Page 23

Kota

I was walking through campus to my bio lab, clutching my jacket tighter around me when my phone vibrated deep in my pocket. I refused to take my gloves off to check, so I ignored it for the time being.

Stress was currently my biggest enemy. Thanksgiving break was coming up, which meant finals would be following a few weeks later, and I’d never felt so unprepared.

I always thought junior year of college would be the heaviest academically, but first semester of senior year was kicking my ass just as hard.

Biology was a tricky thing to be studying, and I was lucky that I hadn’t failed any of my classes throughout college, considering how many of my peers did each semester.

I’d rather not start now though.

I’d already begun studying for finals, which was eating my time and energy like a beast. I hardly even had time to think about pranking Crew again. I was becoming kind of exhausted from it, not going to lie. As much as I loved bothering him, it was time consuming to plan my devious schemes. I was sort of hoping he’d give up soon.

I could feel the cold stinging my ears, my eyes watering as I finally stepped into the building for my lab. I caught my breath from the hike, dreading how much worse it’d be when we got the first snowfall of the year, which was already overdue for Minnesota.

Our professor wasn’t there yet since I arrived early. Figuring it would be the only time I’d be able to check my phone for the next two hours, I ripped my gloves off and shoved my hands into my coat, digging for my phone.

Lane: You got a package

Me: ???

I didn’t order anything

Lane: Well, your name is on it

Me: Weird

Something didn’t seem right here. And I’d bet money it had to do with Crew.

***

I was in a shit mood. Apparently, my golden-retriever-looking partner and I got a C on our last lab report, and considering I was already sitting at a mid-B, I was worried it would make my grade drop further.

Not to mention our bitch of a professor assigned us another fucking essay that’s due next week.

Four pages on an individual type of bacteria. How the fuck was I supposed to come up with that much information about a single-cell organism?

I hoped for Crew’s sake that this mystery package had nothing to do with him. Because if he tried pulling some shit right now, all hell was bound to break loose.

I slammed the apartment door behind me. “Fucking fuck!”

“Well, hello to you too,” Lane said. His homework was scattered around the living room coffee table while he typed away at his computer, Rob K sleeping in a ball beside him on the couch.

“Where’s this stupid package?”

He pointed to the kitchen counter.

The package wasn’t big, only a foot or so wide. “Where’d this come from?”

Lane spoke slowly, his brows pulling in like I was an idiot that needed things spelled out. “Um, the mail room?”

“Who grabbed it?”

“I grabbed everyone’s mail when I was coming up.”

“So, Crew hasn’t touched this?” I gestured to it, still too cautious to pick it up.

“No,” Lane insisted, slightly irritated.

“Just making sure. Who knows, it might explode or something when I open it.”

Lane didn’t respond, probably too annoyed to continue engaging, but he was too nice to say so.

I could tell him and Bridget were getting closer and closer to the edge, completely over Crew’s and my bullshit. Bridget even told me herself a couple days ago that her and Lane were talking about sitting us down to have an intervention. They both thought things had been going on for too long and were going too far.

When I ripped the box open, my face distorted.

“What the fuck?! ”

There was a small promotional poster that read The All Things Butt Box in big, purple letters. Beneath it, there was a heart shaped butt-plug, fire red anal beads that were at least six inches long, and a small box that said Three-Piece Mini Anal Kit on the front.

“What is it?” Lane asked from across the room.

This might have been worse than something that would explode in my face.

On a different day, I might’ve laughed. But given how my day had been going so far, I was not in the mood to be messed with.

And obviously, I didn’t order this. Which left one person who would’ve.

I was taking deep, ragged breaths, my face inevitably flushing with anger. “Is Crew home?” I asked through clenched teeth.

“He’s in his room, I think.”

I was about to stomp over and bang on his door, but instead, I decided to pretend like this never happened. I stuffed everything back into the box and dropped the entire thing in the trash.

If Crew couldn’t see my reaction, he couldn’t possibly be satisfied. If he didn’t know I even saw this stupid box, maybe he’d think his plan failed.

All I knew was one thing and one thing only— the next prank I pulled on him was sure to be the last.