Page 147 of Victorious

He touched the device. “Anyone else?” No answer. “Mitch,” he pressed.

“Not yet. But I can see the ride.” A pause, a grunt, the shifting of weight. “You’re heading in the right direction. Just—”

Mitch’s voice suddenly cut out as Victor stumbled, knocked off-balance by a sudden, sideways gust of wind.

He staggered and straightened, slicking back his hair and clutching his books to his chest, wishing he’d invested in a backpack. It was a stormy day, the kind that stripped the trees of their last leaves, and got under your skin, a dampness that turned to rain right as he climbed the steps and ducked into the science building.

He was early—the lecture hall half empty as disheveled seniors filed in. Victor sank into his seat, and swiveled the desk toward him, setting down his books. The one on top fell open, his parents’ latest self-help reduced to a wall of black that ended halfway down the page. He scanned the remaining lines and twirled the marker absently, searching for something worth saving. Had just struck through another unsalvageable phrase when a hand clapped him on the shoulder from behind. A moment later, a body hopped over the row of seats, and dropped into the seat beside him.

Eli.

He wasn’t a strange sight—they’d spent every day together for the last two years, since Cardale showed up in his room a month into sophomore year.

And yet.

A strange sensation washed over Victor when he saw him. Like déjà vu. His mind, reaching for a thought it couldn’t catch.

Eli only smiled, shaking the rain from his hair.

Unlike Victor, he’d obviously been caught in the storm.

Drops flecked the surface of his desk, and Victor’s, landing on the blacked-out text.

When he wiped at it, the water smudged the neat dark lines he’d made. Victor sighed and closed the book. Eli shifted in his seat, rapped his fingers on his leg.

“What has you so excited?”

Eli’s smile tipped into a knowing smirk. “Thesis day.”

Victor had had his staked out for weeks—adrenal function under stress—and Eli knew it, though he’d insisted on keeping his own a secret.

The hall was filling up now. The professor pacing on the stage.

But Victor kept his gaze on his best friend as the other students answered, one by one. And even though Eli had refused to tell Victor his topic, no matter how many times he had tried to pry it out of him, somehow, in this moment, he knew what Eli was about to say. As if it had already happened.

He watched the mask slip from Eli’s face, the light sharpen behind his eyes, the rest of the room blurring until he was the only thing in focus as he said the word.

“EOs.”

VIINOW. THEN.

TO say Mitch was not a fan of heights would be an understatement.

Victor might have taken away the pain in his side, but his palms were still sweating as he scaled the outside of the roller coaster. He reached the top and braced himself against the rail, clutching the metal for dear life as he turned to survey the park.

From here, he could see the tangled silhouettes of the rides, the paths looping beneath them, and Victor’s pale head, drifting like a matchstick between the buildings.

“In position,” Mitch said into the comm. “I see you.”

He tried not to think about the fact Victor looked so small down there because he was so high up. He brought the scope to his eyes again and scanned the park, searching for other signs of life, for EON agents, for Syd. But there was no one, nothing, except the red lights of a second transport van positioned at the far end of the park, beyond another metal gate.

There were four sides to Bethany Adventure Land. Four ways in, and out.

“Anyone else?” asked Victor.

His voice was low, and stiff, and the sound of it made Mitch bristle, the memory of what he’d said still sharp enough to cut.

You had your chance to help. And you failed.