by Rachel Shane
A ceramic plate whisked through the air toward Poe, missing her head by inches but crashing into the fish tank right behind her. The glass shattered. Screams rang out as water and exotic fish spilled out onto the dance floor. A poor orange fish flopped helplessly next to Poe, opening and closing its mouth. Harper had her hand over her lips, clearly surprised at the damage she’d caused. But the alternative was worse. Harper had been aiming for Poe’s head when she threw the plate, after all.
Poe launched her entire body at Harper, knocking her to the ground. A wet squish and a scream beneath Harper indicated she’d landed directly on a fish. Poe arched her arm backward, ready to swing it into Harper’s face, when someone caught her elbow from behind. Brett stood behind her, tugging her away.
That very moment—when Brett was summoning the strength he’d never shown before after being weak enough to blab, when Poe was vibrating all over from anger, when Harper was a mess of tears—that moment was when Jackson chose to stride over. His head was ducked. His hands were shoved deep in his pockets. Something inside Poe loosened and curled all at once, something that felt like shame. Harper let out another cry, turning away from her brother.
Without warning, Brett let go of Poe and swung one of his already prepped fists into Jackson’s jaw with a force far more impressive than anything Poe would have thought he was capable of. Nearby, students gasped. Harper shrieked loud enough to wake neighbors sleeping miles away. And Poe’s lips twisted into the slightest of smiles because this was the end of it all. The final blow, if you will. Harper would never forgive him for this. They were all even now. They’d all lost everything.
Jackson stumbled backward into a few onlookers who were helping him to his feet. Brett glanced down at his shaking hands, turning them over and over, mouth parted in shock. But Poe guessed he knew exactly what he was doing. After all, he’d decked the one guy in the room that had made Harper cry. Besides himself, of course.
On her feet now, Harper glanced at both of them, her mouth opening. But Poe refused to give her the last word, the satisfaction of being the one to run the knife over the dangling cords of their friendship.
“Fuck this! I won’t be friends with people who don’t give a shit about me!” Poe yelled at the same time Harper whispered, “I can’t do this anymore.”
The words rang like a school bell in Poe’s ears as teachers finally grabbed a hold of them and ushered them out of prom. The fight ended not with a bang but with a whimper. A sniffle from Harper that declared the war was over. A retreat from Poe as a teacher led her away from the scene of the crime. A howl of pain from Brett as he clutched his fist. Everything was over. They each got slapped with a two-week suspension. But this separation wasn’t temporary.
It was forever.
CHAPTER 26
HARPER
Harper’s heels clacked toward Fraternity Row in step with Poe’s and…Brett’s.
Holy shit Brett.
Harper kept trying to steal glances at him out of the corner of her eye, seeing if she could see him in a new light. Fireflies swirled around him, casting him in a glow that switched on and off, like the light bulb in her mind.
Brett was Blake. Blake was Brett.
Her heart was in knots.
She’d been chatting for a year with the guy she never wanted to speak to again. She felt safest with the one guy that had blasted all her secrets through the megaphone of his mouth. The guy who punched her brother with his fists just like he’d punched her in the gut with the secret about Poe and Jackson.
For the last year, she couldn’t wait to get home and talk to Blake. But before she’d met him, she’d felt the same way about Brett. Every night she and Brett would spend hours on FaceTime, watching TV together and watching each other watch TV, cracking jokes all the way. They’d fallen asleep countless times to the sound of each other breathing, their phones dying after hours of connection. They’d listen to audiobooks together but on their separate devices, both of them pausing until the other caught up, no matter how much they itched to find out what happened next. Brett had been her rock at school and then Blake became her rock at home when she’d carved Brett out of her life.
She was going to throw up.
Her legs itched to flee, to run far away from this guy and the past and this situation and let him despair when she cut off all ties to him. But then she glanced over and her heart squeezed. All year long, Blake had been home to her, a familiarity that sunk deep into her pores and cradled her from the inside. He was always there for her when she needed him.
And now he needed her.
She forced her legs into step. She wouldn’t abandon him. Not yet. Not until this night was over and she could find solace in a new sanctuary. Whatever that might be.
“We’re here,” Brett said, snapping Harper out of her trance.
A hulking mansion fashioned with Greek letters on the front sat at on the corner, all the windows dark.
“Let me just knock on the door and see if Maya did the same.”
Just as they reached the edge of the sloped driveway to Out House, two figures came out the front door and halfway down the driveway, blocking their path. The figures wore black hoodies concealing their hair, but they lifted their heads up and the moonlight revealed their identifies.
Brett sucked in a gasp and stopped short. Harper squinted at him before pausing herself. “Do you know them?”
“I wish I didn’t. That’s Nick.” He jutted his chin toward the blond. “And the other one’s Enzo.”
Nick kept his hands behind his back, clearly hiding something. Dark circles hung below his bloodshot eyes. “We knew you’d be back, you fucking liar,” he shouted at Brett.
Brett snorted. “I’m the liar?” But of course, his words held no force. Not when he whispered them so low, only Harper could hear.
“Out House got raided.” Enzo’s hands balled into fists. “My brother was arrested! And all because you couldn’t keep your fucking mouth shut like you promised.”
Brett let out an audible growl. “Just like you promised I was one of you?”
Harper whipped her head toward him, her brows shooting up at his authoritative tone. Even Poe widened her eyes as if impressed.
“It was a test. And you failed.” Nick brought one hand out from behind his back and held a phone in the air. Brett’s phone, judging by his whimper. Nick tossed it on the ground, and then stomped on it, hard. The screen cracked. “That’s only the beginning.” He brought his other hand out from behind him, revealing a yellow Styrofoam carton of eggs. He lifted one delicate egg out and hurled it toward Brett.
Brett shrieked, making no move to duck, but Harper didn’t think. She threw herself in front of him, taking the egg to her chest. She yelped on impact as gelatinous goo oozed down the front of her black shirt. She cringed as she scrubbed it off, the yellow yolk sliding to the ground.
He blinked up at her, his mouth parted in shock, matching her own. Her first instinct wasn’t to save herself…it was to save him.
“I’ve already been to the police station once tonight. I won’t hesitate to go back and give a statement!” she shouted at the boys.
Nick and Enzo glanced at one another before taking off running in opposite directions with their tail between their legs.
“Ha!” Harper shouted into the dark night.
“Thank you.” Brett’s voice was a whisper against the wind. He picked up his broken phone but it wouldn’t turn on.
“I guess we’ve hit a dead end on Maya.”
Brett glanced at the next house over with frilly white curtains billowing in the windows. “Actually, let’s try there. She originally mentioned a sorority.”
The trio traipsed up the steps. Poe leaned forward and pressed the button. A perky blond with a frilly shirt opened the door with a wide smile that dropped a few degrees when her eyes landed on Poe. “Wait. I remember you from the prospectives meeting! Did you get your assignment okay?”
“Um. Yep.” Poe tried to inje
ct some pep into her voice. “But by any chance, did a little girl come by here?”
The blond’s blue eyes widened. “Maya?”
Brett let out a breath. “Oh thank God. What did she say? What did she do?”
Harper cleared her throat. “If you don’t mind, can we come in for a second? We’re looking for her.”
The blond whipped the door open at once. “Oh my gosh, of course! I’m Bethany by the way, one of the volunteers.” Her heels clacked on the hardwood floor as she led them past a sweeping spiral staircase, through a room filled with mismatching couches in different floral patterns, and into…another room filled with mismatching floral couches. She perched on one by the bay window, her back ramrod straight, and swept her hand toward the array of floral furniture in front of her.
The trio plopped down on separate couches spread throughout the room. Harper glanced over at Brett where he balanced on the edge of a far away couch, his knee bouncing up and down.
“Where is she? When was she here? What did she say?”
Bethany held up her hands. “Whoa. First things first. She’d told me her parents’ car broke down a block away and their phones were dead. I let her use mine for a sec to call for help.” Bethany tilted her head. “Was that true?”
Harper cleared her throat when Brett made a strangled sound from his. “Yes, it’s true. But can I see your phone for a sec? I just want to see who she called.”
Bethany wrinkled her nose but slowly lifted the phone from her pocket. The trio leaped from their seats and rushed toward her at once, then awkwardly stood around her, waving their arms forward to let the others in first. Brett took a tentative step forward and grabbed it. Harper and Poe huddled around him as he scrolled to the Scavenger app Maya must have downloaded onto Bethany’s phone. And there, right there, was the next clue tagged #281693.
You’ve talked to a stranger and faced your fears, but now we need to switch gears
Painting, drawing, sketching, too. None of these are truly you.
You ignore a skill that you’ve honed, written it off and disowned
But every night you make some art, even when it’s a la carte
So head to the cafeteria to show off your culinary skills, make something yummy with all the frills
Then hurl it at the nearest table to start a food fight if you’re able
A video this time is what I need, in order to give you your next lead
Harper tilted her head at Poe. “A food fight? What’s wrong with you? We all know how well that went at World War Prom.”
Poe shrugged. “I must have been prophetic because I wrote that the year before.”
Brett cleared his throat. “Technically, this does go back to the books when Adora intentionally starts that battle among soldiers in order to distract them while Cressida swipes a plaque from the wall.”
Poe beamed. “See? Past me totally had good intentions even if this seems like a walk down memory lane of our worst moments together.” She bit her lip. “And, you realize we don’t actually have to do this? We can upload anything. It’s all automated. All it checks is that you’ve uploaded the correct format. Image or video.”
“But we still need to follow the trail in order to find Maya,” Brett reminded her.
Harper handed the phone back to Bethany. “Then off to the cafeteria we go.”
Mustard and ketchup streaks decorated the entryway to the cafeteria. Globs of mashed potatoes dripped from the walls. Every table was covered with a cornucopia of crumbs. In the corner, one lone employee scrubbed down a chair covered in black goo. Harper’s chest rattled the way an old wound aches during the rain. This sight felt like her past, splayed open on the operating table as life support ticked away, waiting to see if she’d be revived.
“Well, I’d say Maya was successful,” Poe said.
“But long gone.” Brett jutted his chin toward all the food kiosks, which were guarded behind metal gates. An hours sign in front of them indicated they stopped serving food an hour ago.
“Then let’s keep moving.” Poe snapped a video and uploaded it to the app. The next clue brought the trio to the football stadium where Maya had erected a sculpture made entirely out of toilet paper and cardboard boxes. After that, the trio found her cubist replica of a person, rendered entirely out of the stray undies littering the lawn, heard the tales of her epic karaoke performance in the Student Union, and found her cartoon replicas of her best friends displayed in the windows of the Science Building. They didn’t go through the motions of the clues, instead snapped pics of Maya’s effort and phoned it in, literally, but it was the next clue that made them stop short.
Now’s the time when things get real. For this next clue you need to steal.
Get some balls and liberate, something of value from someone you hate.
If no one fits the bill right now, make an enemy real quick somehow
You might be wondering how art comes into play, but the art of stealing is a little gray
Harper’s mouth flopped open. Brett’s face went white. And Poe donned a weird smirk. “Oh man, I totally forgot this one.” She turned to Brett. “At the time, I was worried you didn’t have a bad bone in your body so I thought I’d give you one.”
“There’s no location.” Brett scrolled up frantically on Poe’s phone. “Maya could have done this anywhere.”
“We can take a pic of anything.” Poe lifted the camera and aimed it at Harper and Brett.
But Brett held up his hand. “Actually, I think we should do this one for real.” He took a deep breath and turned to Harper. “I think we can all agree there’s someone we very much hate.”
Harper flinched just thinking of Connor.
Poe bounced on her toes. “Oh! And you need help stealing something from him! This is perfect!”
Harper shuffled her feet. “Are you guys sure? Finding Maya is much more important.”
Brett placed a hand on her shoulder, his voice soft. “I’m sure. You guys are helping me. I want to help you in return. Besides, it’s pretty clear from her clues that Maya’s doing just fine. We can catch up with her on the next one.”
Something inside Harper’s chest unfurled and a nervous flutter warmed her belly. “Okay,” she whispered in an equally soft voice. “I have an idea how to do it. But it’s sort of insane. And we need to head back to Frick for supplies.”
Poe swiveled on her heels and started stomping toward the dorm she’d traded everything for.
When they reached the entrance of Frick Hall, they were greeted by a swarm of girls decked in all black, war paint streaked on their cheeks, blocking the entrance.
“No entry,” one of the girls snapped, crossing her arms and delivering her fiercest weapon: her bitchface.
“I’m staying with Starr. She’s—”
“Oh. She’s expecting you.” She stepped aside to let the group pass. As they entered the building, Harper felt more like she was entering a prisoner of war camp than a campus dorm. The whole place was in shambles, smoke rising through the hallways, causing Harper to wave her hand in front of her mouth to stave off coughing. Mud sloshed on the linoleum floor in heavy clumps, straw and hay stuck through. Poe stopped short in front of a giant sludge puddle and scurried back a step away from it, yelping. Brett stood beside Harper, a comrade refusing to go forward.
Starr stomped toward them in the mud in her rain boots, her dark hair blowing luxuriously behind her as if she was staring in a music video. She shot them the fiercest of looks before breaking out in a smile. “Girl, where have you been?”
“Not as busy as you,” Harper said. “What happened?”
Starr let out a heavy sigh. “War. And we’re losing.” She went on to tell them about the retaliation prank the girls had done on the guys—painting their exterior pink with a combination of roller brushes and ladders. But while they were out of their rooms, the guys sneaked in and raided their underwear, then spread the goods around campus. Along with mud.
“Where’s campus secur
ity?” Brett asked.
Starr grinned. “Dealing with bigger messes, from what I hear. There was some hazing kidnapping incident plus an underage drinking raid at a party off campus. Their office is supposedly packed with offenders and they only have three people on duty tonight.”
Poe grinned. “I guess I’ll take the credit for that thanks to my annoying-ass host calling the cops on me.”
Starr turned to Harper. “I’m sorry we couldn’t get your asshole ex back like you asked.”
Poe straightened. “Actually, that’s a good thing. Because now I can—”
A weird buzzing noise began in Harper’s ear. The others must have heard it too because they whipped their heads around. Poe swatted in the air. A tickling sensation blossomed on Harper’s arm and she yelped, slapping a big fat mosquito on her forearm. Another landed on her leg.
And her face.
She glanced up to see a swarm of bugs flying around their heads, buzzing and dancing and infesting every area of the dorm. Poe screamed, racing for the entrance but slipping on mud and landing splat on her back. The bugs moved in for the kill while she lay on the ground, a helpless victim. Fear clawed up Harper’s spine, and she ran straight into a heavy swarm of black dots to offer Poe her hand.
Poe thrashed on the ground, covering her head, splattering mud everywhere. But Harper wrenched her hands free and tugged, pulling Poe to her feet. Harper and Poe sloshed to the front door hand in hand where they faced a blockade. An actual blockade in the form of a wooden plank nailed to the doorframe that wasn’t there five minutes ago. Starr clawed at the frame trying to get out.
Brett raced toward them, skidding on the mud. “Side entrance is blocked too.”
Bugs swarmed around their heads. Crap, they had to do something, not just stand around.
