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Not that the size and height advantage necessarily meant that Drew would beat Xavier in a fight. First off, Xavier wasn’t exactly small himself, and secondly, he had that thing psychos always had in the movies, where even if they were sporting a caved-in skull after being hit with a sledgehammer, or were bleeding from a major artery while dragging their intestines behind them after being harpooned in the stomach, they would still find a way to come back one last time.
Xavier wasn’t going down without a fight, ever, and knowing how stubborn they both were, it would likely be a fight to the death. Not that I had any intention of testing that theory. I rose and inserted myself between them. Luckily for all concerned, I was bigger than the two guys put together, and though I generally kept shit on an even keel, if someone pushed me too hard, or too far, it was a different story. Nobody wanted to see that, not even the two most hot-headed dudes I knew.
“Ladies, ladies. Calm your fucking farms. Need I remind each of you, and everyone else—” I motioned around the room at the other members of the Northern Star, who ran Cygnus Dei, “—how much we all have to lose if this shit gets out. Bitchassing and turning on each other isn’t going to get us out of the shit we may very well be in, so stop being jerks, and cool your tits.”
A stunned silence descended on the room. It was pretty unusual for me to speak out in those terms, but these were unusual circumstances. Firstly, I’d been the one targeted to receive the “calling card,” which felt personal, as it was clear that my identity and membership of Cygnus had somehow been compromised. Not only that, but in putting out the Code Black, I’d missed practice, and was going to get double-fisted by coach as a result. No matter how big or ugly a dude was, Coach didn’t hesitate to tear him a new one, and feed the old one to the dogs. I was fucked from all angles.
Chapter 2
Honey
As I gripped the Polaroid in my hand, it was all I could do to remain upright. The room spun around me, and I swore to God, my vision went black momentarily. When I came to, I still felt sick as a dog.
I squinted down at the grainy photo again, hoping against hopes that in the brief time I’d been out of it, the image on it had somehow morphed into something else, or that I’d been mistaken. Maybe I needed an eye test, or stronger glasses and contacts. I couldn’t have seen what I thought I had.
When the image came into focus, nothing had changed. The grainy, old school-photo-type evidence was still right there in my hand. Proof that I hadn’t been alone that night. Proof that someone other than the invited attendees had potentially witnessed what I had, or at the very least, someone knew I was there.
Not only that, but they knew who I was, and where to find me, and they were brazen enough to come into my space to give me a not-so-subtle clue to prove it. They’d entered my office at some point in the last twelve to fifteen hours and left me their calling card.
Not that the old converted janitorial closet at Heathcote University really qualified as an office, but it was all the space that the Heathcote Herald had dedicated to it, and we’d somehow managed to cram in three desks, a printer, and a few other bits and pieces to make the place feel like something.
“We,” being Cally, my deputy-editor/sub-editor and close friend, and whatever contributors we were working with on the current issue.
A chill suddenly swept through my body, despite it being a comparatively mild fall morning. It wasn’t the temperature so much as fear bringing on the cold sweat—beads of which trickled uncomfortably down my spine. Someone had witnessed me witnessing what I’d witnessed. That someone wanted me to know they knew. That someone could very well be watching me as I stood statue-still in shock in the tiny space. The situation was beyond creepy.
My mind automatically ran to a number of worst case scenarios. What if they were watching me twenty-four seven? What if they were following me? What if they’d put tiny cameras and listening devices around the place? Well bad luck on them—there was nothing to see. I was merely going about my business, and as neither Cally nor anyone else connected to the paper had any idea what I was working on, there was never any conversation about it.
If they’d somehow infiltrated my computer, it would be a different story. Could they? Had they? I realized how crazy and neurotic that thought seemed, but in the current context it wasn’t outside the bounds of possibility. In fact, it was not only possible, but maybe even likely. Shit.
My mind raced. What was the play here? What could or would whoever this person was want with me, except to scare the living crap out of me?
“Hi.”
“Jesus Christ!” I jumped about three feet in the air, my heart racing at ten thousand beats per second, as I scrambled to stuff the rogue photo under a disorganized and precariously balanced stack of papers on my desk. “Holy fuck, you scared me out of my skin.”
“Sorry... I think? Did you forget that we were meeting?” I hadn’t forgotten when I’d left my room and headed to the office, but somehow, realizing I was being stalked had put the thought right out of my mind.
“Yeah, sorry. I zoned out and had a complete brain fart for a moment. Totally my bad. Sorry.”
“No need to apologize—it happens to the best of us.” Cally was being cool about my oddball behavior, but as she cocked her head, squinting at me like she was trying to figure out some kind of riddle, she probably thought I’d lost my goddamned mind. She wasn’t far wrong. Still, it was nice of her to try to downplay my weirdness, so that I didn’t feel like quite such an idiot.
“Okay, so I think it may be just us—none of the regular contributors can make it. Natalie in particular sends her apologies.”
“Okay. I’m kind of glad in a way. I mean, while I love having a team around us, it can also get a little stifling in here if we have a few attendees. I’ve never been good with small spaces, and this is the definition of that, especially given that it has no windows, and all.” She had a point—the space felt very small, very quickly, as soon as there were more than two people crammed into it.
“So true. Anyway, no need to worry about that today, and once we have a list of pieces we want to work on for the next little while, I’ll hit up some of the contributors and see who wants to do what.”
“Cool, sounds like a plan.”
We spent the best part of the next two hours spitballing ideas, but the time passed like it was fifteen minutes. I was never happier than when thinking about, planning or working on articles. Except maybe when I was curled up in a chair reading, which seemed to be happening less and less these days, with my workload of classes, assignments and articles to juggle. Not to mention my part-time job at Where You Bean. My leisure time was pretty much nonexistent, and so was my social life, but that kind of suited me fine.
I wasn’t quite an introvert, maybe more of an ambivert, I guessed. I didn’t mind people, up to a point, and could hold my own socially, but after a certain amount of “peopling”—between serving coffee, attending classes and working on the paper—by the end of most long-ass days, I was happy to retreat to my room alone. I was kind of glad not to feel obliged to speak to anyone or do anything once I entered the boundaries of those four walls.
Not that I was a total lone wolf or Nora-No-Buddies—I had friends, and close-ish acquaintances, but my circle was small, and I just really enjoyed the slim slice of peace and quiet I had every day in the solace of my room.
I must have zoned out again, and as I brought my attention back to the meeting, I found Cally staring at me expectantly, but I had no idea what she’d said, and therefore, what she was expecting from me.
“Umm... sorry, my mind was elsewhere.” Again.
