by Rachel Shane
“Not next time!” Kate did a little bounce and the eyelash went on crooked. She cursed under her breath.
“You know what I meant.” Valentina ripped her makeup bag off the counter. “I’m leaving in one minute, with or without your ass.”
Kate’s eyes widened at the swinging door. She turned toward Poe, shaking her head. “She can be so dramatic sometimes.” And then Kate ripped off her other false eyelash before running after Valentina.
Poe gave Kate a few seconds head start and then fled the bathroom, her body amped and ready for a long run. She looked left and right wildly before she spotted the two girls emerging from a door down the hall. Valentina swung her long hair and pulled her sidekick into step, their sky-high heels clicking as they left the stained carpet and headed into the elevator.
Poe wrenched open the stairwell door, her own feet stomping so loudly, her steps sounded like bombs in her ears. Her breath came out raggedly as she took the four flights at the speed of a bullet train, emerging into the lobby panting. The numbers above the elevator next to her glowed from two to one, the door dinging, and Poe rushed out of the way, lest the girls think she was following them. Which she was of course.
She squeezed her body into the space between two vending machines, earning a side-eyed salute from a boy walking past, two grocery bags swinging from his hands. Poe stood statue still as the girls loped toward the doorway, offering the boy a lazy wave followed by a set of pronounced giggles. A cool blast of nighttime air sneaked in when they pulled open the outside doors and disappeared into the dark. Poe kept her eyes on their retreating forms, counting to one, two, safe distance to stalk someone. On the road, vehicles must stay at least one car length behind others but trailing someone required far more distance. She pushed herself off the wall, her gait a mixture of jogging and walking.
She reached out an arm to open the exit door, but a figure squeezed into the space between her and the door, blocking her departure.
Lucy.
Lucy’s glare was as scary as a gun and just as deadly. “Nope,” was all she said, both a threat and a conversation ender. “You’re not allowed to leave.”
Poe craned her neck outside, where her sister was disappearing around a bend and possibly out of her life for good. She had done a lot of things she wasn’t allowed to do and this little stick figure of a roadblock was not about to stop her. She opened her mouth to snark but “I’ll be fine,” came out of her lips. No one had ever cared enough to stop her.
Lucy cupped her hands against the door handle, keeping the door shut with all her might. “If you leave this dorm, I’m calling campus security on you.”
Poe scoffed. “I don’t even go here.” But I will. Her admission was contingent on a lot of things, tuition now taken care of, but Poe suspected if she broke the rules during a prospective student overnight, she’d find herself on the rejected list after all.
“If you read section one A of the overnight guidelines, you’d know—”
But wait…Lucy thought she was Harper “Poe” Faegan, not Poe Culliver. If Lucy called security, they would be searching for the wrong girl. Or the right girl, if you viewed the situation like Poe did.
Poe reached behind Lucy and tickled her side, using battle tactics of five-year-olds. But it worked, a giggle escaped Lucy’s lips and her hands fell from the door to swat Poe away. Poe used the moment of distraction to wrench open the door hard enough to send Lucy scooting backward. She launched herself over the threshold.
Lucy crossed her arms, her feet firmly planted inside the dorm. “I’m warning you.” She lifted her cell phone from her pocket and started punching numbers.
Poe raised her middle finger before spinning around and not looking back.
CHAPTER 12
BRETT
BlakeSpacey: Tell me more about this revenge plot? You’re not going to do anything dangerous are you?
ShadowGirl: Not as dangerous as GRAFFITI. But on that note, I have to go. I’ll be in touch later with the meet up plans!
BlakeSpacey: Wait seriously. What kind of revenge are you planning to commit and how do I stop you?
He squeezed his phone in a tight fist, willing her to reply.
Maya let out an exasperated sigh and threw her hands in the air, gold bracelets she wasn’t wearing a few minutes ago sliding down to her elbow. “Oh my God. Stop texting already!” Sparkles on her lids caught the overhead light. She wasn’t wearing eye shadow earlier either. “Let’s do this hunt.” She plucked a campus map she’d somehow acquired and spread it out over one of the hotel desk. “Look’s like Frick is right across the street. But first we need supplies.”
Brett squinted at her. “I thought you had spray paint.”
Maya bit her lip. “Um, it’s gone.”
Brett placed his hands on his hips. “And where did it go?”
Maya’s cheeks flourished with red, but she lifted a brow. “How about I don’t speak of this, you don’t speak of that, deal?”
Brett blew out a hot breath.
Maya traced her finger, which now boasted shimmery gold polish, along the crinkled page. “The Student Union is over here. They sell art supplies.”
Brett raised his brow. “Wow, you’ve really thought this through.”
“Well, you left me on a bench for thirty minutes.” She tilted her head. “Besides, it worries me that you haven’t thought this through. Don’t you want to impress this girl?”
Brett’s jaw dropped. “Wait. How did you—?”
Maya rolled her eyes. “I’m not oblivious like Mom.” She took a step toward the doorway.
As he followed after her, he caught a glimpse of himself in the full-length mirror affixed to the closet, his cape waving in the gust of wind caused by his abrupt turn. Suddenly, he saw himself for who he really was. A joke. A guy trying too hard. Someone alienating others just because it was easier than trying. What would ShadowGirl think of him if she realized he was always hiding behind something: a cape, a shield, a keyboard? She’d constructed this scavenger hunt to get him out in public and reveal himself. So with shaky fingers, he unhooked the cape from around his neck and let it fall to the ground in a puddle of black, like he was unmasking his superhero identity and facing life as the guy without the suit, the one who worked at the newspaper for low pay. The rest of his makeshift costume joined the cape until he was standing in nothing but a black t-shirt and black jeans. Just himself, revealed.
In the Student Union, a glorious array of spray paints, oils, acrylics, pastels, charcoals, and papers of every vellum and material invited Brett’s mouth to water. Maya plucked a can of silver spray paint and shook it, the contents inside rattling against the metal canister. “This one could be cool?”
Brett ran his finger over every can. Coral. Raw Sienna. Phthalo blue. They were the Pantone colors of his soul. This was home, among the only friends he could always count on. Well, except when the tubes ran out of paint. This was his future. He imagined himself trekking here before class, picking up a fresh sketchbook, and christening it with black fine point markers.
He shook his head at Maya’s choice. She blew her brown bangs out of her face and stomped toward another section. She ripped a burnt orange can from the shelf and thrust her arm toward him. “Fine. How about this one?”
The back of Brett’s neck prickled. This wasn’t right. This wasn’t what ShadowGirl wanted. She’d instructed him to use unexpected tools and then had balked when he’d mentioned breaking the law for some graffiti. God, he was such an idiot. This whole scavenger hunt was based off the one in The Gorgeous Games in which Adora and Cressida were paired together as teammates despite being mortal enemies. The first duo to decipher all the clues would find the Prince’s location and receive immunity through the next round, which was valuable in a deadly competition for his heart. Of course, Adora only entered in an attempt to overthrow the royal family’s rule and Cressida was his best friend and a royal guard under cover on a mission to find the traitor suspected of infiltratin
g the competition. Not to mention the girls ultimately fell for each other instead. But the key here was that the clues were not what they originally appeared.
Secrets sealed within walls of stone. Unbreakable as secrets ought to be. But I am already broken.
The other teams went around smashing stone walls and destroying historic or magical landmarks, but Adora and Cressida worked methodically, bonding while they examined every exposed stone lining the castle. All it took was a little forging of their magic to bring out the message hidden written on the stone itself with invisible ink. On the surface, the stone was normal, but only those who knew what to look for and how to find it could read the next clue.
“We’re going about this all wrong.” This knowledge tingled in Brett’s bones. “It’s not graffiti she wants. It’s a secret code. One that will disappear the instant the magic…er…the materials go away.”
Maya wrinkled her nose. “But—the clue specifically said graffiti. And that’s way more fun than a secret message.” Still, she trailed Brett past the art supplies and textbooks into the grocery section of the Student Union. It carried all the essentials, everything from loaves of white bread to deodorant. “What are you looking for? Ramen noodles?”
Brett plucked a can of shaving cream from the hygiene aisle. The red and blue stripes twisted as he held it up. “An unexpected tool.”
Maya ripped the can out of his hand and replaced it with the girly kind complete with a pink bottle and color changing pink gel that turned to white foam. “This is unexpected.”
After paying, the duo raced to Frick Hall. They slinked around the south side and surveyed the blank canvas of bricks under a splash of moonlight and the faint glow from a nearby streetlamp.
“What are you going to draw?”
“Graffiti is traditionally a tag, like a logo, right? I can create one for—”
Maya shook her head. “You’re trying to impress her here. So impress her.”
Brett pulled his cell phone out and snapped a quick selfie with his crooked smile. He squared his shoulders and aimed the shaving cream canister at the wall, transferring the sharp lines of his jaw, the curve of his nose, the droop of his eyes onto the brick in his signature cartoon style. The can hissed as foam shot out, wobbling in an unwieldy way as his arm arced across the red bricks. The gel puffed up, firming into white foam. When he finished, he snapped the cap back on the shaving cream and stepped back.
Maya gasped. “Wow, it’s really good.”
Brett swallowed hard. It was him. Mr. Nice Guy. His secret, now exposed on the brick wall. It wasn’t a photograph or even an elbow, but sending this to ShadowGirl would show her exactly what he looked like. With shaky fingers, he snapped a photo of his masterpiece. She’d called it evidence in the original message and now it was. Once he sent this, there would be no hiding behind a screen. She’d see past his words to his face.
Maya hopped up and down. “Let me upload it!”
Brett hugged the phone close. “No, I don’t want to mess it up.”
“I won’t! I already know the code. It’s 639841.”
Brett typed those numbers into the app and added the photo to the upload box. He pressed send, his stomach clenching. With a whoosh, the answer went straight to ShadowGirl.
Brett paced the soft grass in front of the brick, his hands clasped behind his head. He was definitely going to vomit.
A few seconds passed with no response. He’d been waiting for a year now to meet ShadowGirl but he’d lost control of his patience the second he stepped foot on the grassy quad. He banged out a haphazard DM to her. It’s sent. Go look at it before I keel over in a crumble of nerves.
Her response was instant. What’s sent?
Blake: The clue answer. Check out the south side of Frick Hall for the real life experience.
At that moment, the app buzzed with a new message and a new code: 820142. Brett held his breath as Maya read over his shoulder.
Congrats on completing clue number one, but don’t think you’re even close to done.
Head on over to fraternity row, where it’s time to put on a show.
Call it what you want: performance art, con, or prank. Either way, it’s time you break rank.
Disguise yourself and talk your way inside, but don’t ever let them know you lied.
Take a photo of something on the first floor that isn’t visible from the entryway door.
Exit the house without getting caught and upload the pic without another thought!
His stomach dropped. Performance art, the one art skill he lacked in spades. It required a certain something called balls, and he wasn’t sure his even counted.
Maya grabbed the phone and spun on her heels, her bracelets jangling. “Fraternity row’s back this way!”
Brett hustled after his sister. “But I need to come up with a plan to get inside first.”
Maya beamed at him. “That’s where I come in. I’ll knock on the door of one of the sororities and say I’m lost. Ask to use their phone or something. I’ll sneak a picture when they’re not looking.”
“No. No way. I’m not involving you.” He swallowed down the lump in his throat. “Besides, I think this is something I actually need to do myself.”
This clue harkened back to the scene where Cressida and Adora dressed as men to infiltrate a royal Duke’s house where they plucked a golden chalice from his bedroom that held the next clue. Brett gasped. There may be more to these clues than putting a modern spin on the scavenger hunt they both loved. All these tasks seemed to connect to conversations he’d had with ShadowGirl over the last year. When he’d told her about his rebellious phase that fell on deaf ears because his mother never even realized he was acting out. He confessed his desire to just spray paint her whole damn house to see if she noticed. Or that time he told her the one art skill he sucked at was of the performance variety because it involved things like actually talking to people he didn’t know. He wished he could be as brave as that.
And now she was giving him the chance.
He took a deep breath. “I can go to OUT House. Say I’m looking for Thomas. That guy from the dorm Tyler pawned us off on?”
Maya pursed her lip. “The one who kind of looked like you?”
Except cooler and more muscular… “Yeah, him. The performance part will come from the fact that I’ll pretend to be his brother visiting for the night.”
Maya skipped ahead. “I like it!”
Omega Upsilon Tau was a hulking gray Victorian house that looked more fit for a horror movie than a kegger. All the lights were off and only the rustle of wind remained. They paused two houses down. “I need you to go wait somewhere safe.” Brett twisted around, surveying the leafy trees that separated OUT House from the fraternity next door where bass pumped from the walls. He jutted his chin toward a cluster of cars a few feet away. “Crouch down between those. Hopefully this should only take a few minutes. If we get separated in any way, go back to the hotel room and meet up there. You have your key?”
Maya held up a slim white card and rolled her eyes. “You’re no fun.”
But this was the most fun Brett had in a full year.
Maya stomped toward the cars and crouched down out of sight. Brett took a deep breath and headed toward the OUT house driveway.
“Dude, there he is!” a deep male voice said from behind Brett when he’d stepped onto the driveway.
“Oh, Thomas!” a second voice sang in a singsong way. “You’re late!”
Footsteps behind Brett pounded loud and heavy. Before he even had a chance to turn around, two meaty hands grabbed his shoulders, steadying him in place while another slapped his mouth with the sticky prison of duct tape. Brett tried to scream for Maya but the tape muffled the sound. His pulse beat hard and fast in his neck. He flailed against his attackers, but their grips tightened, digging into his arms. A bag descended over his head, gauzy fabric filtering in the light but nothing else. Only shapeless blobs.
A girlish scream rang out
a few feet away followed by the signature stomp of combat boots striking the sidewalk.
Panic climbed Brett’s spine. Was Maya okay? He gasped for breath through his nose, sucking desperately against the black fabric covering his face. It was going to suffocate him! Death by asphyxiation and mistaken identity! But his lungs continued to pump in and out, snatching oxygen from the thin weave of the fabric.
He jerked his shoulders left and right as the attackers wrenched his arms behind his back and bound his wrists with scratchy rope. Tears pricked at his eyes, then fell in clumps down his cheeks. The fabric bag over his head sopped them right up.
“Aww stop it, Thomas,” a voice cut through the breaths growing harsh against Brett’s throat. “You don’t want it to get back to the others that you’re being a pansy ass.”
I’m not Thomas! Brett shouted both in his mind and against the tape but it was no use. It came out only as gibberish mumbles.
A hand shoved him hard, forcing his legs into step. He lurched forward, almost careening to the ground. The collar tightened around his throat as a guy yanked him upright again.
“This will be much easier if you cooperate,” the second voice said.
Maybe if he cooperated, his attackers would spare his sister and not run after her. He stopped flailing—after all, his attempts to fight back were only resulting in more injuries. He placed one foot in front of the other and slowed his desperate gulps for breaths into steady streams until his head cleared.
He wouldn’t be able to escape while he was freaking out. His only chance was to outsmart his attackers, and he ignored the fact that the only reason his grades were so good was because he spent three years cheating off Poe.
“Turn right.”
Brett twisted his body to the right, his feet skidding over uneven sidewalk. A gusty breeze blew the bag around his face, tickling his nose and cheeks.
