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“Where’s security?” I whisper, “Aren’t they worried someone will break in?”
Justin shakes his head while inspecting the inside of my bag. It’s empty as instructed. “Only before finals,” he replies, “when people try to change their grades.”
“So, what are you up to?” I ask him flatly, “Are you trying to delete your online porn stash?”
He frowns. “I want to expunge something, but it’s nothing illegal or illicit.”
“Then why do it in the middle of the night?” I whisper as we approach a concrete stairwell that leads to a back door. I feel him glaring in the dark and decide to shut up, watch, and learn. Now isn’t the time for scathing comebacks.
He pulls a metal key out of his pant pocket and opens the door. I look at the dark windows of the building behind us and wonder if anyone is filming. I shiver at the thought of being spied on. It disturbs me more than being confronted.
“Follow me, and do it quietly,” he hisses.
I want to get in there, get out, and into their club. Safety lights illuminate the stairwell as we sneak upstairs, past weirdly lit shadows. The sound of the climate control running is muted behind the gray fire doors. I can’t help but jump a little when something bangs and then echoes in the distance. Justin snatches my arm to still me, and we wait, but no one shows up.
Single-file, we exit the stairwell on the third floor and head toward a room with glass interior walls. Inside, the computer lab is visible with rows of individual study cubes, each with a laptop secured to the desk.
“Why do rich kids need to come here when everyone has a laptop?” I whisper.
“Our internet in the dorms is restricted,” he replies, “These laptops aren’t.”
Somehow that doesn’t sound right, but I don’t question it. Cautiously, he uses a second key to unlock the glass door. There’s a slight chill in the air as we walk inside the flashing and humming room. It’s not that cold, but the chill makes my skin crawl and my shoulders tense up. Justin seems to know what he wants as he stops at a desk with several laptops and immediately unlocks one.
“Where did you get the keys?” I whisper.
“I borrowed them without the other person’s knowledge,” he replies indifferently. “I’ll return them to lost and found in the morning.”
“That’s a fancy way to say you stole them.” I look over his shoulder as he checks the screen. “Why’d you need me?”
“For your backpack,” he replies, “and the penalty for impropriety is lenient compared to the one for theft.” I stare at him in the dim light, and Justin sighs. “For our purposes, impropriety is the state of being inappropriate in an intimate manner with a second person.”
“I know what it means, smartass,” I cut him off, “But why would two people come here to make out and not steal a computer?”
“Because I can afford a computer.” He smirks. “But maybe you can’t.”
“F-you. I have one.”
“Yes, I’ve seen it.” He sneers, and then his gaze lowers to my well-concealed chest. “But if you want, we could commit an impropriety just in case we’re caught.”
I shove him hard, and he must not have been expecting it because Justin starts to go backward. I grab for his arm, and we both tumble down onto the tile floor, our shoes squeaking as we fly on top of each other—me landing on him. Justin holds me still, and frozen, we wait to see if someone heard us. After a minute, no one shows up. I pull myself off him slowly, and I’m surprised that he’s solidly built. His tall frame doesn’t look as if it has much muscle on it, but I was wrong. I’m impressed, but I won’t tell him that.
“Let’s get out of here,” I whisper, “I don’t want to wait for them to find us.”
“Here.” He holds the laptop toward me. “This is your task. Put it in your backpack and keep it safe. That’s what is expected of you. Simple, right?”
