Page 32 of Dare To Break

Biting my lip, I press down into the fleshy softness hard until it hurts.

What if I get caught? What if something goes wrong?

No one is going to get hurt. That insidious little voice continues. Annoyed, maybe, but that’s all. And I won’t get caught if I’m careful.

I meet the eyes staring back at me in the mirror. There’s a glimmer of recklessness that hasn’t been there before.

I’ve always been a good girl. A straight-A student, studying hard and never stepping out of line. I’ve never broken the rules or stayed out past curfew.

Who am I trying to please? Why am I acting so perfect? What has it gotten me? Do the dare. That little spark of darkness whispers. What have I got to lose? Elena expects only failure from me, no matter what I do. Eli hates me, even though he knows nothing about me. Elliot only stuck me here because it’s what my mother wanted.

Pressure builds in my head, and I close my eyes, hating that inner voice and its barbs of truth. A valve has uncapped within me, and bad things are spilling out.

Why am I making such a big deal out of this? It’s only frozen peas.

I clutch the porcelain sides of the sink and huff out an unsteady breath. Uncertainty wavers, melting into resolve and acceptance.

I return to the bedroom and use the light on my phone to grab my running gear and tug it on. Tiptoeing to the door, I sneak outside, carrying my sneakers. The second I’m in the hallway, the light automatically flicks on. I freeze, heart in my mouth, and listen, the sound of my own breathing harsh to my ears.

Silence.

My shoulders sag.

Satisfied there’s no one around, I shove my sneakers onto my feet and jog quietly along the hall. The sky is still black when I venture outside, not yet softening with the light of dawn. I stick close to the buildings, staying in the shadows, away from the security lights dotted along the paths. Nothing stirs. An eerie quiet shrouds the campus, transforming it into a dark and ominous place.

This is such a stupid idea. Please God, don’t let me run into campus security.

Heart pounding like a trapped bird in my chest, I sneak through the grounds, jumping at every tiny noise or movement.

I am not going to chicken out.

By the time I reach the cafeteria, my nerves are a chaotic, jumbled mess, and I’m being driven by adrenaline. My hands are shaking as I enter the building. I pull my phone out of my pocket, and switch on the flashlight mode. I dart past the empty tables and chairs. The faint smell of bleach and cleaning products linger in the air.

The kitchen is spotless and tidy, everything labeled and neat. I spy the stainless-steel coffee container to my left. Searching through the cabinet underneath, I find a plastic Tupperware tub. I pop off the lid, grab the coffee, open it and pour the contents into the pot. My hands are shaking so badly that I end up spilling some.

“Shit.” Somehow, I manage to get the rest of the coffee into its new home. Sealing the lid, I return it to the cabinet where I found it. I snatch a couple of paper napkins from a roll and wipe up the granules.

A thin beam of light slices through the darkness through one of the windows.

Heartbeat tripling in speed, I seize my phone and duck down behind the counter.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

The word chants in my head as I hold my breath.

Do not freak out. Do not freak out.

A door creaks open, but I don’t hear any footsteps.

I’m hyper-aware of everything. Every tiny sound. The hum of the refrigerator, and the aroma of the coffee I spilled on the counter. Closing my eyes, I will my breathing to slow.

Seconds tick by, and it feels like an eternity before the door closes.

Another minute passes before I rise, peeking out across the cafeteria.

I can’t see anyone. It must have been security on their rounds. I need to hurry.

Scrunching the coffee-filled napkins into balls, I dump them in the trash can. The big white freezer is at the back of the kitchen. It’s the walk-in type with a thick metal door. I open it. A blast of cold air washes over me, and I shiver. I push it all the way, wait to see if it closes, but it doesn’t swing back as I fear. Still conscious of the chance of getting locked inside, I rest a huge sack of potatoes against the door.

---