Page 47 of The Stalker Snafu

Trying not to be obvious, I slowly set down Noah’s flash cards and peeked from beneath my lashes. A quick scan of the stacks nearby didn’t reveal any spectators. A couple students were innocently reading in comfy chairs by the windows. A few tables over from me, a girl was poring over a pile of books and looked ready to pull her hair out.

I may have even glanced under my table.

No sign of my stalker.

But I wasn’t buying it.

“I know you’re out there,” I whispered, just in case he could hear me. Not that he even understood English.

When no friendly neighborhood stalkers popped out from behind the stacks—and the only answer to my whisper was the other girl scooting her chair further away from me—I officially felt like a paranoid pigeon.

But that didn’t mean my gut was wrong.

Luckily, I knew exactly who to text for advice on how to handle this.

Emma

How would a magician deal with a stalker they can’t see but know is there?

Finn responded instantly.

Cupcake Thief

Hold up. Serious talk. Someone’s stalking you?

Emma

Don’t worry, he’s friendly.

I think.

Friendly enough to get inside a disappearing box if you suggest it?

Not sure if he’d fit. He’s big.

… You need me to take care of him, Cupcake? I’m happy to be of service.

A soft snort escaped me. Imagining Finn—with his skinny arms and pretty face—standing up to my super-sized tattooed stalker was comical, but also kind of cute.

Emma

I appreciate the offer, but I can handle it.

Cupcake Thief

Totally believe in you. If you change your mind and want a partner in crime-fighting, just flip the Finn Signal on.

I swallowed the urge to burst into laughter, not wanting to risk angering the librarians. What would a Finn Signal even look like—a magic wand lighting up the sky? Or the leftover crumbs from a stolen cupcake?

Before I could ask, movement at one of the stacks startled me into dropping my phone. I reached for my pepper spray—but it was just Blaise Rousseau who’d rounded the corner into my little study haven.

She cocked a brow when she saw me. “Someone’s jumpy.”

This was so not what I needed right now.

I forced a tight smile, determined to be polite. “Blaise.”

She made a show of eyeing the empty seats at my table. “No boyfriend?”