Page 157 of Terror Tuesday

The food is good. My parents hold decent conversations with my appointed. Dad keeps silent for the most part. Mom does her mimicking thing, where she pretends to like everything Olivia does. She’s not doing it to be mean; it’s just how she was trained.

Olivia doesn’t catch on, so it seems to go over well. They become fast friends by the end of the second slice of pizza.

Once we tell them about the night before, glossing over certain details parents shouldn’t have to know, we delve into formulating more plans.

“I need to know who the bartender is,” I tell Dad.

He nods toward one of the back halls. “Let’s go into the office now that we’re finished. Ladies? With us?”

“Yes,” Olivia says, tossing her napkin onto the empty plate.

In my father’s stately study, Mom perches on an ancient French cream credenza and crisscrosses her legs. Olivia gazes up at the ornate painted ceiling, mouth agog. I flop onto the stuffy Louis XVI Robin’s egg-blue sofa, stomach filled with food.

Dad pulls up his computer screen on one of the large monitors hanging on the wall. “This is it. This is what we have on his hiring record.”

He shows us a spreadsheet with the names, phone numbers, addresses, parents’ names, email addresses, birthdays, heights and weights of all staff employed by the president. Color-coordinated in different bands across the screen based on role. Cooks. Waitstaff. Cleaners. Bartenders…

There’s only one bar blank. It’s highlighted in gray. Almost as if someone wanted it to be invisible.In fact, the only thing that the row contains is three letters under “Name”:

GNU

“Graduate of Northview University?” Olivia asks.

“Global Network Unicode?” I guess…

“Galactic Neutering Unit.” Mom says it with such confidence, and we all turn to look at her. Her freckles glow when she blushes crimson. “Perhaps an alien species sent to destroy the Seven… Ha! Just…just joking.”

She’s not. But I glance over at Olivia, who smiles appreciatively in amusement. She’ll have to get used to us. At least all my brothers and sisters aren’t here to make it even more chaotic now that they all live on campus.

“Do we think that’s him?” I ask.

Dad nods. “It has to be. I’ve gotten the photographs of everyone else. Here…” He pulls up a dossier of the employees, and none is the guy who served Olivia her drinks.

Shifting in his seat, he grabs his phone and holds up a finger to make us wait. “They’re making another announcement. This is…fast.”

I snag the remote and flip it to the TV so we can hear what the university has to say. The same dean is on, but this time, he holds up an arm and waves in a woman with a brunette blunt bob haircut, dressed in a purple skirt suit. Behind her are a tall man with glasses and two teenage girls, smiling broadly for the camera.

Dad’s jaw tightens.

“We now welcome Dr. Leigh Damon as the interim president of Northview University. Her family founded this city, and who better to lead us than one of their own? President Damon?”

My eyes snap to Dad’s. He’s uncomfortable. I don’t know much about the Damons, other than they’re more reclusive at meetings than my father is.

“I need to look into her,” Dad says, low under his breath.

The woman confidently strides to the podium, and part of me relaxes. Perhaps we’ve been overreacting, and now those who made the university will take it back from the societies that have been running it for years.

“Thank you to the board for their confidence in my abilities and their votes. Until we appoint a permanent president, I’m happy to serve Northview as a university and community.”

She continues with a long speech incorporating boring history for a while, and then glances at her notes on the podium before lifting her head to speak directly into the camera.

“There are those who have defied the laws of this important institution. The guidelines are appointed for the betterment of all of us.Rulesare made for everyone’s safety… But if you’re not doing anythingwrong, you have nothing to be concerned about. Fear is only for the guilty, and at Northview University, we will makesureevery single student issafe and unafraid.”

My heart pounds harder, and I lose a breath. Olivia visibly shakes until I hold her in my arms. Mom reaches over and takes her hand, offering a look of solidarity.

As if in a last warning, the new president’s piercing brown eyes capture the camera as she states, “Even if this requires tightening the regulations so that everyone complies.”

She finishes with a bright smile, and the press claps around her as if it’s the best thing they’ve heard.