Page 82 of The Vipers and Their Venom

“It’s not my fault,” Jarena pouts. “But I am looking for tips, so if you have any, let me know. I’d hate to be a disappointment to my husband on our wedding night.”

“Looking how you do,” I say, “I can’t imagine such a thing is possible.”

“Aww, you’re sweet. So,” she rolls onto her stomach and props her chin on her hand, “what’s your body count, then?”

I realize she’s asking how many guys I’ve slept with. “Three,” I answer truthfully.

“I’m only ever going to sleep with my husband. I think any more than that is a little slutty.”

“Jarena!” Faith cries. “Don’t slut shame Vani!”

My cheeks pinken. “No, it’s fine. Everyone’s different. I just don’t want to get old and look back and have regrets.”

“Fair,” Angelica says. “Hey, can I charge my phone? I totally forgot to do it earlier.” She waves her phone and charger at me.

“Yeah, of course. The plug is over there.”

“Thanks, babe.” She wanders over to charge her phone, and then straightens and looks around. “You don’t have much stuff in your room.”

“No, I prefer the minimalistic look,” I lie.

Angelica goes to my desk and yanks open one of the drawers. Who does she think she is? The girl is so domineering.

Shit. I suddenly remember the file I took from the dean’s office.

How am I going to explain having another girl’s file? Maybe it’ll be a good way to finally bring up the subject of my sister and find out if they know her, but I’m also fully aware that I will look like a complete stalker if they find it.

I’m already conscious of what these girls think of me, and I don’t want them to leave here whispering about me behind their hands.

Why the hell do I still have the folder, anyway? Saint already got his eyes on it, and the fact the Vipers know I have it still worries me. I should have gotten rid of it then.

I wonder why the Vipers haven’t asked me about it. Aren’t they curious about the reason behind me breaking into the dean’s office? I know I would be. But maybe this place just teaches people to mind their own business. Or perhaps they simply don’t care, or they were too distracted having their fun with me to think about it.

A tiny voice tells me it’s because I don’t matter to them, and therefore what I do doesn’t matter, but I shake it off, preferring to let the powerful feeling stay and not give in to thoughts of being inadequate.

Still, either way, I need to sort the file out, and it’s a sign of how screwed up my head is that I haven’t done so yet.

It’s clear the dean hasn’t noticed the file is missing, but I’m guessing that’s because he’s not needed to use it for any reason. I got lucky with that. If he did notice it missing, he might decide to do a room search, and if that happened, I’d be screwed for sure. The dean would be straight on the phone to my dad, who would then insist on taking me home. I’d promised him no trouble, and breaking into the dean’s office and stealing things doesn’t count as not getting in trouble.

I pause, pondering what I should do. I could destroy the file—burn it or tear it up into tiny pieces and try to flush it—but then the chances of the dean noticing it missing will only increase as each day passes. What if Dean Rossi decides to do a search, and the Vipers drop me in it, rather than have him search their rooms? After all, they might not know who the folder belongs to, but they know I took something. I’d like to think people know not to be snitches in this place, but I can’t rely on that.

I think of the Dean’s office and the secretary’s desk positioned in an alcove to one side of his door. While I don’t want to risk trying to break in again, I could slip it onto her desk when she’s not there, or into one of her drawers. That way, it won’t be missing, it’ll just have been misplaced. There might be some head scratching as to how it got there, but surely that won’t be enough to create any real issues, and even if it did, the finger wouldn’t be pointing at me.

“Earth to Vani? Are you in, Vani?”

I realize I’ve been lost in thought and haven’t heard a thing that’s been said. Angelica is staring at me like I’m a sandwich short of a lunch box, and I flick on a smile.

“Sorry, just thinking about those biker guys.”

She lets out a laugh and shoves me with her shoulder. “Dirty skank.”

I laugh as well, but there’s a little part of me that feels like she’s being serious. I find myself wishing I’d lied about the number of men I’ve slept with. Maybe I should have just said one, because now I feel like a total whore. It’s not even like three is that many…though I guess most people would have put some time between them rather than having them all at the same time …. And in the same room. And them being friends…and brothers.

Faith opens one of the face masks. “Lie back, Vani. I’ll put yours on first.”

I appreciate her stepping in. It’s like she sensed my discomfort and wanted to change the subject.

“Thanks,” I tell her, meaning it. “Which one is that?”

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