“I'm aware,” Church replies coolly, expression hardening as he looks over at Ranger. He rises to his feet then, and everyone else follows. That sort of charisma is scary as hell. And yet, I head into the hallway and up one flight of stairs with the rest of the guys, watching as the twins pull down the attic door and climb the steps.
“Be careful!” I call out, rising onto my tiptoes and biting my lip. I can barely handle what's happened thus far. Imagine if one of the twins disappeared into that creepy attic and never came out?
“Dude,” Tobias says, crouching down and looking at us through the door, his phone in his hand, flashlight on to illuminate the gloom. “Someone clearly patched this shit up.”
“What the actual fuck?” Ranger groans, running his fingers through his hair and sighing. He exchanges a look with Church, and their fearless leader nods. Without skipping a beat, Ranger heads back down the stairs and walks straight up to Mark Grandam's room, banging his fist on the door.
Surprisingly enough, it opens up and there he is, a sleepy, exhausted Mark Grandam aka Tampon Guy. He squints stupidly at us, one hand curled around the edge of his door, a scowl plastered on his almost-pretty face. Like, maybe he’d be hot if he didn’t have the personality of a cum stain.
“What do you want, Woodruff?” he snaps, and then Ranger's shoving the door in—hard. Hard enough that it slams into Mark and sends him stumbling back. “Get out of my room, you fucking psycho.”
The drama's too much for me to resist, so I clomp down the stairs with Church right behind me, Tobias and Micah trailing after him.
“Official Student Council business,” Church declares as the twins burst in and grab Mark by the arms, hauling him back and shoving him down on his bed. Church flicks the light on and surveys the situation with his arms crossed over his chest.
Mark's roommate, some unrecognizable meathead jock, groans and covers his head with his pillow, resigned to whatever's going to happen. At Adamson Academy, you do not fuck with the Student Council.
“What the hell is this?” Mark snarls as Ranger grabs the chair from Mark's roommate's desk and stands on it, pulling a pocketknife out of his pj pants to poke at the ceiling with. “And what is the little tampon-loving weasel doing in here? He's not part of the Student Council, not unless you fired that fag Ross.” Mark scowls at me, and I flip him off, pushing my glasses up my nose.
I'd almost forgotten I was supposed to be keeping my secret. Good thing I probably look a hot mess in the baggy Adamson hoodie I was hiding under my jacket, my sweatpants spattered with paint from that time I helped Aunt Elisa turn her living room purple. Pretty sure I'm believably a dude right now, an ugly dude maybe, but a dude.
“Call Ross a fag again, and I'll be forced to let the twins loose,” Church says, smiling this ruthless little smile that assures me he's not joking, not even a little bit. “Now shut your mouth and sit still. It'll be over before you know it.”
“This is such BS,” Mark grumbles, tearing his arms from the twins' grips and scowling. “When Eugene gets back from Cancun tomorrow, he's going to rip you a new one.”
My ears perk up, and I feel this awful icy chill wash through me.
“You've been in contact with Eugene?” I ask, feeling myself start to shake with a rush of adrenaline.
Mark just rolls his eyes at me, clearly not intending on answering my question. Micah grabs him by the shirt and jerks him forward, so that they're face to face.
“All it takes is a simple yes or no, asswad,” he barks, and I can see the muscles in his arms tensing. Micah McCarthy is not afraid to start a fight, especially not if he feels he’s somehow helping out a friend by doing it. These Student Council boys are more ruthless than I thought.
“Fuck, man, lay off. No, I haven't talked to Eugene. We're not girls. We don't need to gossip over text all day.” A sigh of relief escapes me, and I decide in the interest of just getting this over with that I won't mention his misogynistic little quip.
Mark shoves Micah back so hard that the asshole jock slams his head against the wall and lets out a string of colorful curses.
Church, meanwhile, just watches it all unfold from the wall near the door while Ranger pulls out his phone and snaps plenty of pictures.
“We're done here,” Church declares, and the twins move away from Mark. We exit the room in a group, and I cringe as the door slams shut so hard behind us that tiny bits of plaster flake from the ceiling in the hall. The very, very dark hall. The lights in the downstairs common room are on, but it's dark as pitch up here.
