Page 66 of Snitches and Serpents

I grab the handle. My pulse thrums in my ears. But the longer I stand here, the more risk that someone will see me. So I quickly push down the handle and pull the door open a fraction.

The space beyond is very open. There doesn’t appear to be several different rooms, but instead just one massive one. Which means that it will be difficult to stay hidden. Unless?—

A guy walks right towards me.

Panic crackles through me.

I release the handle as if it had burned me and then sprint back to the edge of the building. I have only just managed to skid around the corner and press myself against the wall when the sound of the door being opened comes from the other side.

My heart pounds so loudly that I’m afraid he’s going to hear it.

Inching forward, I risk a quick glance around the corner. The guy I caught a glimpse of is walking away from the door and towards the parking lot. He doesn’t look around as if searching for someone. His gaze is simply on the cars ahead.

Relief washes through me, and I slump back against the wall.

Resting the back of my head against the bricks, I stare up at the burnt blue sky and draw in deep breaths while I force my heart to stop racing.

That was close.

I lift the phone still in my hand and unlock it again. Then I send a text back to John.

Me: No. At least not without drawing attention. But I’ll work on it.

As usual, it takes a couple of minutes for him to reply.

John Smith: See that you do.

I lick my lips nervously. He sounds disappointed. So I send another text.

Me: There’s a party tonight. I’m pretty sure Tristan is going to be there.

John Smith: Where?

Me: On campus.

John Smith: So nothing of value. As usual.

My heart sinks and worry spreads through my limbs like cold water.

For a second, I debate whether to send another text to apologize. But I don’t want to annoy him further by sending more useless messages, so I just lock the screen and slip my phone back into the pocket of my shorts. Then I start towards my car.

I’m still going to that party. It’s a massive event, to celebrate and have fun one last time before this semester’s first exam week starts on Monday. So there might still be something of value to report.

And if nothing else, the girls from my former sorority are going to be there, and I want to try to mend things with them. Now that it has been a few weeks, maybe Brandi will have had time to cool off. If I can get them to give me another chance, my dad might stop telling me how disappointed he is in me every time we talk.

Nausea crawls up my throat as I climb back into my car.

Dad is disappointed in me for ruining his public image.

Mom is disappointed in me for getting kicked out of her sorority.

John is disappointed in me for not producing any results.

My chest tightens, and I struggle to draw in a panicked breath as I start the car.

Everyone is disappointed in me.

I need to find a way to fix this.

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