Chapter 17: Countdown
978 Words
The air in Louis's dorm room was thick, a hazy gray curtain of peppermint-scented smoke from the hubbly-bolly sitting on the center table. It was a suffocating, sweet smell that usually helped me turn my brain off, but today, it felt like it was clogging my lungs. The low hum of a lo-fi beat played from a Bluetooth speaker, vibrating against the cramped, poster-plastered walls.
Jax was slumped in a beanbag, eyes half-closed, looking like he'd been melted into the fabric. Theo leaned against the desk, his thumb mindlessly scrolling through his phone with a predatory smirk that usually meant he'd found someone's embarrassing social media post to exploit.
"Did you see the invite for the Pharmacy faculty bash?" Louis asked, leaning back in his swivel chair until it groaned under his weight. "Open bar until midnight, and they've hired a decent DJ for once."
"Pharmacy girls always go the hardest," Jax muttered, blowing a slow, perfect smoke ring that drifted toward the ceiling fan. "They spend all week memorizing formulas and staring into microscopes; by Friday, they need the release. It's a literal science."
We sat there for an hour, just boys being boys. We traded rumors about which lecturers were on the verge of a mental breakdown and which girls from the junior varsity cheer squad were newly single. It was the usual script-the safe, shallow surface-level talk that defined my social circle.
Maya's name didn't come up. I made sure of it. I kept my expressions neutral, my comments brief. Louis was a good guy, a solid friend in most contexts, but he talked. He was a social conduit; information flowed through him like water through a sieve. And a bet like this? This was a precision strike. It stayed in the family. It stayed between the three of us who knew what the crown actually cost.
When we finally stood up to head out, the cool afternoon air of the hallway felt like a splash of ice water against my skin. I hadn't realized how much the peppermint smoke had made me lightheaded until the door clicked shut behind us.
As soon as we were ten paces down the hall and Louis was safely out of earshot, Jax's relaxed, stoned posture vanished.
He straightened up, his eyes turning sharp and cold.
He checked the digital watch on his wrist, the blue glow reflecting in his pupils like a countdown.
"The clock is officially screaming, King," Jax said, his voice dropping into that low, dangerous register he used when the stakes were high. "Six days down. Last day. You have to bring us the proof, or hand over the keys to the truck for a week. And the crown? That stays on the table for whoever can actually handle a Law student without getting their heart dissected."
I felt a sharp flash of irritation, a heat rising in my neck, but I kept my face as smooth as glass. "The truck stays with me, Jax. And the crown isn't going anywhere. I'm heading to the Law wing now to set the stage. The performance is tonight."
"Then don't miss your cue," Theo added with a mocking salute.
I checked the schedule on my phone-the one I'd charmed out of Sienna with nothing more than a few well-timed smiles. Administrative Law. Room 302. I didn't just walk to the Law building; I stalked. Every step I took felt heavier, more deliberate.
I reached the lecture hall five minutes after the session had started. Most people, even the athletes, would have slunk in through the back door, hunched over, hoping the lecturer wouldn't notice their tardiness.
Not me.
I needed the entrance to be part of the story. I pushed the heavy oak doors open with both hands, the loud, rhythmic creak echoing through the tiered room like a gunshot.
Three hundred heads turned in unison. It was a sea of confusion and annoyance, but I only looked for one face. And there she was. Middle row, third seat in. Maya.
She looked up from her laptop, her brow furrowed, her eyes widening behind her blue-light glasses. I didn't look at the lecturer. I didn't acknowledge the "Quiet Please" signs.
I looked directly at her. I gave her a slow, deliberate wink as I started down the stairs, my boots thudding against the carpeted steps.
"Excuse me, young man," the lecturer-a man who looked like he'd been carved out of a single piece of ancient, grumpy parchment-paused, his marker hovering over the whiteboard. "I don't believe I've seen you in this section before. Or this faculty. Are you in the right hall, or are you just exceptionally lost?"
I stopped at the end of Maya's row, leaning one hand on the desk. "I'm new, sir," I lied, my voice projecting with a practiced confidence that masked the hollow thumping in my chest. "Transferred in from the morning section. Still finding my way around the 'Administrative' part of my life. I hope I haven't missed the section on judicial discretion."
A few guys in the back who recognized me from the Lacrosse team muffled their chuckles into their sleeves. They knew I was a Business Economics major who wouldn't know a tort from a tarantula.
The lecturer squinted at me through thick bifocals, clearly deciding that I was too well-dressed and too composed to be a mere prankster.
"Very well. Find a seat and keep your 'discretion' to a minimum. We are discussing judicial reviews and the limits of executive power," he said, turning back to the board with a sigh.
I slid into the empty seat directly next to Maya. The air between us immediately charged with a static electricity that made the hairs on my arms stand up.
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