Page 109 of Fall

They continue to argue, but I tune them out. The heat in my core is distracting. After another few minutes of us just standing together in the middle of the courtyard, I finally lean into Elijah.

“You have to let me go,” I whisper.

He shakes out of his trance, like he’s being woken up, and immediately takes his hands off me. He whips his head around, observing the rest of our group, and abruptly disappears into the shadows of the school.

“Where’s he going?” I ask the guys anxiously. “Ryan is still on campus.”

“He’ll be fine, Eves. He’s doing what he does best,” Taylor answers.

We all head back to Emily Hall, leaving me to wonder…What the hell does Elijah do “best”?

28

“Can you hurry up?” Taylor groans from our doorway.

“Can we just enjoy being in our room for a while?” I shout back from my bedroom.

“NO! We have to get back soon,” he continues to whine. “I promise, I’ll bring you back tomorrow.”

Celeste rolls her eyes. “Let’s just go. He’s not going to stop.”

“They act like Ryan is gonna jump out from the bushes in the middle of campus,” I grumble.

“He may not, Eves, but someone might. You and Micah still haven’t figured out who got the jump on you during winter break.”

“Thatwas during winter break. I’d be okay if we had to go over there for spring break or something, but it’s the middle of the damn term! I don’t want to live with a bunch of frat brothers and the bullshit that it comes with.”

I lay back on my bed and stare at the ceiling, but the luxury only lasts for a few minutes. Taylor is pouting by my bedroom door.

“Just pack for the night. I’ll bring you back tomorrow. I need to get back.” He gives me his best puppy dog impression. “Please,” he pleads. “It’s important.”

I kick off my blankets like a toddler and roll off the bed with an exaggerated sigh.

“Fine.”

When we enter the frat house, there’s smoke coming from the kitchen and filling the common room.

“What the hell is that?” I ask, nearly gagging at the stench.

Taylor’s face pales as his eyes go wide.

“Fuck!” he shouts and runs to the kitchen. “What the hell happened?! All you had to do was wait for the timer to go off!”

“I did!” someone shouts.

Celeste and I walk around the corner and see Caleb looking distraught over a sauté pan with a pile of what looks like burned chocolate on the counter. He’s wearing a baker’s apron that’s covered in food splatter over a white dress shirt with his sleeves rolled up to the elbow.

What the hell?

“Did you check the oven?” Taylor asks.

Caleb whips his head in Taylor’s direction. “Did you tell me to?”

Taylor curses under his breath, grabs an oven mitt, and pulls out something charcoal black, adding more smoke to the already smoggy kitchen.

“What’s going on?” I finally ask.

At the sound of my voice, Caleb spins on his heels.

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