“You’ve got this, naek— Little Sister.” Chas stands up and huffs a breath as I quirk an eyebrow at him. “You’ve studied hard: you’re going to nail this.”
“If you stop calling me naekkeo, I’m going to get angry,” I tell him, but he just quirks his mouth in a very wry sort of smile.
“If I keep calling you that, Parrish is going to get angry,” he corrects, and I sigh.
“Chasm—” I start, but he’s already shaking his head and pointing past me toward the classroom.
“What did I say? Stop worrying about romance. Go do your exam. Go kill that exam.” He flicks his fingers at me dismissively, and I roll my eyes.
I do as he says, setting my bag down next to my desk, cracking my knuckles, and slipping into my seat. If ever I needed to have confidence in myself, it’s now. Because the idea of being able to see my sister in person is a tantalizing treat that I can’t ignore—something that Justin knows full well.
Our teacher instructs us to set our iPads on our desks, directs us to the link for the multiple-choice portion of the exam, and off we go.
During final exams, classes are structured a little differently. Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday are each split in half with an exam in the morning and one in the afternoon. So today, I’m tackling my exams for first and second period. Tomorrow will be for third and fourth period, and Wednesday for fifth and sixth. Thursday is for any late or make-up assignments, and one last goodbye, and Friday is for students like Parrish who might’ve missed—with a valid excuse—any of the previous exams.
There’s a brief break in the middle of the first exam, but I take it inside the classroom as Chas suggested—just in case. There’s no point in tempting fate, not even if I want to see him so badly that my palms itch. Not even knowing that Parrish is back and intends on regaining his position of authority with the student body.
I feel confident about the direction the exam takes, so confident in fact that I’m feeling pretty good when I hit submit, pack my iPad up, and head into the hall for lunch.
Chasm is usually waiting for me, or else he shows up within a minute.
Only … that’s not how it happens today.
My first period teacher locks up and disappears down the hall toward the teacher’s lounge as my eyes scan the passing crowd, looking for that signature yellow lightning bolt.
Nothing.
I’m not worried at first, leaning my back up against the wall and sliding my phone from my blazer pocket. No calls or texts from Justin, no word about Maxine. With a sigh of frustration, I text my bio dad first asking if I could please see proof that my sister’s still doing alright, and then I shoot a quick message off to Chasm.
Where are you?
The minutes tick by, and he still isn’t here. That worries me. I have a feeling that, even if he somehow wasn’t done with his exam, he’d drop it, just to make sure I was alright. Not that I necessarily approve of that course of action, but it’s what he’d do.
Instead, a chorus of footsteps from my right draws my attention up and over.
It’s Veronica Fisher, the pain-in-my-ass redhead, with her scowling brunette friend and their group of bullies. Fantastic. I don’t wait to see what they have to say, nor do I even consider talking to them at all. Instead, I turn and immediately take off in the direction of the handicapped bathroom at a full-on sprint.
Gamer Girl versus bully bitches. My favorite.
If I can get there and lock myself in, then I can message or call whoever I need to—or even just wait them out. They won’t hover in front of that door forever, not with exams taking place.
Unfortunately for me, the security guards are back to their usual rotation, with only two on the campus grounds at a time. Chasm was right about that, too, how one annoying complaint from one annoying student would restore the usual order around here.
God forbid anyone holds these brats accountable.
The girls catch up to me before I can reach the door handle, hauling me back and knocking my phone from my hand. It spins across the floor and slams into a bank of lockers. Not that it matters: I wouldn’t have had time to use it anyway.
I’m dragged into the fray of girls, and it isn’t long before I see the silver flash of a utility knife. I know they’re kept on campus and used in several of the classrooms for various purposes. How Veronica and her friends keep getting access to them, I’m not sure. Hell, maybe they brought them from home?
Whitehall Prep requires a gate code to even set foot on campus. We certainly don’t have metal detectors or drug dogs or anything of the like.
