But she only has half the truth.
As it is, the news broke of Will’s death, and everyone is a little spooked. I don’t think everyone knows yet—or maybe too many of us just don’t care, the way no one seems afraid to venture out to night classes or stroll along the grounds in the dark—but it’s in the news now, and Drayton sent another safety email. Eventually, theories will emerge. Some of them might be right. Some of them might point at me. But so far, despite the fact two bodies have dropped at Drayton U, neither myself nor the hockey players have been named in relation to the events that happened the night Jackson died. Only Cynthia knows about that on my end, and Nolan, too, who has texted me nearly every hour the past few days to the point I’m considering blocking his fucking number. Just for a day. He’s threatening to drive up here this weekend, insisting they might have a “serial killer situation” on their hands at Drayton U.
But so far, no police officers have come banging on my door or hitting up my phone to drag me back into their investigation.
“Didn’t mean to frighten you. You just seemed a little off in class.” Edmond’s words bring me back to the present. The unusually cold night. The threat of snow in the air.
The fact I have to walk by the library on my way home.
I avoided it heading to class, coming straight from early dinner with Cyn at the main dining hall. Cyn didn’t say a word about the fact I only ate berries and peanut butter, but I could feel her eyes judging my plate.
Judging me.
I’m going to have to make a big show of eating somethingbadtomorrow, in front of her. I’ve saved up enough calories thisweek to do it, considering my appetite is nearly gone from all the worrying I’ve been doing.
But two people I haven’t had to worry about?
Sylvan Connor and Faust Darling.
I’ve heard nothing from them since Saturday night when I walked out of the private room at the lounge, after we agreed on exactly nothing. Their silence is almost as unnerving as their presence.
“Oh, I’m just tired,” I tell Edmond.
He nods once like he understands, and he probably does. Edmond works night shifts four nights a week at a warehouse. That much I’ve learned about him, as he was a little more talkative in class since he saw me Saturday night.
I realize my complaint was stupid considering his work schedule and I open my mouth to say so but he speaks first.
“I’m going into work so I need to wake up anyway. Do you want me to walk you to your place? The cold air is like a shot of espresso.” He smiles small and he really is pretty handsome. Quiet but not like Faust. Less intense. Shorter; about my height.
I start to decline his offer, but when I happen to glance over my shoulder, I see the looming darkness of the brick walkway to the library. Not many people are out that way this late tonight, considering it’s so damn cold. Or maybe they are more worried than I thought.
“You know what?” I turn to Edmond and flash my teeth at him. “If you have time, that would be wonderful.”
As we get closerto the library, I realize I’ve gone quieter, but Edmond doesn’t seem to mind. He fills in the gaps of my anxiety as I eye House Memorial with its peaked roof, pale stone, and the double doors with golden-trimmed handles bigger than my arm.
The only windows are set in the wall, far from the door, and they’re stained glass. No way to see inside.
No one comes in or out and while it’s not usually empty, I can only imagine the crime scene tape that would have adorned this place a few nights ago until very recently has scared a lot of people off.
“So anyway, my boyfriend is coming up this weekend but I’ll be working exactly fifty percent of the time he’s here so you can imagine how that’s going to go.” Edmond is rambling on and I realize he’s the type that doesn’t shut up when he’s making new friends. A lot like Tasia.
And I also realize he’s gay. Bi, at the very least. Which makes me feel safer with him. And that thought almost distracts from the looming shadow behind the awning from a stone post of the library.
Almost.
Eyes peer at me from the depths and a gust of wind slices like cold steel through even the wool of my coat as I stop walking abruptly, Edmond still prattling on about his soon-to-be disappointed boyfriend.
I open my mouth to call after him, my eyes locked on the man standing in the shadows, but words fail me.
Thankfully, Edmond notices I’ve lagged behind and he turns, then closes the gap that’s formed between us.
“Sorry, I got carried away?—”
“No,” I interrupt him, reluctantly dragging my eyes from the shadow by the library, onto the veranda. “I actually remembered I need to snag a book from inside.” I smile at him, and it’s not fake. “Thanks for walking me this far. I really appreciate it.”
Edmond frowns and plays with the beige scarf around his throat. “I can wait for you, honestly, it’s not a problem. My shift isn’t for another couple of hours.”
“I think I’ll stay inside for a bit and try the hot cocoa,” I lie. I’ve never had it and don’t plan on starting tonight, but I don’t want to tell Edmond the truth. Can’t. Not without it being a big thing.
