“Fine, fine. Close the door after me. Four short knocks to get back in.”
“I know the drill.”
Lucy sat and waited for their return. It was nice to have a small moment of total aloneness. She thought back and tried to think if she had been fully alone since the first night at the school and she realized that she hadn’t. But after fifteen minutes, Lucy wondered what would be taking so long. She slid off her couch and walked over to the door and as she neared it, she realized that there were voices in the hall, hushed and whispering. Opening the door a fraction of an inch, Lucy spotted Grant and Salem standing in the small alcove outside the journalism lab. Salem’s foot was holding the door open and Grant held the keys. She could barely make out their conversation, but Lucy realized that they were oblivious to her and there was something about their body language and tone that suggested to Lucy she shouldn’t be privy to their dialogue. Yet she couldn’t turn away.
“How long will we stay here?” Salem had asked in a whisper. “I’m going crazy.”
“Is this the moment I remind you that this was your idea? To stay.”
“It can be my idea and I can still hate living like an animal in a cage.”
“A very big cage with a lot of peanut butter and jelly.”
“Are you going to make a joke of everything I say?” Salem complained, but she didn’t sound too angry with him.
Lucy’s heart quickened. And even though she knew that tone, that mischievousness, and the mechanics of Salem’s flirting, she couldn’t turn away. She wanted to interrupt them, shout at them to get back into hiding, but she knew that it would be pointless; Salem would only get more persistent and obvious.
“I’m diffusing,” was Grant’s reply and he must have smiled. Salem smiled back.
“You did a good job. It’s not that I don’t love Lucy,” Salem started and Lucy felt suddenly sick, she closed her eyes tightly, not wanting to hear what came next, but unable to shut the door and turn away, “but she can be so self-absorbed. It’ll be great if Ethan is alive…but this entire thing is not about her. We have big decisions to make.”
That attack wasn’t even true. But she just breathed deeply. It was so plotting, so transparently manipulative, an attempt to damage her character as a precaution against Grant ever liking her instead. She was not a threat to their blossoming love affair and she wanted to yell at them to just get back inside already. Lucy wasn’t even angry, she saw the gears working and knew that in many ways Salem wasn’t capable of stopping herself.
“Like what?” Grant asked and Lucy felt so sorry for him in that moment. He was so oblivious to her scheming.
Salem tucked her dark hair behind her ear and leaned in. “I like you,” she whispered. “So, now I’ve said it.”
From her vantage point, Lucy couldn’t see Grant’s face. He hadn’t moved away or said anything in return. Instead, it looked like he was frozen, waiting for her to continue, but Salem didn’t say anything else. She leaned in and kissed Grant gently on the mouth and then she coyly pulled back, biting the corner of her lip.
Lucy’s heart sank.
“I wasn’t expecting that,” Grant replied, his voice nervous. “I didn’t know…you felt that way.”
“Confining spaces,” Salem giggled.
Grant cleared his throat. “Or maybe you just realized I might be one of only a few teenage boys left in the world.”
Salem found the comment funny and she hit Grant playfully on the arm. “It’s not like that.”
“It could be a little like that.”
“Then you got me. You’re the last one left and I want you.”
Lucy grimaced at Salem’s boldness. She wished and hoped Grant could see through the shtick.
“You’re fun,” Grant mumbled. But Lucy wasn’t convinced that was a ringing-endorsement for dating. “I’m surprised…and wow, I guess. Just wow, Salem. Wow.”
She had heard enough. As she watched Salem position herself to go in for another kiss, she shut the door again without a sound and retreated backward.
It wasn’t too many minutes longer until they both entered, knocking to announce their impending arrival. Lucy searched them for sheepishness or embarrassment, but if they were feeling awkward about their interactions, they gave no indication. They didn’t act particularly starry-eyed either and if Lucy hadn’t spied on them, she would’ve never guessed that they had shared a kiss in the doorway. But she had seen them and now she wondered what happened next. Would they attempt a clandestine relationship right under her nose?
Salem hugged herself as she walked into the room and walked past Lucy to the corner, where she pulled up a blanket and fluffed it into a pillow. Grant closed the door shut and stood next to it.
“It’s raining outside,” he said. “You can hear it in the other room and it’s dripping through the wood over the skylight.”
Salem sniffed and looked to Lucy. “I’m sorry. For storming off. Sometimes it’s just too much…”
“We all feel that way,” Grant said and he smiled at them both. Lucy looked down to the ground.
“Maybe it’s asking too much,” Lucy started, “but maybe we shouldn’t be mad at each other for things that we have control over.” She had a speech planned in her head, a series of plans and procedures—places to go if they needed a break from their claustrophobic living situation, code words for expressing a desire for someone else to be quiet. But as she opened her mouth to continue, the long dormant intercom switched on with its telltale two-toned ding ding.
Lucy scrambled off the couch and Salem jumped up from the floor and Grant swung the door to the hallway open wide as they poured outward toward the speakers.
“Well, well, well,” Spencer’s raspy voice called outward. “It has come to my attention that a certain Lucy Larkspur King is a stowaway in my building.”
At the mention of her name, Lucy jumped and took a gulp of air. She reached out and grabbed Salem’s arm, her eyes wide.
“Naughty. Naughty,” Spencer continued, the slow drawl of his voice apparent as he clipped the end syllables.
None of them dared to speak. They held their collective breaths.
“If it were up to me, I’d shoot you on site for your insolence, and for wasting my precious air and resources. But it appears,” he paused, cleared in throat with a hack, “someone has purchased your freedom. And who am I to turn that offer down?”
Lucy finally let out a breath. Ethan. It was Ethan. The use of her middle name was a giveaway, a hint, because only her family and Salem knew of her flowery moniker. Her older brother had arrived at last. His text was not an accident and not irrelevant. She turned and hugged Salem and then turned to hug Grant, uncaring about any potential jealousies or complications.
“Don’t think I didn’t know about you,” Spencer spat. “And your little friends—” he trailed off. “You have five minutes, Lu-cy.” The breathy quality of her name on his tongue made her shiver. “And your friends, if they’re alive and still here, should come forward too. I offer up a onetime cease-fire and guarantee of safe passage. After that, should you choose to trespass…I will hunt you down like the dogs you are.”
Then they heard the rumble of the gates, rising up into the ceiling, beckoning them.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Salem shook her head. “What if it’s a trap?”
Grant walked back up to the hideout and opened the door and he ducked inside, leaving Salem and Lucy alone in the hallway.
“He knew my name, so it has to be Ethan…but you’re right. I wouldn’t put anything past him.” She and Salem locked eyes. And they both recognized each other’s fear and worry.
Salem nodded. “We have to go, I guess. He’s right. He knows we’re here now. Staying isn’t safe. It would only be a matter of time before he sniffed us out.”