Page 71 of Terror Tuesday
“Yes.” My voice is smooth and flat. I know exactly what I’m doing. WhatOliviais going to do…that’s what I don’t know.
Oz stares at the image with bloodshot eyes, dumbfounded, then looks my way with a tilted head. “I’m really stoned. Are you stoned? You must be…”
My hands rub through my hair repeatedly, tugging on the ends. “Ugh. Can I get some fucking privacy?”
Oz slips past me like a ghost, but Apollo studies me carefully.
“Is she part of a game I don’t know about?”
The muscles in the back of my jaw ache from clenching. I shouldn’t be this fucking tense after smoking up. “Yes.”
“Let me in. I want to know.”
“No.” I know I sound harsh, especially when my one real friend stiffens at my tone. “I mean, I don’t want you to get involved because you can claim ignorance now. You don’t need to go down for any of this.”
He nods skeptically. “Okay. But the plan is to back us?Delta?”
“It’s for everyone.”
His neck tightens as he swallows, holding back some words he probably wants to scold me with. Only, he can’t. So instead, he grabs the bong and the rest of my Glass Eye sativa strain, then stalks toward the door like it might save me from what’s clawing through my brain.
I slump on the edge of the bed as I give a warning. “Give me my bullets.”
“Tomorrow,” he calls out over his shoulder before shutting the door behind him as a final answer.
Flinging an arm over my forehead, I try to block out some of the dancing lights scattering across the room, creating ominous shadows. It’s making me nauseous. Plus, there’s a random one that I can’t catch even when I raise my hands to try to. It mixes with a tinypingsound every so often.
And a whisper comes through the wind calling me. Or just sayinghey.
Wait a fucking minute…
I think that’s literally someone calling me.
My heart has a mini-attack as I stand up and head to the window, pulling back the curtain and being careful to avoid the light from hitting my face.
Holy shit. There’s a hooded guy down there looking right at me.
He bends to pick up a pebble from the garden and launches it at the glass, the sound echoing through the room. Hurriedly, I snag my mask and toss it back over my head, then open the window.
“I need to know,” the man says, his voice clear on a chilly night. It’s too dark to make him out.
“Know what?”
As if he doesn’t want to say more, he kicks at the dirt. Then, when he raises his face, I recognize him. He lifts his hoodie enough on his arm to showcase the number there. An upside-down seven.
I don’t remember if I closed the window or not, but somehow, I float downstairs and appear out the back. Like I just teleported or something. But the trip takes forever.
My heart’s pounding, making me lose my breath as I come face to face with the man I let go. Malik.
His eyes are wide with fear. But I feel the same about him.
Instead of a warm greeting, I point toward the back hedges, and we step outside of them to the forest behind fraternity row. Clouds cover the moon enough to make us both invisible. And my mask is making it almost impossible to see.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” I grit out through my teeth, sweat pouring down my back.
“You know what happened. You asked me—” His fear turns to rage as his voice quivers. “You know who did this.”
“Who didwhat?”
