Chapter 23 #2
I don’t know what happened the other night but can you please stop ignoring me? Are you still at Ely for the weekend?
He sent the text an hour ago, around eleven, which isn’t too late, but pretty close to being a hookup fishing line. If we’d already hooked up, I probably wouldn’t mind.
Hell, even now, I consider telling him to come to my place.
I need to get laid. Maybe it’ll stop me from thinking about a certain blue-eyed monster of a boy.
But before I reply, I open up Storm’s text.
Storm
I made plans for us tomorrow night. I can come over now, or in the morning.
Frowning, I see the link he sent in the second text. It doesn’t look like it’s going to blow up my phone or anything so I open it.
It goes to a landing site for a nineties concert. In Raleigh. A four hour drive from here. Nineties cover bands and nineties actual bands, still performing.
The butterflies in my belly tap dance all along my insides and I push my tongue into the inside of my cheek to stop from smiling my face off.
But would that mean we spend another night together?
And why is he planning dates for us?
I’d rather hook up than pretend we might get married or something.
Dax or Storm tonight… Dax, or Storm.
Dax is safer.
Storm makes me feel out of control.
I text Storm back first.
Morning.
Then I open my texts to Dax and tell him to come over now. The butterflies sink a little, though, and that’s how I know I made the right choice. No matter what happens with me and Dax, he won’t be able to hurt me. I’m not invested enough.
I drop my feet to the floor and swipe all my stuff up. The thunder booms again outside the library and I hear rain lash against the windows.
There might be an umbrella left behind in the stand by the exit though, and I could take it tonight and return it in the morning. I clutch my phone in my hand and swing my backpack over my shoulder as I get to my feet.
I weave my way out of the stacks of biographies, then start to walk past all the towering shelves separating me from the circulation desk.
Beyond it are a few couches, a closed coffee shop, then the heavy wooden doors that lead out to the awning and the steps.
Even from here, I can see lightning flash purple in the windows of the door and I shiver as the power flickers overhead.
There’s an elevator to my left and for some reason, I glance at it, my heart racing.
The digital red number indicates it’s on the third floor.
It feels spooky, imagining it waiting for someone who isn’t there.
But what if they are?
A chill ices its way down my spine and I hunch my shoulders in, shivering a little. Get it together, Sloane. There must be security cameras here; it’s a university library after all. And what would anyone want with me in here after dark? No one is here and no one cares that I am.
I pass the empty circulation desk, note a pile of Stephen King paperbacks with an orange sticky note on them.
For Lydia is scrawled in a messy font by the computer.
There’s like five books in that stack and I wonder why the hell Lydia wants them all at one time.
Not my business though.
And I don’t need to think of things like Pet Sematary at a time like this.
Just as I pass the couches though, my phone buzzes in my hand and I nearly shriek out loud because it startled me.
I don’t remember putting it on vibrate and as I turn my gaze from another vibrant purple strike outside that illuminates the courtyard in eerie shadows of trees and buildings, I see Remi is calling me.
I frown and make a turn toward a green leather couch set around a glass table.
I sit down with my bag still on and answer the call, then hold the phone to my ear.
My best friend hates talking on the phone, and it’s nearly midnight.
I’m surprised she’s doing anything other than sneaking in sleep or time with Cortland.
What if something happened at his dad’s place?
“Remi?”
There’s silence for a minute, then another loud rumble from outside.
I twist to look over my shoulder and I swear I see a shadow of a figure right at the glass panes in the door.
A lump forms in my throat.
Remi doesn’t say anything.
I don’t look away from the door.
My mouth opens but I can’t seem to find the words. I don’t even know what to say.
The darkness has fallen again, so I don’t know if anyone is there or not.
I stand to my feet and take a step back, away from the door.
“Remi!” I shout her name into the phone, but the only response I get is two tonal beeps. When I pull my phone from my ear and look at it, the line has gone dead.
What the fuck?
Lightning flashes once more, neon blue this time.
There isn’t anyone at the door.
I take a breath in through my nose.
I’m just paranoid.
With Storm’s general weirdness and his bullshit in his car, it’s messing with my head.
I’m just paranoid.
No one is there, and I’m fine.
But the breath before I start to head toward the door—no umbrella in the golden holder—I hear a chime at my back.
I whip around fast, my fingers curled tight over my phone.
The elevator.
The number has changed.
First floor.
The metallic doors start to spring open.
My heart thuds hard in my chest, and I don’t wait to see who steps out.
I sprint toward the exit and don’t let myself stall to feel any fear about who may or may not be outside. I burst into the rain and jog down the steps without looking back.
Then I run all the way to my place without slowing once.