Page 30

30

SAWYER

A fter I’ve packed and submitted all the coursework that’s due, I feel so free. There’s one exam on Tuesday that I’ll study a bit more for, but otherwise I’m basically on break.

My head buzzes with all the cool things Jamie and I could do during the week. My phone rings and a picture of Ash sticking her tongue out pops up on the screen, making me smirk.

I swipe to answer. “Hi, weirdo. Do you know what pic you’ve got as your profile?”

“Yeah, the tongue one. Hey, I need a favor.”

“Okay.”

“Crosby’s been texting he needs his coat back before I leave for break, and I ignored him because I thought I didn’t have it.” She huffs out a breath. “Then I tossed my stuff in the back seat, and guess what I found.”

“Fuck’s sake.”

“Yeah, he definitely planted it back there on purpose when I gave him and another guy a ride home from the tavern on Wednesday. Listen, can you ride with me to return it? I’ll drop you over at Jamie and War’s right after.”

“Are you afraid to go alone? Maybe Jamie should come with us?”

“Hell no, I’m not afraid. Crosby’s monster strong, for sure, but I’m a little rain-forest PD frog. He doesn’t know—or need to—but me scared of an aggressive frat guy? No way.”

“You’re a what frog?”

She laughs. “A golden poison dart frog. They’re all little and sunny and cute. But even fully grown at four centimeters, they’ve got enough toxin to kill ten to twenty people. So, you know, predator beware.”

“And how are you like one?”

“Seesaw! We don’t have time for this discussion right now. If you’re coming with me, I need you to say so, so I can text my cousin not to pick you up. And I need you to come down with your stuff, ‘cause baby’s gotta bounce.”

My tone is full-on mock harassed, but I agree. “Yeah, sure, I’ll ride with you. But I don’t see why you need me if you’re really a poisonous frog.”

“It’s strategy. I’ll explain on the way. Come down!”

The phone goes silent, and I shake my head.

After I confirm Jamie isn’t on his way to get me and doesn’t mind Ash dropping me off, I grab my stuff and head downstairs.

On the passenger seat of Ash’s car, I find an envelope full of parking tickets. She’s so cavalier about the rules.

“Toss those in the glove box,” she says. “Gotta pay them when I get back.”

Slipping them away, I take my seat.

Ash pulls out of the parking spot and waits as the gated arm lifts.

“How do you get into this lot?”

“I bought an upperclassman’s key card from him.”

Staring at her, I cock an eyebrow. So sneaky. Maybe she is part rain-forest tree frog. “You got a key card, yet you’re still getting parking tickets?”

“Well, this is an unregistered car. But at least the parking fascists won’t straight-up tow it, which they do in the un-gated lots if they run a plate and find it belongs to a freshman. You and I really need to get an apartment off campus. Maybe a townhouse?”

Moving off campus this year isn’t an option for me, as I’ve told her, but still she persists. And next year, I’ll hopefully get a room in the Briar Club house. A wave of satisfaction courses through me. I’m in. That thought has not gotten old.

As we drive, my good mood makes me admire the campus all the more. GU’s old brick buildings are covered in ivy, the green threads crawling up the weathered walls and creeping along the windowsills. Afternoon sunshine has melted the morning’s frost, so the bare tree branches are like spindly fingers. I love Granthorpe’s creepiness as much as its storied history.

As we pull up in front of the large brick Beta fraternity house, I lean forward to look up at the Greek letters above the door.

A car on the street is pulling away as we arrive, so Ash parallel parks, expertly.

When I start to open my door, Ash’s hand shoots out to grab my arm to stop me. “No, Seesaw. We’re staying in the car.” Her fingers slide over her phone as she sends a text, presumably to Crosby.

The phone rings and Ash answers, putting the call on speaker so she can reach into the back. “Hey, Cros, I’m here. Come out and get your coat.”

“I need ya to bring it in. We’re in the middle?—”

“Hells no. I’ve got a friend I need to drop off who’s already late. If you’re not down here in one minute, your coat is coming home to Boston with me. And good luck ever getting it back after that because it’s a nice coat, and I’ve got a cousin and buddies who are gonna be in my backseat this week.”

“Ashling.” His surly tone doesn’t seem to make an impression, because her smile doesn’t fade. “You have five minutes to come the fuck in. I’ve got a present for you.”

“I love presents. Bring it down.” Then she swipes, ending the call. A second later, her phone rings again. She sends Crosby to voicemail and gives the phone a voice command to set a timer for four minutes.

Cocking my head, I eye her. “You’re diabolical. It’s a really concerning quality.”

She smirks and winks at me.

In the final minute on the timer, she starts the car. Ten seconds later, the front door of the fraternity house bangs open, and the stocky power lifter jogs outside. He’s wearing jeans and a tight sweater and carries a small box.

Behind him, I spot my pseudo brother as Brad opens the storm door for a young woman to emerge. She’s buttoned up in a green, plaid wool coat and shiny black boots. After a second, I realize it’s Clare Duffy.

My body stiffens as I watch her. Why was she with Brad? Are they joining forces against me… maybe to get my acceptance to the Briar Club rescinded? No, if Clare wanted to sabotage me, she’d have done it before.

Stop being paranoid.

Crosby approaches the driver’s door and holds out the box. “Here you go, beautiful.”

“Thanks,” Ash says, taking the box and dropping it in her lap. “Here’s your coat. Happy Thanksgiving.”

With one hand he takes the coat, but with the other, he grabs the steering wheel. “Come on. You have to open it now.”

She slaps his hand. “I told you I don’t have time.” As if to punctuate the statement, her alarm goes off. “But I will make a video of me opening it and if I love the present, I’ll send the video as a thank you. Fair?”

“Yeah.” He releases the steering wheel, and his fingers detour to stroke her face as he withdraws his hand. “Text me when you get to Boston, so I know you got there safe.”

“Nope. Not playing the girlfriend game. Now back up before my Camaro dents your foot bones.”

A tap on my window causes my head to jerk toward it. Clare Duffy stands right next to the door.

Jesus.

I roll the window down halfway.

“Heard you got in. Congratulations.” As she holds up her hand, I see what she wants me to see. There on her bony wrist is my mom’s vintage Briar Club bangle.

What a fucking bitch.