Aaliyah and Nuratook umbrellas, and Frankie and I mocked them for it. I took a flask.
The stairs were muddy, a choir of empty bottles crowding the second-floor landing. The grass of the Quad was littered with discarded masks.
The croquet team had set up on the lawn in front of Ridermore, playing in their soaked whites. Frankie chased after Nura, trying to snatch her umbrella away.
I felt Aaliyah staring at me.
“I’m not having a seizure,” I said. “Just a bacchanal.”
She took the flask from my hand, sniffed it.
“Whiskey, neat,” I said.
She took a drink. “You’ve changed this year.”
“So has everyone.”
“I knew a preacher’s daughter once. Bottled up at home, then came here and changed a bit too much.”
“Everyone remembers Stephanie Freedman.” I took the flask back and drank. “Are you saying I’m going to wind up on mushrooms, streaking in the library?”
“You’re halfway streaking already.”
I laughed and tossed the flask back to her, tying my scarves tighter. “My family has no preachers, not since Peter burned the chapel down. You know how you’ve changed, Aaliyah? You wouldn’t have told me this before.”
“You wouldn’t have listened.”
“True. I wouldn’t have given you advice either. But I’m going to: Stay away from the legacies at Helshire. Don’t accept our scholarships or fellowships or investments. Never sign anything!”
I took off at a run.
The rain felt glorious, but mostly it was the air—finally free of burnt plastic and old campfire. I’d barely exercised since the smoke had descended, much less run. The cold rain against my skin sparked a radiance in my muscles, pushing me faster.
I left the girls behind, circling the Quad, past the croquet team and its loyal fans. A few of them cheered me on. I ignored the looks from people headed to class in sensible raincoats and boots.
“Jess,” called a voice.
I skidded to a halt. “Sebastian?”
He stood under an umbrella but was as drenched as me. Panting, like he’d been running too.
“You came,” I said, realizing he was who I needed. We would celebrate the breaking drought, entwined around each other.
“Something’s happened,” he said, his voice tight. “At Faraday’s.”
He stepped closer, the umbrella over both of us now, cutting off the purifying rain.
“Crystal came by,” he said, “asking questions.”
“Fuck.” The elation left me all at once. I was half naked and cold, the alcohol an acid trail from throat to stomach.
Loose ends always unravel.
Sebastian handed me the umbrella, took off his raincoat, and placed it around my bare shoulders.
“She’s dead,” he whispered in my ear. “We have to go.”
I squinted at him through water dripping into my eyes.
