bottom of my tote bag for some change. Kai has a habit of shoving it in my bag sometimes when he uses cash for something—which is rare—but I can’t even scrounge up half of my bill.
“Fuck,” I mutter, eying the bagel, then the coffee.
The cashier raises an eyebrow. “Problem?”
I could put back the bagel. Go hungry. Wait until Kai shows up, and we can figure out food together.
Or…
I pull out the black credit card Bastian gave me. The one I kept in case of emergency.
Is being broke and hungry an emergency?
Or is using his money one step closer to hell?
“Hello?” the cashier prompts, snapping her gum.
“Sorry.” I hand over the card.
She swipes it and casually returns it as if she wasn’t just complicit in Haven Lee’s continued fall from grace.
I take my food and coffee and get the fuck out of there before I can think too hard about what I just did. But Simone’s too good at her job—it’s like she can sniff out the bagel in my tote bag as soon as my feet hit the library carpet.
She looks up from her desk and shakes her head, giving me an apologetic smile. I roll my lips together, nodding before turning on my heel and heading out again.
I can polish off this bagel in five minutes, tops.
What’s a few minutes in the grand scheme of things, right?
I take three minutes to devour my bagel because I’m that hungry. I’m still wiping crumbs from my mouth as I hurry back inside the library. Simone doesn’t sense a disturbance in the force anymore because she lets me approach the desk without an issue.
“Could I check my phone, please?”
Simone laughs as she turns to unplug it. “You kids and your phones,” she says. “Here you go.”
I turn it on and wait for it to boot up, my knee bouncing under the table.
Come on. Come on.
The screen lights up.
Notifications flood in.
Five missed calls from Kai from this morning, all within the span of twenty minutes. And a handful of VibeFeed notifications, too.
My heart leaps into my throat. I start a call, putting my phone to my ear as I look up and catch Simone’s wide eyes and gaping mouth.
Oh God. I’ve just committed a sin worse than bringing food into the library.
“Shit, sorry,” I hiss, backing up as if she’s got a gun aimed at my head.
She nods, but there’s a stern set to her mouth as she watches me retreat.
I hurry out the side door leading to the library gardens, hitting dial as soon as my foot hits the step outside.
Shouldn’t have bothered—it goes straight to voicemail.
“Fuck.”
