Page 25

Leaning against a low stone wall beside the old entrance, she has one ankle crossed over the other, her phone clutched in her hand as if she’s anticipating needing a speedy getaway.

“This is giving serial killer vibes,” she gestures to all of me. My expression is flat, and I don’t bother commenting on the fact that she still showed. Laura is a freshman, one of three I narrowed down as potentials for the scheme I’ve come up with. Granted, I was high as fuck at the time, but some might say that’s the only time I have any clarity. The only time I can park my emotions and be rational. Without Meg in the picture, Everest won’t be distracted. He won’t be torn. He will choose me.

Which brings me back to Laura and the checklist I created on her. She’s a drama student, aka a keen actress, new enough to the academy to have not made any meaningful connections, pretty enough to gain enough attention but not smart enough to graduate. I’m not saying that just to be a dick. Laura barely passed her entrance exams, achieving the lowest grade of all the new admissions. Her recommendations were subpar, and she’s unlikely to pass her looming scholarship probation. She isn’t thriving here, and she could use a cash boost, which made her the perfect candidate for my plan.

“So…What do you want?” Laura tosses her blonde hair over her shoulder.

“I’m going to offer you a one-time deal,” I state, reaching into my satchel and pulling out a thick brown envelope. Laura’s eyes widen, and finally, thankfully, she drops the confident façade. Placing the envelope into her hand, I casually lower myself onto the small wall and let her feel the padded contents. “That’s yours whether you choose to help me or not. Although, I assure you, there’s plenty more where that came from.”

She eyes me suspiciously, the exact same expression my mom gave me when I FaceTimed her, asking for the money. I made up some bullshit about wanting to attempt learning the trombone and needing a specialized tutor to catch up. Again, I was high. If Laura takes me up on my offer, I’ll have to act like I made the brass band or some shit. The uniforms and excursions will cost a metaphorical fortune.

To my surprise, Laura doesn’t scoff and roll her eyes. Instead, she appears interested.

“What would I have to do?” Angling my body, I lower my voice to ensure our conversation stays private in case anyone stumbles our way.

“I want you to put on a performance, and then I want you to leave Hollowbrook. I’ll provide you with whatever you need: papers, a new identity, money. Disappear from social media, change your appearance, get a new phone. I need you fully gone.”

Laura stares at me, her lips parted, and the envelope still clutched to her chest like she’s already made her decision before her morals have the chance to catch up. This is the part where I expected her to take the money and leave. I’ve replayed it all night in my head, how she might gasp and slap me. How she’d threaten to tell the entire campus that my extracurriculars are using people like puppets, or question how a punk like me would be able to get his hands on so much money. But none of that happens. Laura searches my face and realizes I’m not joking. I’m deadly serious.

“What did I do to you?” Laura’s voice is small, her brows twitch with hurt, and I almost laugh. Shaking my head, I exhale roughly.

“If you were my intended target, you’d know it.”

“So what am I, collateral damage?” She narrows her eyes. I half shrug, supposing that’s the best way to put it. Rising to my full height, I stand close enough to force Laura’s neck to bend.

“You’re the one who gets to dip out before you’re forced out,” I raise my pierced brow. Laura opens her mouth to reply, but I rush to cut her off. “You arrived here three weeks ago and have sat alone at lunch for all of them. Your roommate requested reassignment after four days. You applied to three other academies before this one, and none of them accepted you. You’ve been searching for part-time work because your scholarship doesn’t fund the lifestyle you wish you had. How am I doing?” I pause, watching each fact make her flinch.

Yeah, I’ve done my research, and this is one of the only times I’m happy the students of Hollowbrook catalogue everything on the online forum.

“I’m offering a far more promising way out than you could have hoped for.” Holding her gaze, I carefully read each thought passing through her mind. Eventually, she looks away, staring toward the broken path where voices drift faintly between buildings.

“And what do you get?” she asks, too distracted to see how my throat works. There’s the question I won’t answer out loud. I can’t. Not without revealing my connection to Everest. Turning away, I put some space between us, stopping in front of an ivy-covered wall.

“How about I explain the plan, and you can think on it?” I ask more patiently than I feel. I am uprooting Laura’s life. After all, whether it’s in her best interest or not. It’s definitely in my best interest. Nodding slowly, Laura doesn’t appear to be fully present anymore. She’s spiraling with all the what-ifs and maybes I’ve presented her. At my gesture toward the low wall, she sits, her eyes fixed over my shoulder as she listens to my instructions.

First, Laura needs Meg to invite her to the Freshers’ Party taking place in a few days. Then, she needs to attend, be seen by as many people as possible, photobomb pictures, linger in the background of videos, make herself known by living out every college girl’s frat party fantasy. After that, in the early hours of the morning, Laura walks off campus and doesn’t come back. I stay vague with the finer details of that final step, not bothering to plan that far ahead until I have a willing accomplice standing in front of me.

What I purposefully leave out is how Laura’s disappearance will be staged as a kidnapping. Or how I’ll also be at the party, carefully providing myself with an alibi. Or how I’m going to make sure Meg’s memory of the night becomes unreliable enough to turn every word she says into something people can doubt. Drugging Meg is ethically a step too far, even for me, but necessary all the same. She needs to be disoriented, uncertain, shaken, an unreliable witness for when I place the anonymous call to the cops claiming there has been another kidnapping.

Then stage three happens, and the following morning is the most critical part. Meg realizes her personal villain is still at large, triggering a trauma response that sends her straight back to the rehab clinic. This time, I won’t be in attendance. That’s where I messed up before. I should have stayed here, enjoying the reward of having Everest to myself once again. He’ll finally see Meg for what she is. Unstable. Too fractured to fulfil whatever ideology she’s built around her. Then our lives will be back on track, our future sliding back into place. It’s flawless, if I do say so myself.

Laura is quiet for so long that I start to wonder if she’s following my rambling or if I’ve lost her completely. Her hands are curled around the envelope in her lap, her nails pressing crescents into the thick paper. The wind lifts a few strands of her hair across her face, and she doesn’t brush them away. She simply stares at the dust-ridden windows behind me, her eyes unfocused and breathing too shallow. For a moment, I wonder what she’s picturing in the stained glass.

A new city, a new life where no one knows she’s the freshman with no friends, no prospects, and no real chance of surviving Hollowbrook long enough to become someone worth remembering. Or maybe she’s picturing the alternative. Her name is becoming all everyone talks about. Her face on all campus feeds, students who didn’t even know her crying over her disappearance. She’ll be lowkey famous, if that’s important to her. Eventually, her eyes drift back to mine.

“You’re insane,” she whispers.

“Yes,” I reply immediately. There’s no point denying it. They say love makes you crazy, but I disagree. Love has made me fucking psychotic. “But you’re still listening.”

“My family will look for me,” Laura counters, and I raise my brow further.

“Will they? That uncle you have who hasn’t seen you since you were six? Or the woman who fostered more kids than she could keep track of to fund her gambling habits?” Again, people really should censor what they put on social media. Everyone’s lives are spread out in posts and photos, just waiting for someone to pay close enough attention.

Sucking in a breath, Laura flinches as if I’ve struck her, and a trickle of guilt worms its way through me. Not enough to stop, but just enough to remind me I still have a conscience somewhere beneath all this bitter jealousy. Laura isn’t nothing. She isn’t a pawn I can push and place for my personal gain. She isn’t a young woman I can convince myself I’m saving, just because I’ve handed her money and a clean exit. Although she is still sitting here, considering my offer. She knows as well as I do that Hollowbrook is a ticking bomb, waiting for her to fall short and cause the detonation. I got to her before the academy did. That’s all.

The bell in the distance rings, a five-minute warning ahead of first period, but neither of us moves. Across campus, students will be going about their usual morning business, swapping gossip and remaining oblivious to the poison leaking through the walls. Behind me, the old music block groans as wind slips through cracked window frames. Shoving my hands into my pockets, I jerk my chin towards the money packet.

“If you’re interested, meet me back here at the end of classes today. If not, keep the money and forget this conversation happened.”