Crunch.
I flinched again, gripping the steering wheel like it was the only thing keeping me from losing my mind.
“Can you not?” I hissed, glancing in the rearview mirror.
Jace looked up mid-bite, an Oreo halfway to his mouth. “What?”
“That. The chewing. The crunching. The aggressive consumption of cookies while I’m trying to plan a possible felony.”
He raised a brow, unfazed. “Stress-eating, Adler. You know it’s a coping mechanism for me.”
“Maybe your coping mechanism should be thinking of ways to steal a top-secret document from a highly secured college dean’s office.”
He stared at me like I was an idiot, then shrugged and took another slow, obnoxious bite.
Crunch.
“I’ll pass on that, thank you,” he said with a full mouth. “I’m the beauty of this operation. You’ve got Big Brains next to you.”
“It’s true,” Parker commented sleepily. Not using his brain at all at the moment since he’d just woken up from a nap.
This was too much.
“Give me those,” I hissed, reaching a hand out behind me.
“No, you’ll throw them out!” Jace said indignantly, frantically stuffing the cookies into his mouth so that his cheeks were bulging. “I will not give in!”
Crumbs sprayed my face, and I growled as I turned back to the road and away from the chocolate projectiles.
The crunching continued, and then suddenly an Oreo was thrust in my face.
“Here,” he said begrudgingly. “We all know how you feel about beauty sleep, and you’re not you when you’re hungry and tired. So eat a cookie.”
“I think there’s a commercial that talks about that,” Parker mused as I snatched the cookie from Jace’s hand.
I did, in fact, feel much better the second I had it in my mouth.
Not as good as if I hadherin my mouth,though.
I’d lost it.
I stopped my car about half a mile from the gates, the engine humming as I shifted into park. The headlights cut through the fog just enough to show the looming iron archway ahead,RUTHERFORD COLLEGEspelled across the top in perfect lettering.
I stared out the windshield for a long moment, taking in the view beyond it, the sprawl of the campus, lit like a damn postcard. A massive green stretched out at its center, crisscrossed with pale concrete paths that glowed under the lamps. The buildings surrounding the lawn looked like someone had stolen them straight from Ancient Rome—white marble, perfect columns, gold accents gleaming even in the dark.
Jace let out a low whistle from the back seat, Oreo dust still on his shirt. “Fancy. Is this where the rich kids sacrifice people?”
“Feels about right,” I muttered.
Parker stirred in the passenger seat, stretching like his nap had been the most restful hours of his life. His hair was a mess, his voice rough. “That was a quick drive,” he commented.
Jace popped his head between the seats. “You’re kidding, right? You slept theentiredrive. I had to listen to Matty’s murder playlist and contemplate death.”
“I focus better rested,” Parker said, deadpan, then leaned forward, squinting through the windshield. “Alright. Here’s the plan.”
Both of us turned to stare at him.
“‘Plan?’” I repeated. “You’ve been unconscious for three hours. How the hell do you have a plan?”
