Staying Grounded [BXB]

Cornered

CRAIG:

"So this is where you've been hiding." Naz's voice at my back very nearly topples the precariously piled folders from my arms. "I've started to think you're avoiding us."

"Shit, man! Sneak attack much?" I stall for a moment to readjust my load, working up a smile before turning. "What —"

"Hey, Princess."

My smile never gets the chance to take. "The hell are you doing here?"

"Yeah, I know, right?" Behind Naz, Gary grins at me. He's idling by the Local History shelves, along the far end of the aisle, and the languid sweep of his gaze has my skin prickling. "What are the odds?"

Small.

Infinitesimally small.

Or so I'd thought. And the smug look on his vexing face says he knows it.

"You were missed at the pit last night," Naz fails to distract my attention, continuing to close in on me.

I'm stepping backwards, not realising it until my hip collides with the corner of a desk behind me.

Evading Gary hasn't been easy, considering he's infiltrated the majority of my classes. Still, I've succeeded for almost an entire week, and it's mostly thanks to this quiet spot I sought out in the deepest depths of the college library. Three of my five tutors have consented to my absence from their classrooms, for the short-term, on the condition my submitted work at each day's end reflects the merit of my private studies. I get time-stamped in by the Librarian first thing and time-stamped out whenever I leave, barely needing to speak to a single soul, and honestly, I've never felt so content anywhere else on these grounds. Of course, it was too good to last.

Catching my elbow, Naz attempts to steady me. "Whoa there, you feeling alright?"

"Peachy," I say, shirking him off.

Casual good humour shapes his expression as he pulls back just barely clear of my personal space. "What's your excuse, then?"

"What?"

"Scotty's New Ride celebration. Seriously, dude," a hand slaps my shoulder, "he was mighty damn pissed you didn't show."

I don't know Naz well enough to determine whether he's genuinely oblivious to the tension thickening the air here, or he simply couldn't care less about it.

But, either way, I don't have the patience to spare him. "Oh, right. That." I turn aside, off-loading my stack of work onto the desk and shaking out my arms. The severity of my grip had become painful. "As if he won't be hosting another inside of six months."

"Shame, though, Lawton," Gary refuses to be snubbed. "It was epic!" And my stomach sours as I realise that yet another of my safe zones has been breached. "Your boy, Scotty, is a fucking maniac."

Naz laughs. "The speed he hit Deadman's Hook, I swear, I've never come so close to shitting myself!"

"Pussy."

"Fuck off. You looked ready to cry."

Pulling a thick-spined book from the shelf beside him, Gary torpedoes it our way. "Wait until it's my turn to take the wheel," he taunts, snorting appreciatively as his missile completely bypasses Naz to strike my upper thigh — too close on bullseye to be a misfire.

Tongue firmly clamped behind pressed lips, careful not to react, my eyes flick beyond his bulk to the stairs and my sole route of escape. The invasion of this secluded den is one thing, only ever purposed as a temporary refuge. But, a little shy of turning seventeen, Gary has no license, never mind a car, and I had counted on the Pit being mine for some while longer.