Page 170 of For the Fans

He and Bea staggered over to me, while across the room, Frankie was sitting up, shooting me a very suspicious look.

“I, uh… just need some fresh air,” I lied, pretending to be woozy and drunk, when in reality, the only real high I was feeling was more like awithdrawalfor a certain set of lips. “I might throw up.”

“Oh, no!” Bea squealed in distress, grabbing me by the arm and tugging me toward the bathroom. “Come with me. I’ll get you some water and rub your back.”

“No… No, I’mfine.” I tried to yank myself away from her. “I just need to go—”

“What’s wrong with him??” Micah asked, rushing over with Frankie hot on his trail.

“Fuck me…” I muttered under my breath, rubbing my eyes.

“He feels sick,” Bea hiccupped, brushing her fingers through my hair.

“Don’t puke on my shoes!” Zeb cried, launching himself away from me.

“Is that right?” Frankie crossed her arms over her chest, narrowing her gaze at me. “Feelingsick, are you, Aviel?”

It was clear she wasn’t buying my little ruse, but I barely even cared anymore. It was eleven-fifteen and I still needed to get all the way back to campus if I was going to make it to Kyran by midnight. For all I knew, he could already be there, waiting outside for me and thinking I ditched him.

Fuck this. I knew I should have given him my key.

“You guys, it’s okay. Really.” I finally yanked myself away from Bea’s grip, stumbling back to the door. “I just need some air. I’ll be right… back.”

Tugging my phone out of my pocket while I whipped open the door, I found a text from five minutes earlier.

Kyran: I’m here… Are you back yet?

“Fuck,” I whispered, diving out into the hall and rushing down the steps.

Me: I got held up... I’m so sorry. I’m on my way now, just sit tight

I was practically running to the T, but it didn’t even matter because I sat there waiting for it fortwentyfuckingminutes. New Year’s Eve had everything on a stupid delay, and I felt like an idiot for not getting out of there sooner. There were no Ubers, no Lyfts. Nothing.

I was stuck waiting on the goddamn train to get me back to him.

It eventually showed up, and now I’m on it, frantically bouncing my knee, watching the minutes disappear before my eyes.

At my stop, I leap off the thing and take off running again, across the goddamn campus. By the time I get to my building, it’s fuckingeleven fifty-eight, and I can’t even wait for the stupid slow-ass elevator. I jog up four flights of stairs to my floor, rushing up the hall to find Kyran sitting on the floor in front of my door.

“I’m so… sorry…” I gasp, out of breath with blood rushing in my ears. Dropping to my knees in front of him, I struggle to suck air into my lungs before I pass out. “Wouldn’t… let me leave. Train… no Ubers… fucking ran… Jesus Christ…”

I’m seeing spots.

Kyran’s lips slope into an amused grin. His hands reach out and he drapes them over my chest. “Breathe, Avi.” I pull in a deep one, and he chuckles. “It’s okay. You made it.”

“Barely…” I huff.

People begin shouting from somewhere up the hall.

They’re counting down.

Kyran bites his lip, fingers sliding up my neck. I know I should probably bring him inside… I don’t know if we can do this out here, in the open.Someone might see…

But the chanting out numbers gets to five, then four, then three…

“Two,” he whispers, like he doesn’t give a single fuck about who could see us.

He just wants to kiss me.