Brutal Precious Page 48

“Right. Um. Thankyoubye.”

I fast-walk away as quick as I can. I run into the glass door of my dorm and denounce the devil loudly, rubbing my sore forehead.

“Boy, you really suck at this being subtle stuff,” Charlie says behind me. I hide behind a pillar.

“Go away,” I hiss. “Shoo!”

“Do you have bipolar disorder or multiple personality disorder or something? Because you’re usually a lot chattier than this.”

“No, but I do get a headache when people say too many dumb things to me all at once.”

“You know, thanks to you, we didn’t get as much info as we could’ve outta Brittany. You seduced Jack away and sort of ruined our entire plan. We were gonna have her plant a bug on Will’s computer. Now we gotta do it the hard way.”

“What’s the hard way?”

“Sneak in. Ugh. I hate sneaking.”

“You were pretty shitty at it in the forest,” I agree.

“I was chasing you.”

“Well, it didn’t feel like a chase, that’s how sucky you were.”

“You screamed.”

“We all make mistakes sometimes.”

He rolls his eyes, and I stamp my foot.

“Look, it’s great you are here, and doing things like breathing, but I really must go.”

I take the stairs two at a time, leaving him behind to ponder his life mistake of ever speaking to me. I open the paper bag in my room, the keylogger a flat black plastic bit no bigger than my thumbnail.

“Is that a piece of poop?”

I whirl around and hide the keylogger in between my fingers. Yvette is sitting on her bed, painting her nails their usual cheery death-vampire black.

“It’s a bargaining chip for my soul,” I say. “I’m playing a high stakes game against Satan! It’s actually kind of invigorating. Do you wanna help?”

Yvette shoots me a doubting look. “Like, horns and red skin and big scary fork Satan?”

“Sort of. Think more hair and less pointy bits but exactly the same level of evil.”

“So, a guy.”

“Yup. I gotta get in his room and plant something in it, but I don’t wanna get trapped. Because he will trap me in there if he can help it, since he enjoys watching me squirm.”

“Fucking sadist,” Yvette spits. “Okay, so you go in there, and I bust you out. Right?”

“Subtlety.”

“What does that mean?” She wrinkles her nose.

“It means instead of busting down his door and alerting him to the fact I’ve planned this and am messing with his shit, you gotta make a distraction.”

“Who’s making a distraction?” Diana asks as she walks in. “And can I help?”

“You’re hired,” I point at her. Yvette fills her in as I dig in my closet for an appropriate battle outfit. Something cute, but not too cute. I want to remind him of what he ruined, distract him with his own ‘triumphs’ long enough to blind him a bit. I pick dark skinny jeans and a tight shirt, even though it makes me sick to my stomach to think of baring any of my curves in front of him. This is for Jack. This is so he doesn’t end up in jail.

“We could pull the fire alarm,” Diana says. “The boy’s dorm will empty fairly quickly, and I doubt even someone like this guy will want to stick around with that siren in his ear.”

“Perfect. God, you’re a genius. My girlfriend is a genius,” Yvette kisses her on the cheek. Diana blushes.

“Oh, stop.”

Yvette goes over to the window and opens it, yelling.

“MY GIRLFRIEND IS A GENIUS!”

My mouth is a happy open ‘o’ as I look at Diana, whose blush is now frozen on her shocked face. It’s a bold move full of courage and love, and it’s so different from the Yvette I know, who whispered her secret to me from over a pillow months ago. Diana gets up and they start kissing, and I clear my throat only when I see bits of tongue.

“Ahem! Payback Brigade, attention!”

They both laugh, trying to separate and turn towards me in a salute all at once, but they bump noses and legs and then we’re all laughing on the floor, and I know without a shred of doubt I’ll be alright.

No matter what happens after tonight, I’ll be okay.

Yvette and Diana agree to pull the fire alarm exactly seven minutes after I go into the dorm. That gives me two minutes to get up the stairs, and five minutes to chat Will up enough to distract him and plant the keylog. But if I f**k up –

I shake my head. No f**king up! Not on the menu. Not now, now ever. Never was. Fucking up is the fish sticks of the Life Options restaurant menu – nobody orders it, and nobody likes it. And if you do order it, it was an accident and you regret ever living.

I rush up the stairs and forcefully catch my breath outside Will’s room. I smooth my hair and try to look like I didn’t just run straight up three flights. My hands are shaking. I feel like I’m going to puke.

And then my cellphone goes off.

I scrabble to answer it before it alerts Will.

“Hello?” I whisper, moving away from the door.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Jack snarls, sounding as though he’s walking very quickly. “Get out of there, right now.”

“Don’t come here,” I demand. “I’m serious, Jack. Stay away. How did you even -”

“Charlie told me you were acting strange. Isis, you can’t go in there with him. You need to stay the hell out of this. It’s my job! Not yours! You could get hurt!”

“It’s worth it,” I say. “If I do this, you’ll be okay. So. Just let me do it. Please.”

“No! No, I’m coming to get you –”

“Jack,” I hiss with all the force I can muster. “You ran away after Sophia’s funeral because you needed to. I need to go in there now. Alone. It’s the same.”

Jack’s silent, then lets out a feral snarl of frustration. “No.”

“Yes.”

“No, Isis, please no.”

“He won’t hurt me this time.”

“You don’t know that!”

“I don’t. You’re right. I don’t know anything. I don’t know if the sun will rise tomorrow, or if I’ll contract some horrible disease or get hit by a car, or if Will might hurt me. I don’t know where I’ll be in three years, and I sure as hell dunno where I’ll be in ten. I don’t know if Game of Thrones will ever be finished! I don’t know if anyone I love will die soon, and I don’t know if a meteor is gonna come down and smite us all into ash. I don’t know if the world will spin off its axis and hurl into space and we’ll slowly freeze. I don’t know if I’ll have eggs tomorrow for breakfast or not.” I laugh. “But I do know I love you. That’s….that’s really the only thing I do know.”

“Isis –”

“Please, Jack. Let me do this. I’ll come back in one piece. I promise.”

“You promise,” he says, his voice hopeless and small and steely.

“I promise, idiot.”

“I love you,” He says. “God, I f**king love you.”

Jack hangs up first. I hang up last, and face the door at the very last. Except there’s no door. There’s only the chest of Will Cavanaugh in front of my face. I back up quickly, and he chuckles.

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