Page 43 of Forever Relentless

We walked the remainder of the way to the dorm in silence. I was selfishly relieved Dustin wasn’t in his room when we got in, and with not an ounce of guilt, I plucked one of his bags of candy from their hiding spot and shared them with Dante.

“He’s really shit at hiding things.” Dante was leaning against the counter, his duffle bag at his feet, munching on the candy with the same precision he threw the ball. I doubted he was tasting the chocolate.

“He is, but then again, he’s short,” I smirked. “Probably thinking the four inches I have on him doesn’t mean I can see into the cupboard better.”

Dante laughed, tossing the last handful of candy in his mouth. “Heightist.”

I frowned. “Is that a word?”

“Yep.”

“I don’t think it is.”

Dante shrugged, scooping his bag off the floor. “I know what it means, you know what it means, so . . . it’s a word.” He pushed his bedroom door open. “I’m going to do some schoolwork, or try to at least.”

Yeah, because in the middle of all this shit, we were still college juniors, and we needed to study and do all the things to keep us eligible.

And with that reminder, I went into my room to do the same.

Chapter 10

Noah

I had just closed my door when I got a text.

Unknown: Be at my place 8 p.m. — only you and the QB

I read the message again. Would Diana assume we knew where she lived, or was this Briar? And in any case, how did either of them get my number?

Me: Who is this?

Unknown: Seriously? Just be here at 8 or don’t. We don’t care.

Jesus, touchy much? I didn’t put that. I wanted to, but I decided diplomacy was better.

Me: See you then

I went and rapped my knuckles against Dante’s door; his muffled ‘come in’ had me pushing the door open.

“You free at eight?” I asked him, holding up my phone.

He read the brief exchange. “I am now.”

His books were open in front of him. He saw my look.

“I need to take my mind off it all . . . And,” he said with a wry smile, “I don’t want to give them a reason to come after me. Another reason at this rate . . .”

“Agreed. Was going to do the same thing.” I headed to my room. “I’ll see you for dinner?”

“Yeah, we’ll go down together,” he shouted after me.

I didn’t study. I spent forty minutes writing half a paper and the rest of the time trying to find information on Diana, Mason Sterling, and anyone who’d know them.

I wasn’t very successful. I found one picture of Diana on social media, and it was a Wrighton U post. She was tagged, but her account was private. Even I wasn’t so bold as to request to follow.

I texted Tate for a bit, shared the premise of my paper with him, got the green light that I hadn’t misunderstood the assignment, and then I pretty much sat on my bed, back against the wall, and replayed the conversations with Mason, Briar, and Diana again and again on a loop.

When Dante yelled, “Dinner,” I realized I hadn’t even taken off my sneakers since I came back to the room.