Page 45 of They're Watching You

“Maren,” Remington says, reaching for me.

“I’m too tired for this.” I shrug off his coat and toss it at his chest.

Moments later, we reach the antechamber, where we’re greeted by rumbling applause and a banquet not even my brain can digest.

I leave Remington beneath the archway, stride to the display, and take a swig of wine.

Then, spinning to face what I now see is a tide of envious glares, I search for the only person I can trust in the society.

Seventeen

In the morning, my eyes open, drinking in the sunlight seconds before panic hits me like a lacrosse ball to the face.

What time is it?I scramble for my phone on the floor, dread wrenching me out of bed.9:30 a.m.. I slept through not only breakfast, but through half of chemistry. Which means I’m missing a test.

I vaguely remember thinking about setting my phone alarm last night—or early this morning, whenever I stumbled into bed, half-conscious—but I must’ve fallen asleep before getting to it. I throw on a sweatshirt, grab my backpack, and start for the door, almost making it into the hallway in my pajama pants. But some stubborn part of me can’t give Gavin the satisfaction, so I waste precious seconds wiggling out of them and tugging on sweatpants.

Then I race across campus to the Lowell Math and Science Building.

By the time I arrive, the bell rings for the end of class. I peer through the glass cutout in the door to watch my classmates pack up, turning in their tests to Dr. Yamashiro on their way out. My head tips back, and I shut my eyes against the coming tears. I cannot believe I did this. After my dad told me I couldn’t afford to mess up. After he told me my financial situation was dangling on a nonexistent limb. What’s he going to think of me now?

I didn’t need Gavin and his explosions to screw up my chemistry grade. I did it all on my own. Even if the best possible outcome magically occurred and I walked up to Dr. Yamashiro and got him to give me a makeup test, I would probably fail. I’ve spent so much time playing these Gamemaster’s Society games, I let my studies fall completely through the cracks.

“Hey, Maren.” There’s a tap on my shoulder, and I open my eyes to see Gavin looking at me strangely. “Are you okay?”

I take a slow breath. I don’t want to cry in front of him. “I guess all these late nights finally caught up with me. I fell asleep without setting my alarm.”

Gavin winces, glancing back through the open door. When he turns to me, he’s staring at the floor. With a stab, I remember the way we left things only hours ago. I returned his phone and thanked him for throwing his duel. He walked me back to my dorm, broody the whole way; I’d refused to share the reason I needed Remington to win so badly. “Maybe Dr. Yamashiro will let you make it up.”

“There’s no way. He hates athletes. And what excuse could I possibly give? Sorry, I overslept because I was up late breaking countless school rules, not the least of which are breaking curfew, breaking and entering, and underage alcohol consumption.”

“Sounds like a winning case to me.” I slap him on the wrist, and he grins. “You have to try.”

“Yeah,” I say as the final stragglers pass through the door. Minutes remain before Dr. Yamashiro’s next class will start filing in.

“I know this is…” he starts, lips twisting in thought, “a bit manipulative. But use Polly. As an excuse. It’s the truth, isn’t it? You missed class because you’re investigating a secret society you believe will lead you to her.” He shrugs. “Only leave basically all of that out. The teachers at this school are very understanding.”

I nod, like I’m considering it. In reality, Gavin’s idea just stirred up Remington’s words from last night.I don’t like waiting around, letting her have all the power. Maybe a teacher would listen. This could be my opportunity. Remington might’ve lied about Gavin’s phone, but he’s right about this: we can’t keep letting Annabelle have all the control. We’ve been playing her games for days, and all this time, Polly has been suffering in a frigid cell.

Maybe with Dr. Yamashiro’s help, we can keep Annabelle somewhere she can’t hurt Polly or Jane while authorities search the catacombs.

Does Dr. Yamashiro even know about the catacombs? Our story sounds incredible, even without the whole ancient subterranean burial ground aspect. I look at Gavin, someone familiar with the inner workings of the society—someone who could vouch for everything I’ve said. Maybe he’d come in there with me. “Gavin,” I say, but a sudden fear clamps my mouth shut again.

He was in the society before me. He joined itwillingly. As much as I’ve grown to trust him, he could try to talk me out of confiding in Dr. Yamashiro.

Or worse. He could report my actions to Annabelle.

“Yeah?” He asks, leaning in close enough for me to smell the spice meets eucalyptus scent of his shampoo.

“Nothing.” I smile. “I should get in there and accept my fate.”

“Good luck.” He reaches for my hand and squeezes it. When he lets go, his fingertips trail lightly up the length of my arm.

My stomach flips. I back up, and the door jabs my spine as Gavin ambles down the hall, tucking a stack of books beneath his arm, unaware of the effect he just had on me.

A decidedly weird effect.

I start to turn around when some papers slip from his stack, landing on the floor. “Hey, Gavin,” I call, scampering after him. “You dropped—” I stoop down to pick up the stapled stack, which a quick glance reveals to be facts about a drug called Zipromyacin.

---