Page 9 of Snake

Knox

Nim looks up as she’s exiting the girls’ bathroom, and audibly gulps for air when she locks eyes with me where I’m standing leaning against the wall across the hall. Her lips form my name, but then she shakes her head and turns away.

It’s easy to keep pace with her—my legs are much longer than hers, and I have much more stamina. She’s supposed to be heading for her Sociology class, but she’s crossing the courtyard instead. I guess she thinks she can outrun me and get to safety before I pounce.

Optimistic. But not terribly realistic.

I angle toward her, and she hastily changes direction. Again, again, until she comes to a dead stop. She’s staring at a wall with one window, its gothic-inspired ironwork heavily overgrown with ivy. There’s a massive oak tree to her left, and the corner of the building to her right.

She spins around, glaring. “Stop following me!”

I hold up my hands, a calming smile on my mouth as I step slowly closer to her. “Stop running away.”

Her glare intensifies before she heads in the oak tree’s direction. I slip easily in beside her, grabbing her sleeve and spinning her around to face me. I immediately let go, but she tugs on her blazer like I tried to rip it off her.

“Leave me alone!”

“It’s tradition to accept any gifts that come your way this week.”

Her mouth opens, but she says nothing for a beat before slowly closing her lips. Suspicion narrows her eyes. “A gift?”

I nod.

Her frown deepens. We stare at each other in silence. “It’s a wonderful gift. You’ll like it.”

She laughs, but the sound cuts off prematurely. “Look, Knox...”

The way she says my name, it’s like she’s not even sure if it’s really me. Honestly, I can’t blame her. I’m a little giddy right now. Possibly because I skipped breakfast. Another explanation for the giddiness is the simple fact that I’ve forgotten what it feels like to woo a girl. Ever since Amy...

She shifts her shoulders and rattles out, “I’m not going to the dance.”

I cock my head to the side. “We had a deal, love. We let you off your pretty little leash, and you go to the dance with us.”

Her mouth squirms, but something like resolve hardens in her eyes. “I don’t care. Do what you want, but I’m not going.”

My eyebrow twitches. “Do what I want?” I repeat slowly. “Love, I don’t think you understand. This isn’t a negotiation. You uphold your end of the bargain, or this deal falls apart.”

When she says nothing, I add, “It’ll all go back to the way it was. The stalking,” I step closer. “The harassment.”

“I’m not scared of you,” Nim says, her hazel eyes sparkling even as her chin trembles with the lie.

Huh. Since we let our little bird go, guess her wings have gotten stronger. But we can’t let her fly away. Not yet.

Perhaps never.

“You should be. Or have you forgotten how cruel we can be?”

I slip a hand in my blazer and take out a small box. It’s barely two inches in diameter, but Nim’s eyes glue to it. She steps back when I come closer, like it’s a bomb, not a gift box.

“What is it?” When she looks up at me, I can’t tell if the light I see in her eyes is delight or horror.

I rattle the box so she can hear that there’s something inside. If there’s one thing that never fails to deliver, it’s her curiosity. She can’t keep her eyes off the box, her eyes flickering over its shape like she’s trying to puzzle out what could fit inside.

“Only one way to find out,” I tell her, holding out the box.

She takes it out of my hand and cradles it in her palm, glancing up at me almost fearfully before slipping off the ribbon and opening the cardboard lid. “What the fuck is this?” Disdain drips from her voice as she holds up the tape measure, slits-for-eyes demanding an explanation.

“This...” I carefully take the tape measure from her and slide it between my fingers. “Is how you end up wearing a beautifully tailored Valentino gown on Friday, and not a fucking potato sack.”

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