Page 66 of Dark Little Game
Hunter is still on his own little mission to find out what happened to me that night.
Other than Wes, everybody else seems to have forgotten about it.
So what? The person must have gotten it from a different local hospital or pharmacy.
That’s the thing. There’s been a shortage of that particular sedative for over a year, and it only lasts for 6 months, stored properly. Whoever was using it must have their own means of access.
How do you even know what type of drug it was?
Easy. Went to the campus hospital, told them my back hurt, then while I was in the room alone, the nurse left the computer open. I searched your name, found the toxicology report.
Damn.
I also got into the student darkrooms in the photography studio. No one in there uses the brand of photo paper that was on your stalker’s pictures.
Great. So whoever took those photos was working independently.
Probably in their own personal darkroom. From looking at the class roster, no one in Onyx, Luros or Daggers even takes photo classes, either.
Great. So we have no leads, and no hope.
Chill. I’m going to figure this shit out. Whoever’s fucking with you will be punished.
Punished, huh? You going to spank them and call them a bad little attacker?
Not funny. Meet me after your football practice. We have a lot to talk about.
Wedohave a lot to talk about.
But what he doesn’t know is that the topic of conversation tonight is going to revolve around him, not me.
Honestyused to feel like it meant something, in Onyx Society, and I’m not letting Hunter rip all of that apart.
We’re supposed to tell each other our darkest secrets.
We’re supposed to know each other better than anyone does.
Confronting Hunter Knox may be a bad idea, but it’s exactly what I’m going to do.
The momentI’m on the football field again, I’m like a well-oiled machine.
My thighs and calves burn.
I’vemissedthis.
As I run the football to the endzone, I remember what I’m actually good at.
Today is only practice, but I’ve been pushing myself to the limit, and I’m being rewarded for it.
“Play like that this weekend, and we’ll put fear into Tennyson for the whole season,” Coach Madrigal says as Weston and I jog over to the sideline.
Weston looks happier than I’ve seen him in weeks. “We’ve got their asses already,” he tells Coach.
“Still need to have respect for them, Knox.”
“Coach is right. We do,” I tell Weston. “I’ve seen you get too cocky on the field and fumble passes.”
Coach Madrigal is still smiling, though. “You two are playing better than ever. I’m proud of you. But don’t let that get to your head, either.”
