Page 97 of The Unravelings

Now, my glasses are gone.

In the back of my mind, I know exactly where they are. A place that’ll be difficult to get them back from—Malic and Wilder’s house on Syndicate Row. Or maybe not so difficult. I promised myself I wouldn’t go to any more parties at their house an hour ago, but now? Now I have to go back and get them before they realize what they are.

For the second time today, I stare at a blank screen on my laptop. My fingers shake when I access the Veritas portal and search for the automatically uploaded video footage. Thank God I can track my glasses this way, or I’d be super screwed.

“Here goes nothing,” I mutter to no one but the walls closing in on me.

My vision dims when the videos of my evening begin. I go through every bit of my day, leading up to the party. My first study session with JJ. My walk back to my dorm and to the party. Meeting Simon and Daniel before the pink drinks arrived. Everything was going smoothly. Laughing. Fun. Letting loose. It was a damn party full of people excited to be there, watching the strippers, and consuming loads of alcohol.

“Fuck,” I grumble when I loudly complain about my glasses pressing down on my nose in the video and put them on top of my head—like in the picture Simon took. We sing along to the song blasting through the packed party. My cheeks heat when I seem to do a dance move and bump into Simon, who laughs loudly at my antics.

And then…

I wander off. Like Simon had mentioned earlier.

“Well, hello there, Oliver Davenport.”

“Malic,” I slur, stumbling slightly and saying something else in my blacked-out state.

Wonderful, Olivia. Make an even bigger ass of yourself.

“Careful now,” he coos softly. “You’ll break your pretty face if you’re not careful.”

“You think I’m pretty?” I hiccup.

“Hmmm,” he hums to himself as I sit behind this screen, mortified beyond belief. I want the floor to swallow me whole and never spit me back out.

How can this get any worse?

Malic mutters something my glasses don’t pick up, but I get the feeling he’s leaning in close, whispering something into my ear. I don’t seem to react in the video. In fact, I don’t do anything. I don’t pull away. I don’t run away. I stand there and let his breath hit my neck.

We stand there for a few seconds before Simon appears. Thank God for Simon.

“Oli!” Simon’s voice rings out, and I seem to get yanked away from a chuckling Malic. Then, it happens. The video blurs as my glasses fall from my head and land in the midst of the party. Well, until a very familiar face comes into view, examining them with a sharp eye.

My entire body tingles as he tucks the glasses into his pocket, and the video goes dark and stops recording altogether, leaving me with a very bitter taste in my mouth because Malic the Maniac Monroe has my glasses.

And I’ll have to track him down and ask for them back.

27

Olivia

“I can’t believe I let you talk me into this,” Simon fake-gags, putting a hand over his lips. A slight green tint forms over his face, and he looks away from the students currently getting their blood drawn in front of us. “Oli, I think I’m going to lose that amazing breakfast I had.”

Right, the breakfast he ran off and got us from Jenni’s Cafe to occupy his brain from this fiasco he’s about to face.

“Breathe, Si,” I urge, bumping my shoulder against his with my brows raised. “You’re on a mission, remember? Here to meet someone special.” I nudge him again, trying to get him to move, but he’s frozen solid in the sea of students meandering around the large auditorium where they’ve set up the blood drive. In fact, they’ve completely transformed the room into a makeshift hospital with beds, IVs, and nurses running around.

He reluctantly nods, blowing out a breath that doesn’t sound too convinced he should be here.

“Right. I’m on a mission! I swear, though.” He looks slightly over his shoulder, and a shudder runs through his body as he eyes the door, no doubt wanting to make a break for it and leave my side. I’m ten seconds away from grabbing his hand and forcing him to take a few steps. “Maybe I should wait outside, and Daniel can find me there.” He cringes, turning his gaze toward the wall now and heaving a few breaths like he’s keeping his food down. “You know, until the needles are put away.” He points over his shoulder at the students in chairs, happily chatting with one another as certified personnel draw their blood.

“I’m sure Daniel would be happy to see you inside,” I sing-song playfully, bumping his shoulder again.

“Yup. Yeah. I’m so sure he would be, but I’m…” His lips snap shut as approaching footsteps force him to turn around.

I swear, Simon gets body-snatched by aliens. Instantly, at the sight of Daniel marching through the crowd, he lights up like a Christmas tree, no longer worried about the needles and blood. Needles and blood, who? Simon doesn’t know them. Simon focuses only on the man approaching us with a wide grin, equally thrilled to see him.