Chapter 4
Four
HAVEN
“Haven, don’t look, but that guy is totally checking you out.”
I twist in the direction Kendra is staring and she swats at me.
“I told you not to look,” she hisses.
“Where?” I ask, fear spiking in my chest when I can’t find the person she’s talking about.
By some miracle, my parents didn’t get wind of the fire at the frat house over the weekend.
Well, actually, that’s not exactly true.
They heard about the fire; it was all over the local news.
But the news didn’t report on the strangeness of the flames, and my parents never suspected I was there.
If they had, we would have been packed up and moved already.
I feel guilty about the deceit, but if they’d found out they would have forced me to drop out of school.
I’d probably never earn a degree or see Tate or Kendra again.
But over the last couple of days my parents’ paranoia has seeped into me, leaving me convinced that danger lurks around every corner, and that anyone who glances my way is plotting something sinister.
I’ve tried to tell myself it’s all in my head, but I can’t shake the feeling that something bad is about to happen.
“I don’t see anyone staring at me,” I say, my gaze bleary from sleep deprivation as I scan the co-eds spread across the open space.
It’s unseasonably warm for this time of year, so we decided to take advantage of what will probably be the last nice day of the season and do homework outside.
We’re not the only ones who had the idea.
There are students everywhere, including a group of guys playing a pick-up game of football between where Kendra and I are sitting and the edge of the open space that butts up to a wooded area.
I crane my neck to see around a clump of them who have formed a huddle, blocking my view.
“You have zero chill. You know that, right?” Kendra laughs lightly, not having the faintest idea that this could be life or death.
Dramatic much? I think, but then my dad’s voice filters through my mind: The ones after us are brutal. They’ll do anything for their cause. Even murder. Never forget that. It may save your life someday.
I remember the look on my dad’s face when he said that to me: part fierce determination, part grief that he’s never able to hide. And I understand why. What happened to them, to all of us, changed them irrevocably. Their greatest goal in life is to make sure they don’t lose me too.
The guys break from their huddle and I have a clear view, but there’s no one.
“Oh,” Kendra says, her face falling. “He was right there. I don’t see him now.”
“What did he look like?”
She shrugs. “I don’t really know. Blond, I think, but he had a baseball hat on so maybe I’m wrong. Pretty tall. Definitely built. Like his t-shirt was molded to his arms and chest.”
“That’s all?” I ask, disappointed.
“He was kinda far away, so I didn’t get a good look at him,” she says. “But he was hot.”
“How do you know he was hot if you couldn’t get a look at him?” I ask, knowing that isn’t nearly the most important thing right now, but it’s what my mind snagged on.
“Oh, you can still tell,” she says with a grin. “He was giving off major hot guy energy.” She wiggles her eyebrows at me.
“That’s not a thing,” I deadpan, and she dissolves into laughter.
“Oh girl, never change,” she says once she catches her breath.
I shake my head, trying my best to also shake off my unease.
It was just a random student, probably watching the pick-up football game. Nothing to freak out about.
No matter how logical my inner voice is, I can’t make myself believe it.
I gather my books, no longer able to concentrate on my chemistry homework anymore.
“You’re leaving?” Kendra asks with a pout.
“Yeah, sorry. I’m just distracted. I’m going to head over to the library to finish studying.”
“Want me to walk you there?” she offers, already getting to her feet, but I wave her off.
“No, it’s okay. Tate will be here soon. Tell her I said ‘Hi.’”
She nods and settles back on the checkered blanket she brought with her.
“See you in the union for lunch tomorrow?” she asks, and I nod.
I set off for the library a few blocks away. My plan is to find the most remote corner, push all thoughts of the party and fire out of my mind, and hunker down with my mountain of homework.
I don’t let myself scan the faces of the students I pass along the way, determined not to feed into the paranoia that has a grip on me anymore.
What happened at the party isn’t that big a deal. No one knows what you did. You’re safe.
But even though I repeat the words over and over, I know deep inside that they’re not true.
In the back of my mind I’m vaguely aware of a voice speaking, but I’m too locked in on my calculus homework to fully register it. It’s not until a hand lands on my shoulder that I realize someone’s been standing right behind me.
With a half-scream, I almost fall out of my chair as I scramble to my feet. The guy trying to get my attention stumbles back a couple steps, a hand over his chest like he almost had a heart attack.
Yeah, you and me both, buddy.
We blink back at each other, both recovering from our shock, before he says, “The library is closed. We’re clearing everyone still here out for the night.”
I stare at his brown eyes, made larger by the thick glasses perched on his nose, as his words sink in.
Closed? The library can’t be closed. It’s only—
I gasp when I catch a glimpse of the clock on the wall behind him. Ten o’clock. My parents prefer me to be home before sunset, and that was hours ago. I was so focused on my work, I didn’t notice the time rolling by.
Grabbing my phone, my gut sinks. Just as I expected, my parents are freaking out. I have even more missed calls and texts than the night of the frat party. I pull up my mom’s contact to quickly call her.
“I’m sorry, but you need to collect—”
“Give me a minute,” I snap at the guy, who jolts at my sharp tone. I immediately feel bad and try to soften my words when I say, “I’ll pack up. I just need to let my parents know I’m okay.”
He gives me a look that makes me feel like he’s judging me for having to check in with my parents and my guilt fades.
Jerk.
Turning my back on him, I hit “call” on my phone.
“You’ll have to leave out the back entrance because we closed the front one,” he says, and then I hear him leave.
The phone doesn’t even make it through the first full ring before my mom picks up. “Are you okay?” The worry and panic in her voice is clear as day, making me feel like the worst daughter alive.
“I’m fine. I’m just at the library doing homework,” I say quickly, trying to reassure her. “I had my phone on vibrate and lost track of time.”
Her sigh is audible on the other end of the line. “Haven, you know it’s safer for you to be back before dark.”
Irritation shoots through me. Of course I know that. They won’t let me forget it.
“Yeah, Mom, I know,” I say, trying to keep the annoyance out of my voice and heart. She loves me. She’s just worried about me because she doesn’t want me to end up like my sister. I tuck my phone between my ear and shoulder and start packing my bag. “I’m leaving now. I’ll be home in fifteen.”
“Do you want your father to come get you?”
“No. By the time it would take him to get here, I’d already be almost home.”
“Getting a ride would be safer,” she says, pushing the point.
“They’re kicking me out because the library closed, so if Dad comes to get me I’d have to wait outside on the street anyway.”
“Oh, okay. But if you’re not here in twenty, your father is going to come look for you.”
I roll my eyes. “Sure.”
I’m about to say bye and hang up when she says, “Is everything okay? This isn’t like you. Especially not two times in under a week.”
She’s right. I’m usually really good about keeping them in the loop, letting them know where I am at all times. I don’t think I’ve ignored my phone on purpose, but I’m just getting so tired of living this way. Maybe I’m subconsciously pushing back.
I sigh. “I’m sorry, Mom. I’m okay. The whole way home is lit. I’ll be fine.”
She’s quiet for a few seconds before saying, “Okay, Haven. I just hope you know how much your dad and I love you. I know we can be overbearing at times, but we just want to keep you safe. If we lost you too—”
Her words cut off sharply as she’s suddenly overwhelmed by emotion. Just like she is any time she thinks about my sister . . . and how they lost her.
My chest squeezes and I’m swamped with guilt. Are my parents really asking that much of me?
No.
“I know, Mom. And I love you too. I’ll be home soon. Promise.”
After saying goodbye and hanging up, I shove the last few things back in my bag.
Slinging it over my shoulder, I wind my way through the library, looking for the rear exit.
Almost ten minutes later, I find the one door not locked.
Apparently, there are four back exits, and I checked three locked ones before I finally discovered the right one.
Annoyed at how much time that wasted, I push through the door and into the chilly night air. I go to text my mom that I’m just leaving now so she doesn’t worry when I’m not home in ten minutes, only to find that my battery has run out.
Tilting my head skyward, I groan. What more can go wrong?
As soon as I think it, a shiver of unease runs through me. I wish I hadn’t thought that, because now I feel jinxed.
I glance around, not seeing another person anywhere. I can’t decide if that’s comforting or the opposite.
Taking a quick second, I consider my options.
If I head the regular way, the one lit with streetlights, I’m not going to get home before my parents freak out.
Especially when they call and it goes directly to voicemail because my phone’s dead.
There’s a shortcut that will cut the time in half, but it’s through a wooded area.