Page 33 of Freshmeet
“We’re robbing Duncan,” Kat said, her smile turning sinister.
Mona sifted through the container. “It’s time for karma to come for his ass.”
“Oh, let’s go.” My heart raced thinking about getting into trouble again, but I was done playing it safe.
Kat tied up her bright pink hair. “Yeah?”
I nodded. “Yeah. Let’s do it.” It was time to be more than the bail money. It was time for me to be an accomplice.
The back door to the Soy Bomb, the Beta Alpha Beta house, opened, and their president, Andrea, walked out and over to us.
“Shit,” Kat muttered, and everyone hid their masks.
Closing the back of the van and stepping directly in her path, I smiled brightly. “Hey there.”
“Sarah.” She peered around me and lifted her chin. “Kat. What are you guys doing here?”
I shuffled back. “Uh?—”
“Revenge,” Kat said bluntly.
Andrea considered her former big and slowly nodded. “Understood.” She patted the side of the van and sauntered away, joint in hand.
“It’s a shame she deactivated.” Mona sighed, tying on a red sequined eye mask.
“All right. If we’re not back in ten minutes, leave without us.” Kat’s face was deadly serious.
“You got it.” Rae gave her a thumbs up, then set a timer on her phone.
Kat rolled her eyes, bumping my shoulder. “Mask up.”
Even though wearing a mask was pointless because it was obvious who we were, I put the damn thing on.
Kat yanked down her rubber mask and took a decisive step forward. “Let’s do this.”
We followed her back down the alley. At the corner of the backyard, we stopped and scoped out the scene, then rushed to Duncan’s window on the main floor of the party house. One byone, we climbed inside as quietly as possible. This was made exponentially more difficult by the garbage clothes we were wearing.
Somehow, I made it over the windowsill, dress intact.
“It smells awful in here,” I said, wishing my mask wasn’t full of holes. Suffocation would have been preferable to the smell of what I assumed was rotting food and dirty laundry.
“Guess Mal hasn’t been over this week,” Kat said as she started to dig through his closet. “You guys check under the bed and in his desk.
I eyed the unmade bed surrounded by piles of takeout bags and empty energy drink cans. “I’ll take the desk.”
Mona gave me a flat look but kicked the smallest pile of clothes out of her way and dropped to the floor. “Holy shit. Duncan is a fucking monster.”
Kat snorted, throwing a sports bag out of her way.
I plucked Duncan’s football jersey off his gamer chair with two fingers and flung it onto the ever-growing pile of belongings in the middle of the floor. Sitting at his desk, I sorted through drawers and accidentally bumped the keyboard. Both screens lit up, and I jerked back. “What the . . .”
“Found the fireworks and weed,” Kat said, her voice muffled inside the closet.
“Found the booze,” Mona said, her head under the bed, but her hand in the air holding an unopened bottle of vodka.
I leaned in, horrified to find a collage comprised of pictures of blond women I knew—myself and Morgan included. As I scanned the second screen, my mouth went dry. Dead center was Emma, topless and smiling at me. “Guys,” I said, unable to pull my eyes from the picture.
“What?” Kat huffed, dragging a trash bag from the closet.
