Page 33 of Checks & Bonds

My jaw tightened as I struggled to find an answer that made sense. Instead, I decided to remain silent.

Her silence told me everything and nothing at once. The streets narrowed as we approached our destination, the weight of our unresolved tension pressing down on both of us.

The campus loomed ahead, a dark silhouette against the moonlit sky. I parked the car and killed the engine, the sudden silence almost deafening. Freya glanced at me, her expression unreadable.

"Go to your dorm and get your shit," I said, my voice flat. "You have fifteen minutes."

She hesitated, then spoke. "There's no way your dorm will fit both of us."

I raised an eyebrow. "Who says we're staying in my dorm room?"

Her eyes widened, a mix of surprise and suspicion flashing across her face.

I rolled my eyes. "Don't act so surprised. My grandfather owned a house off-campus."

"But you, your sister, you're both in dorms," she said, her confusion evident.

"Maybe we want to experience the normal college life," I replied. "But you changed that."

"It's not just me," she retorted. "You showed up. I don't know anything about Ravenwood Society, but I know you'd have to claim someone, even if I didn't show up."

"I wouldn't have showed up at all if I didn't think you'd act like a spoiled child acting out," I said sharply. "Thirteen minutes."

She scowled, her lips pressing into a thin line before she turned on her heel and headed towards Arctic Tundra, the female dorms.

I watched her go, a sigh escaping my lips. The night air was cool against my skin, but it did little to quell the fire raging inside me. Freya had always been a storm in my life, unpredictable and relentless.

As she disappeared into the dormitory building, I leaned against the car and ran a hand through my hair. This wasn’t how things were supposed to go. But then again, when had anything ever gone according to plan where Freya was concerned?

I trudged up to my room, the silence in the dormitory hallway almost oppressive. The fluorescent lights flickered slightly, casting an eerie glow on the pale walls. Reaching my door, I turned the key and stepped inside.

The room was exactly as I'd left it. Books neatly lined up on the shelf, bed perfectly made, clothes arranged by color in the closet. I liked things in order. It gave me control in a world where chaos seemed to reign.

I grabbed my duffel bag from under the bed and began packing with practiced efficiency. Shirts folded crisply, pants smoothed out, socks rolled into tight balls. Everything had its place. Each item that went into the bag was like a small piece of sanity being restored.

My movements were methodical. I placed my laptop carefully between layers of clothing to avoid damage, ensuring it was secure. Toiletries went into a separate compartment, each item checked and double-checked.

I could have called someone to help, but I needed this distraction. It kept my mind from spiraling into dark places where questions about Freya and our predicament festered like open wounds.

With the last of my belongings stowed away, I zipped up the duffel and slung it over my shoulder. A quick glance around confirmed everything was in order. I locked the door behind me and headed back down to the car.

The night air felt colder now, or maybe it was just my impatience getting the better of me.

Freya still wasn't back. Leaning against the car, I checked my watch: she had three minutes left.

The seconds ticked by slowly, each one a needle pricking at my already frayed nerves. If she wasn’t back in three minutes, I'd grab her myself and throw her over my shoulder if I had to.

I waited, eyes scanning the entrance of Arctic Tundra for any sign of her. The street remained quiet, only the distant hum of traffic breaking the silence.

Two minutes left.

I clenched and unclenched my fists, trying to keep calm. She knew better than to push me further tonight.

One minute.

The front door of Arctic Tundra finally creaked open, but no one emerged yet.

"What the hell was that?"

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