Page 24 of That Pretty Pucking Mouth

My fingers hover over the screen, tracing her beautiful face before clicking the phone off and turning back to her window.

She’s staring at her phone, her eyes wide.

Pretty little dove.

Chapter 5

I’m staring at my phone with no one to talk to, no one to confide in, so I open the Notes app and start typing away before I lose my fucking mind.

What the fuck is happening?

These past few weeks have practically been hell on earth. Cassidy is now super suspicious of me. She keeps asking me about what happened at the party, but I can’t tell her.

I can’t bring her into this.

Meanwhile, every time I go to class, I see the cops hanging around, questioning students. Every time I see them, I feel so nauseous and nervous…I feel like I’m losing my mind.

But it seems they haven’t caught on to me yet. Or they’re just taking their sweet time, gathering evidence against me before arresting me.

Oh, God. Should I just run away to Mexico? I’ve got some money saved up, I guess it would be okay.

Fuck, I can’t. My mom would kill me way before the guilt does.

I can’t live like this. I’m going fucking crazy. Every time the doorbell goes, I feel like the cops are finally here for me.

Is this how criminals feel?

Has the masked guy gone to the cops yet? I feel like if he had, they would have arrested me by now… but that comment…

Has he? Honestly, the suspense and paranoia are killing me. Who the fuck is he anyway? I asked Cassidy about his tattoo, but she didn’t know him.

How am I supposed to find him before he rats me out to the police?

Ugh! My mom is calling again. I wonder what she wants. She thinks I can’t keep ignoring her calls forever. She has no idea.

Fuck! I have class tomorrow morning, and I haven’t graded the papers Prof. Jennings gave me.

I need to focus.

The fifth floor of the library at midday is a sanctuary of silence. Sunlight streams through the large windows, casting soft, golden patches on the carpeted floor. Aside from a few students huddled together by a group of couches, half asleep with textbooks spread around them, the place is deserted.

The quiet is thick, only broken by the low hum of the air conditioner and the occasional rustle of paper. I sit at a table by the window, my laptop open but untouched. The blank document on the screen a reflection of my thoughts.

I came here for the stillness, hoping it would help me think, but all it did was give my mind more room to wander.

I am supposed to be writing a paper on social learning theory for my social psychology class, but I can’t focus. My notes are scattered in front of me, but none of the words are sticking. Every time I try to concentrate on the theory, my mind drifts back to that night––Jack, the masked guy, the questions I don’t have answers to.

I tap my pen against my notebook, trying to shove these thoughts aside, but it’s useless. I’m supposed to be thinking about how people learn from their environment, how we mirror the behavior we see in others. Yet all I can think about is how I feel like I’m being watched, like someone’s just waiting for me to slip up.

This is going to drive me fucking crazy.

I rub my eyes, frustrated. The stillness I came here for is making everything worse.

My phone buzzes on the table, breaking the quiet. I glance down and see Cassidy’s name flash across the screen. She’s been checking on me more often these past few weeks ever since what happened.

I feel grateful for her concern and guilty for keeping her in the dark, but I don’t know how to tell her. I don’t even fully understand it myself.

Sighing, I swipe my thumb across the screen and open her message.

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