Page 104 of Massacre Monday

“Don’t you have class?” I ask.

“Yep. I’ll be in English, but text me if you need anything.”

“Thanks for babysitting last night, Henry,” I say, despite feeling like I babysat him just as much as he did me.

“Thank Aiden.”

“Did he find out anything?”

Henry checks his phone again. “No.”

We both catch gazes and hold them, worry passing between us that neither wants to admit. “We’ll find him,” I say.

He only nods, then turns toward center campus and strolls away.

Page Hall is filled with students talking loudly about Terror Tuesday coming up tomorrow. Normally, I would be excited, probably discussing how I could earn back some points forSigma, but now, I’m distraught. Halloween escape rooms onThetagrounds just don’t appeal to me.

Mitch still isn’t in the auditorium when I enter, and I silently add him to the list of people around me that have disappeared. Every time I think of Gwen, my stomach twists into an unbreakable knot.

Will I find Ryan’s face on our door?

The thought makes me so lightheaded with fear, I sink into the nearest seat before I collapse.

The professor enters in a huff, her eyes immediately trailing to me and narrowing behind her thick, black-rimmed glasses that she usually discards during class. She calls the room to attention by tossing her leather bag on the table. Everyone straightens up.

With a little wave in front of her, her palms open to demonstrate her first point. “Mid-term grades are now posted.” She leans against the table in the front and finds me again, then raises her voice. “Miss Freidenberg, if you wish to stay in this class, you need to come to my office hours directly after.”

The blood stops moving in my arteries as she calls me out. Students shift in their seats to look at me, gauging my reaction. I’m sure my red cheeks are enough to give them all a good show.

As Professor Hall starts the lesson, I slyly open my laptop and find my exam score online. My breath catches in my chest.

Another zero.

What is going on?

It’s torturous, but I manage to sit still through the rest of class, focusing on the board behind Professor Hall so I don’t have to look at her.

As soon as it’s over, she gives us her back, and I slowly gather my things, stuffing them in my bag. With every step down toward the front of the room, my heart beats harder. I think I can even smell my own fear.

I clear my throat when I reach the bottom. Spinning around, she tosses her shorter light brown hair back over her shoulders to behold me. “Ah, Miss Freidenberg. Let’s go.”

I’m trapped into following, though I think about making a run for it and sprinting away. If she says something nasty, I may be tempted to hurt her, and then I’d get kicked out, or worse. So I have to restrain myself.

It’s a silent walk to her office, an oak-covered room that smells of dust and pretension. Without removing her eyes fromme, she slides into a leather tufted office chair while I take the stiff seat across the desk, holding on to my book bag like it’s armor. She stares at me for so long, I wonder when she’ll speak, but she never does. The tension in the room grows to an enormous entity, the trunk of the elephant blaring a silent noise between us.

“I guess you want me to speak first. Well, I, um, I’m not sure why I failed the quiz and the exam.”

“Perhaps yourboyfriendhas been a distraction to you, though I noticed he seems to have disappeared from class,” she snaps at me like the answer was already prepared.

My eyebrow twitches. She doesn’t mean Ryan. Does she mean… “Mitch?”

“Yes. Mitch McCloud. How does it feel to lose everything? I heard you lost on Massacre Monday, now your boyfriend and grades… But I suppose you still have a few things hanging on by a thread.”

“I’m lost. Mitch isn’t my boyfriend, and why try to be cruel? Why is this any of your business?”

The leather of her chair squeaks as she leans back and places the tips of her fingers together in a triangle shape. “Oh.” A fake laugh escapes her. “You’re as self-involved as I suspected.”

“You don’t know me.”