The sound of a door swinging open brought our conversation to an abrupt halt. Tag and I both lurched as a deep and congested voice called, “Who’s out there?”
His words were slightly slurred.
Run!my muscles screamed, but Tag and I didn’t get the chance; the light from Bunker Hill’s high-powered lantern captured us in its beam almost immediately. It was big and bright, practically blinding.
“Miss Hopper, is that you?” Bunker asked from his front stoop. He was dressed in a black-and-gray smoking jacket with his flashlight in one hand and a tumbler of brown liquid in the other. Probably the bourbon my mom had recommended the other night.
Even though I’d run through this scenario earlier, my heart hammered and I could hear the blood pumping through my ears. Tag had told Alex to stay in the trees to avoid a second strike, and I’d mentioned Latin to keep him there…although truthfully, being Bunker’s students wouldn’t carry much weight(despite what dark academia dictated). I knew that. If we were caught, Latin wouldn’t save us. My surrogate grandfather would definitely call my mom.
“Do you trust me?” I whispered to Tag.
A heartbeat later, he’d threaded his fingers through mine. The movement was so smooth and effortless that I needed to pull away and stretch my tingling hand before finding his fingers again. My eyelids fluttered. The moment took me back to a different time—a better time.
We took several steps toward the cottage. “Yes, it’s me, Mr. Hill,” I said as if I weren’t shaking in my sneakers. I lifted an arm in greeting, and once Tag and I reached the base of the porch, I noticed our teacher’s disheveled white hair and the red rings around his weathered eyes.
“Now, Lily…” he began before he raised an intrigued brow at who was at my side. I moved closer to Tag, and Bunker let a small smile slip. “I know that young love has a mind of its own,” he said, bemused, “but don’t you think it’s a bit late for you and Mr. Swell to be taking in the moonlight together?” He squinted at his watch, as if to confirm Tag’s curfew had indeed come and gone. Part of me wondered if he knew when the boarders’ curfew actually was and if he even cared. He looked up and gave Tag a drunkenly solemn stare. “I assume the rumors are true? You and Miss Greenberg have said farewell?”
“Yes sir,” Tag said. “For the last time.”
Bunker raised his glass. “Then cheers.”
I felt Tag shift from one foot to the other, so I let go of his hand to casually rub the back of his neck. My heart twinged when he leaned into it; afterward, it was like he couldn’t find my hand fast enough.He’s nervous, I thought as our fingers intertwined again.He’s nervous about Bunker reporting us, about getting the damning second strike.
I squeezed tight to tell him it was okay. I had this handled.
“Well, then,” Bunker said, “it’s probably best that you two weren’t here earlier.” He sipped his drink. “It would’ve made for a rather awkward gathering.”
“Gathering?” Tag and I both asked.
“Oh, yes.” Another swig of bourbon. “President Rivera was here—”
I gasped. “Daniel?Danielwas here?”
“Indeed. He stopped by for a chat.”
“When?” I asked gravely as our teacher’s words sunk in, as every ounce of blood drained from my face. Daniel was another one of the seven “murderous” Latin students. He too was close with Bunker, though I knew Bunker found Daniel’s essays “contrived” (even if his grammar was perfect). “When was he here?”
Bunker studied his watch again. “This evening” was what he settled on, waving us off and swaying in place. His glass was almost empty.
Tag, back in control, moved to steady the old man. “Why don’t we get you inside, Mr. Hill? I heard you have a sinus infection?”
Bunker pinched his nose and nodded. However, I stayed where I was, watching through the window as Tag helped him into a worn leather armchair before disappearing into another part of the house. He returned with a glass of water. “Now, Taggart,” I heard Bunker say, his voice much too loud, “you and Lily be careful. Roger Harvey’s trainee is itching to make his first arrest. You’re ten days away from graduation, and I don’t want to see either of you mess it up! Lily’s not just our salutatorian, she’s ourcrown jewel.” He sighed. “And you…we both know what a time you’ve had. I want you to finish strong, son.”
Tag gave Bunker a wan smile and a pat on the shoulder. I also saw him mouth something, but his voice was too low to hear. When he reemerged from the cottage, all traces of the smile were gone, lips now in a flat line. “Do you want to punch the editor?” he said as we made eye contact and started walking resolutely toward the trees, where Alex and Manik waited. “Or should I?”
My voice trembled. “Do you think it’s true?”
Tag nodded. “He left his hat. His fucking Harvard hat was sitting on the coffee table.”
“Gentlemen do not wear hats indoors,”I remembered Bunker saying to the boys in Latin.
I gritted my teeth and picked up my pace. Tag upped his too. Our hand-holding was finished, our show over.
“Okay,whathappened?” Alex said once we reached the copse of trees. “Where have you guys been?”
We ignored him. “Patel!” Tag all but barked. “Patel, where are you?”
Manik appeared from behind a tree, basically vibrating like Madame Hoffman’s toy poodles in December. “There you guys are. We were getting worried—”
