Chapter Nine Fitz
Fitz had done a lot of questionable things for an A grade.
He’d worn a tour T-shirt of a professor’s favorite band to class, pretending to also be a huge fan. He’d organized fundraisers, joined jog-a-thons, picketed, and canvassed for signatures to benefit their favorite causes. He’d rounded up groups of students to fill the auditorium for guest speakers and helped students who were struggling with the material. He’d flirted with professors—he’d done far more than flirt with their TAs. He’d made sure the dean loved him, leveraged his father’s reputation at every possible opportunity, and never regretted it, not once, because he was so close to the finish line he could taste it.
He knew in his heart he wouldn’t have regretted this, either, if Ren hadn’t shown up.
It was the tiny creak of the door that gave her away. Just the smallest sound of metal on metal, a hinge shifting a fraction of an inch. It was enough to pull his attention away from the screen and to the inch-wide expanse of darkness leading into the lab. There, in the shadow, was a face.
And there, in the flesh, was Ren Gylden, with her big green eyes and spools of golden hair and round, shocked mouth, shoving the door wide open. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m—” Panic rose like a violent tide as consequences scrolled out in his mind: academic dishonesty, the loss of Judge Iman’s letter, maybe even no shot at graduating, ever. He’d been so sure of this plan, he’d never bothered to make another.
And then he paused, narrowing his eyes. “What are you doing here?”
“I asked you first.” She pointed to the computer, stammering, “That’s—that’s Audran’s grade book.”
“He asked me to come in and check something for him.”
“You?”
His heart hammered so hard he wondered if she could hear it. “Yeah.”
“Why?”
“Because he trusts me.”
She stared at him, frowning. “Why didn’t he ask one of the new TAs?”
“How am I supposed to know? He just asked me.”
She chewed on this for a beat. “So why didn’t you turn on the lights?”
“I’m lazy.”
“But not so lazy that you won’t come into the lab at midnight on a Sunday?”
“Just a quick in and out,” he said with a sideways grin, “and then I’m done.”
Before he realized what Ren was doing, she’d moved in a blur, stepping forward and reaching above him for something on the shelf. He was about to tell her to let him wrap up and head home when a bursting flash filled the room, temporarily blinding him.
“If you’re here on his instruction, I’m sure you won’t mind if I verify it with Dr. Audran.”
He grasped for the table. When his vision started to clear, he could just make out the way she gently waved something in the air near her head. Fitz’s stomach bottomed out. She’d taken a Polaroid photo of him with Audran’s grade book open on the screen in the background.
“Ren,” he said, low and steadying, moving just a little closer. He put on his trademark sultry half smile. “I swear it isn’t what you think.”
But, as ever, Ren was immune to his flirtation. “It isn’t you panicking about your test score and breaking in here to change it in Audran’s computer?”
He swallowed. “I can explain.”
“I can’t wait to hear it.”
Fitz took a closer look at her. Gone was the affable golden retriever energy. This Ren was shaken, rattled. Whether it was the anger over finding him here or something else, she wasn’t going to budge. Dread filled him with a cold blackness, and he slumped back into the chair. Was this how it would all fall apart? Eight years of hard work and the occasional con, and it was gone in the flash of a Polaroid? Fitz couldn’t believe he was going to be buried by long-dead technology. He had so much riding on this, more than Ren could even fathom.
“My father will cut off my inheritance if he finds out I cheated,” he lied, doing his best to sound terrified. Honestly, it wasn’t much of a stretch, and if there was one thing Corona students knew about Fitz, it was that his father was loaded. “After graduation, I have plans to create a charitable organization for clean energy research, but all of that will be lost if this gets out.”
She took a deep breath before blowing it out in a burst. Fitz had always been able to read people. He’d gone a little overboard with this story, but she was buying it, he could tell.
Ren shook her head. “You’re lying.”
Dammit. “Why would you say that?”
“Your voice got all garbled, you gave way too much information, and there’s not a charitable bone in your body.” She pointed. “And you’re jiggling your leg. An obvious tell.”
He placed a steadying hand on his thigh. “Well, it’s the truth.”
Ren crossed her arms over her chest and stared down at him. She looked worked up, those giant green eyes a little wild. Something was happening in that big brain of hers, and Fitz could only wait to see what she was going to do with the Polaroid in her hand. “You know what, Just Fitz,” she said finally, jaw tightening in determination, “I don’t actually care what your reason is. I just want to know what this photo is worth to you.”
“What it’s wor—?” He broke off as awareness landed. “You’re blackmailing me?”
“Call it whatever you want. I overheard you last week. You’re going to Nashville for spring break, aren’t you?”
“Nashville?” He pretended to think. “You must have me confused with someone else.”
She huffed out a laugh. “If you want me to keep this photo a secret, you’re going to take me with you.”
Stunned, he gaped at her. He was completely unaccustomed to being on this side of a negotiation, and honestly, it sucked. “You can’t be serious.”
“Serious as a sleep attack.”
Whatever he was going to say next evaporated from his thoughts. “A sleep attack?”
“When one gets an uncontrollable urge to sleep. A common symptom of narcolepsy.”
“Why not just say ‘serious as a heart attack’?”
“Because heart attacks kill people! I don’t want to make light of that!”
“But if someone has a sleep attack while driving,” he argued, “couldn’t that also be leth—”
“Fitz! Listen to what I’m telling you! If you want to keep this a secret, you’re taking me with you. Yes or no?”
A flush of vulnerability passed over her face, and he felt a subtle shift in power. It wasn’t quite enough to get the ball back in his court; he needed to leverage everything he could. “I think you need to tell me what had you breaking into the lab at midnight on a Sunday.”
“No way,” she said, resolutely shaking her head.
“Then go ahead and show Audran the photo. I’ll just tell him I was changing things back after busting you fixing your score in here.”
She gasped, long and horrified. “You wouldn’t dare.”
This made him laugh. “Of course I would. If you’re going to take me down, I’m taking you down with me.”
“Audran wouldn’t believe it. And…” She looked around, desperately searching for something, before setting her steely gaze back on him. “Listen, mister. Everyone else here might be fooled by your charm and looks and voice, but not me.”
He leaned in, giving her his best, teasing smile. This is what he was good at. He could flirt his way out of anything. “My charm and looks and voice, huh?”
She flushed. Bingo. “What I’m saying,” she started, for once visibly flustered, “is that I’m guessing this isn’t the first time you’ve cheated, and the last thing you want is the dean looking closer into your past here.”
She was grasping at straws, but it was too close to the truth for his comfort. Fitz closed his eyes, trying to weigh the situation objectively. A handful of days with Ren jabbering his ear off in the car versus potentially having academic dishonesty on his permanent record, losing his recommendation letter, and—most importantly—ruining any chance at having his criminal record expunged. Basically, if she exposed him, he could lose everything.
There was no question. He’d come too far.
Fitz bent, cupping his forehead in his palm. He could get her to Nashville and dump her wherever she needed to be before he went to Mary’s, before his interview, before Ren learned anything else about his life. “I planned on leaving Tuesday, before spring break starts. It means I’m missing half a week of classes.”
“That’s fine,” she said, nodding. “I can make it up, no problem.”
Jaw clenched, he stared at the wall for a few deep breaths. Finally, he looked squarely at her, trying to infuse some menace into his voice: “If you’re coming with me, there will be rules.”
Her face cleared, eyes round in relief. “Anything you say.”
“Number one, I’m in charge.”
“One hundred percent!”
“And…” He dug around, trying to find more ground rules, but all he could focus on was how much this was going to suck.
“And?”
“And I’ll tell you the rest when we leave.”
She lifted her arm in a dorky salute. “Yes, sir!”
“Rule two: No saluting.”
Ren dropped her hand, bowing instead.
“Rule two continued: No bowing.”
She straightened, rigid. “I’m so relieved. Thank you, Fitz. I promise I won’t show anyone the photo, and you can count on me, because—”
“No talking, either.”
She motioned to zip her mouth closed and he pushed away from the desk, standing. With a sigh, Fitz turned, making sure Audran’s computer reflected his doctored score before shutting it down and checking that all the items on the desk were the way he found them. When he turned back, Ren was still standing at attention, waiting.
From behind her pinned lips she mumbled, “Ahrarehrooree ruhrehrohrihrarhrrharhar!”
He stared, finally relenting. “What.”
She mimed unzipping her lips. “I promise to be the best road trip partner ever!”
“Sure, whatever,” he said. “Meet me outside of Davis Hall at six on Tuesday evening. Don’t be late.”