Page 10

I’m staring at my phone with no one to talk to, no one to confide in, so I open the Notes app and start typing away before I lose my fucking mind.

What the fuck is happening?

These past few weeks have practically been hell on earth. Cassidy is now super suspicious of me. She keeps asking me about what happened at the party, but I can’t tell her.

I can’t bring her into this.

Meanwhile, every time I go to class, I see the cops hanging around, questioning students. Every time I see them, I feel so nauseous and nervous…I feel like I’m losing my mind.

But it seems they haven’t caught on to me yet. Or they’re just taking their sweet time, gathering evidence against me before arresting me.

Oh, God. Should I just run away to Mexico? I’ve got some money saved up, I guess it would be okay.

Fuck, I can’t. My mom would kill me way before the guilt does.

I can’t live like this. I’m going fucking crazy. Every time the doorbell goes, I feel like the cops are finally here for me.

Is this how criminals feel?

Has the masked guy gone to the cops yet? I feel like if he had, they would have arrested me by now… but that comment…

Has he? Honestly, the suspense and paranoia are killing me. Who the fuck is he anyway? I asked Cassidy about his tattoo, but she didn’t know him.

How am I supposed to find him before he rats me out to the police?

Ugh! My mom is calling again. I wonder what she wants. She thinks I can’t keep ignoring her calls forever. She has no idea.

Fuck! I have class tomorrow morning, and I haven’t graded the papers Prof. Jennings gave me.

I need to focus.

The fifth floor of the library at midday is a sanctuary of silence. Sunlight streams through the large windows, casting soft, golden patches on the carpeted floor. Aside from a few students huddled together by a group of couches, half asleep with textbooks spread around them, the place is deserted.

The quiet is thick, only broken by the low hum of the air conditioner and the occasional rustle of paper. I sit at a table by the window, my laptop open but untouched. The blank document on the screen a reflection of my thoughts.

I came here for the stillness, hoping it would help me think, but all it did was give my mind more room to wander.

I am supposed to be writing a paper on social learning theory for my social psychology class, but I can’t focus.

My notes are scattered in front of me, but none of the words are sticking.

Every time I try to concentrate on the theory, my mind drifts back to that night––Jack, the masked guy, the questions I don’t have answers to.

I tap my pen against my notebook, trying to shove these thoughts aside, but it’s useless.

I’m supposed to be thinking about how people learn from their environment, how we mirror the behavior we see in others.

Yet all I can think about is how I feel like I’m being watched, like someone’s just waiting for me to slip up.

This is going to drive me fucking crazy.

I rub my eyes, frustrated. The stillness I came here for is making everything worse.

My phone buzzes on the table, breaking the quiet. I glance down and see Cassidy’s name flash across the screen. She’s been checking on me more often these past few weeks ever since what happened.

I feel grateful for her concern and guilty for keeping her in the dark, but I don’t know how to tell her. I don’t even fully understand it myself.

Sighing, I swipe my thumb across the screen and open her message.

Casper the friendly ho: Hey, just came back from the dance studio and you weren’t there.

Me: Yea, went to the library to work on the paper for Jennings’ class.

Casper the friendly ho: Kay! OMW. Meet you there.

Me: On the fifth floor by the window

Casper the friendly ho: Kay

I set my phone down and glance out the window at the bright afternoon sun. The library should feel like a safe place, a quiet bubble where I can escape everything that’s been haunting me. But lately, even the silence feels heavy, like it’s pressing in on me from all sides.

Cassidy has been my anchor through this, her goofy texts and relentless energy, a constant in the storm.

I don’t know how to tell her what’s been going on.

Hell, I don’t even know how to explain it to myself.

The flashes of memory from that night, the eerie feeling of being watched, the way everything has felt… off.

I hear the soft patter of footsteps coming from behind me, pulling me out of my thoughts.

I glance over my shoulder and spot Cassidy making her way towards me, her usual bright smile lighting up her face despite the dark circles under her eyes.

“There’s my favorite library nerd,” she teases, sliding into the seat across from me.

“Hey, Cass.” I try to smile, but it feels forced. “How was dance class?”

She let out a huge sigh. “Brutal,” she groans dramatically, flopping back in her chair. “Madame Serena is on some next-level power trip. I swear she’s trying to kill us before the recital. My legs are about to fall off.”

I can picture it—Cassidy in her leotard, sweat dripping down her face as she endures another one of Madame Serena’s grueling sessions.

She’s been pushing herself so hard these past few weeks, rehearsing for hours, perfecting every move until her muscles scream.

But that’s how she’s always been. Determined. Fierce.

Even back in high school as the head cheerleader, she was so out of reach—like she existed on another level. The kind of person who throws herself completely into something until she gets it right. Dancing was her life, her escape, the thing that kept her grounded.

Back then, it was cheerleading, and she was brilliant at it. She was always at the center of every routine, every game, always the one everyone watched. But it wasn’t just about the performance. It was her drive, the way she pushed herself harder than anyone else. And now, it’s the same with dance.

“I don’t know how you do it,” I say, shaking my head, trying to ignore the pang of envy. “I’d be dead after five minutes of that.”

Cassidy laughs, lifting her leg onto the table with ease, rolling her ankles to loosen them up.

“You get used to it. Besides, it’s worth it when I finally nail that pirouette sequence.

There’s nothing like that feeling.” Her eyes light up when she talks about dancing, the exhaustion momentarily forgotten.

For a second, I almost wish I could lose myself in something the way she does with dance.

“Anyway,” she says before pausing, her playful expression fading as she leans in, her eyes serious. “But don’t change the subject. What’s up with you? You’ve been acting weird for a while.”

I tense, knowing this conversation was inevitable, but not ready for it. I fidget with my pen, spinning it between my fingers, trying to come up with an excuse, something to deflect but the concern in Cassidy’s eyes makes it impossible.

“I’ve just been…tired, I guess.”

Cassidy doesn’t let me off that easily. “Rhea, it’s more than that. You’ve been jumpy, distracted.” She pauses and reaches for my hand, squeezing it. “You know you can talk to me, right?”

My throat tightens, guilt swirling in my chest. I should tell her everything, but how could I possibly explain the truth? That ever since that night, something has been terribly wrong. That I feel like someone’s watching me, like I’m being hunted.

“Is it your mom? Is she acting crazy again? I swear…”

“It’s not.” I can’t help but let out a small giggle. Cassidy always jumps to the conclusion that my mom is the source of my problems, given how unpredictable she is.

Cassidy raises an eyebrow, leaning back in her chair while wiggling her socked toes manically. The sight is quite comical, and I try to resist the urge to laugh.

“Okay, so if it’s not her, then what’s going on? You’ve been…I don’t know, distant. Weird. Shaken up. More than usual.”

“I know,” I murmur, my voice barely above a whisper. “I’m sorry. I’ll get over this funk.”

Her eyes narrow. “Wait, is this because of the guy they found at that party?”

I freeze, unable to process what she’s just put together. My heart claws up my throat as I stare at her.

“Oh, my god. It is? Rhea, now it all makes sense. We don’t know who killed the guy…

” She rolls her eyes, “Well, we kind of do. I’ve heard the rumors that the frat house isn’t actually a fraternity house, and it’s just…

” She waves it off without finishing her sentence, but now I’m intrigued.

I want to know more. “Wait, do you know anything about what happened to Jack?”

I panic internally, feeling my skin crawl. To break the spell, I rub my arms to stop the shiver. “No, no. I don’t know, and I think you’re right. I’m just shook over there being a murder.”

“A murder,” she echoes. “You know, Jack was deep in some shit from what I hear. It sounds like the guys were out for him.”

“What guys?” I ask.

She shakes his head. “Look, if that’s been your problem this whole time, I’m sorry I didn’t put it together. Let’s go to the hockey game tonight. No excuses. You need to get out of your head for a while.”

I blink at her, surprised. “A hockey game?”

“Yeah, they’ll have a little tribute for Jack, and maybe…it’ll make you feel better.”

I hesitate, the idea of being around so many people makes my skin crawl, but Cassidy’s determined look tells me she’s not going to let me wriggle out of this. Maybe she’s right. Maybe it will make me feel better. I can get a little closure this way.

“Okay,” I say. “Maybe you’re right.”

“Great! We’ll leave by six. Wear something warm; it’s freezing in those arenas.” Pausing, she lowers her leg and stands, dramatically holding out her hand to me. “Now, let’s stop worrying about some fraternity gang related nonsense and go get some lattes.”