Page 33 of Dare To Break

A bag of sealed frozen peas is on the second shelf down on the rack nearest to the door. The cold of the plastic burns into my fingers as I carry it back to the counter. A handful of the iced green globes bounce out to roll onto the floor as I fill the coffee container. Snapping the lid shut, I slide it back into position.

I’m giggling like an idiot as I stow the peas in the freezer and close everything up again. I’m not about to waste time searching for the peas on the floor. I keep the light from my phone downward toward the floor, tearing through the cafeteria toward the main doors.

The security guard is long gone, but that doesn’t stop me from racing through the campus to my building. Panting, sweating, and my limbs shaking, I wind my way back to my dorm room.

Lacy is still snoring when I arrive.

I ease off my sneakers, and crawl under the blanket on my bed, still fully dressed. Breath whooshing out of my lungs, I quiver, sick to my stomach as the adrenaline rush finally ebbs.

I can’t deny the excitement of completing my dare.

There’d been no worries about grades or my reputation. No thought of Elena, Elliot, or Eli.

For one brief moment, I’d felt alive.

Chapter 22

Eli

The cafeteria is in an uproar. Someone, and I have a good idea who, has replaced the coffee beans with peas. A childish prank. A dare issued and accepted. A signal that the game is about to begin.

I can barely keep the smile from my face as I watch the chef waving his arms around, complaining loudly to the chief of security, demanding to know why the culprit hasn’t been caught. The guy hasn’t got an answer. It’s not like anywhere gets locked at night. Not any of the communal areas, anyway. And why would they? We use them all the time and once dinner has been served and cleared up, there’s nothing to find in here. But the chief of security lets the chef rant until he runs out of steam, promises to investigate and leaves. I catch his smile as he reaches the door, and guess he was told to pay little attention to the cafeteria over the weekend once the dare had been issued.

Sometimes I wonder if I’m the only one who sees the pattern surrounding the dares. If I’m the only one who cared to find out where they came from in the first place. But for the first time, I’m glad they haven’t. Because I can use it to my advantage.

There’s a coffee mug and two slices of toast waiting for me when I reach the table where Kellan sits.

“Frozen peas.” His laugh is dry. “Not the most original dare. She didn’t even hide the coffee beans well. Staff found them within five minutes of discovering the switch.”

“But perfect for what’s about to come.” I pull the mug toward me and inhale the aroma before taking a sip. “If it had been something more dangerous, she would have caved.” I am sure of that.

Kellan glances around and lowers his voice. “What’s the next step?”

I reach into my pocket and take out a small, folded piece of paper. I hold it out to him. “When you get a chance, slip this into her locker. Don’t let anyone see you.”

“What does it say?”

My smile stretches wide. “Just praising her for a job well done, and her instructions on how to reply to messages.”

His eyebrows shoot up. “Reply?”

“We need to know she’s going to accept the dares, so I’ve given her a way to show her acceptance.”

“And what’s that?”

I lean back in my chair and lift my mug. “You’ll see.”

***

Weekends are free for students to mostly do as they please, but there are clubs available for those who want them. The art studio is also open for use, and after breakfast that’s where I head. I need to find something to do; otherwise, I’ll be haunting the hallway where the seniors’ lockers are, waiting for Arabella to find my note.

As it is, my plan to lose myself to art is disrupted the second I walk into the room and find the girl in question already in there. For half a second, I consider turning and walking out, but I change my mind and cross the room to take the easel opposite her. I know she’s seen me when her hand stops moving on the page. I ignore her and reach for a sheet of paper, clip it to the easel and turn to study the various paints, pencils, and pens. Pencil is my favorite medium to use, but sometimes I dabble in paint, so I squeeze colors onto a palette, select four different brushes and place them on the table to my left.

I know what I want to design today, but my eyes keep straying to where the blonde works quietly on the other side of the room. I want her to leave, check her locker, and find my note. I need to know whether she’s going to accept my challenge.

What if she doesn’t?

Then I’ll have to rethink my plan. It’s not the only way I can get rid of her. It’s just easier.

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