And They Were Roommates(57)

“What?” Xavier’s whole body jerks, and his foot catches on a book. He slips and falls, landing flat on his ass.

Or not.

I glance at everyone else’s collection of winces and frowns.

“What happened between you two?” I ask, although I’m unsure if I should.

Xavier readjusts his dark bangs so they split evenly across his forehead again. Robby helps him back to his feet. “The distance made me clingy, I guess,” he mutters. “Especially when Delilah’s so independent.”

“Even with the cockblockade in the way?”

“I used STRIP to constantly keep in touch with her. That didn’t scream independent. If I’d understood her, I would’ve let her live without me sometimes.”

Even if romance is illogical, Xavier seems like he learned from it. Unlike another person I know. I’m almost impressed.

“I’m glad she agreed to help us anyway,” Robby says. “We’re currently planning the delivery route. As of now, we’ll stuff the letters into two garbage bags and toss them over the checkout booth for Delilah to grab.”

I snort.

Everyone else blinks. Like that wasn’t a joke.

These are seriously the smartest guys on campus. “Right in front of the new security?”

“The cockblockade is too tall,” Xavier answers, pointing where the wall splits the academies on the campus map. His arm looks even more ripped in his tight knit sweater and next to Robby’s lanky arm. “It’s thirty feet. But the gate? Only twelve.”

“There’re no cameras,” Robby adds, “but it’s easier to be seen by instructors outside rather than in the seclusion of the equestrian center, which is why we’ve never done it this way. Unfortunately, we have no other choice now. We’ll need to distract the guard by splitting into teams. I’m on lookout with Xavier. As for tossing the bags, that’s on you and Jasper.”

“What?” Jasper and I say.

I expect to see my irritated expression on Jasper too, especially when we’ve worked hard at avoiding each other. Instead, though, he looks more uptight than anything else, his shoulders tense in his half-buttoned dress shirt.

Before I can process the reaction, Robby says, “Blaze is the vital piece. Our distraction.”

Blaze shoves his Ring of Ancestral Darkness in Robby’s face, then breaks into the butterfly gesture that he believes is a flame. “Only the Chief Magistrate of the Brotherhood of Ancestral Darkness could ever defeat—”

“Here’s a map.” Over Blaze’s shoulder, Robby hands me a smaller pamphlet version on the table. “You’re right that I don’t trust Blaze. He needs to be watched.”

“I’m talking!” Blaze shouts between us.

Robby clasps me and Jasper on the shoulders like he isn’t there. “That’s your other job, got it? Watch him. Especially with the way he’ll have to distract this guard.”

“Which will be?” I ask uneasily.

Robby grimaces in a way that makes my heart drop.



* * *



Thirty minutes before lights-out, the five of us make a break for the cockblockade.

By the time we reach the path that leads up to the checkout booth, the sun is already setting beyond the surrounding woods. We crouch behind a shrub by a lamppost, observing the alleged security guard inside, doing some sort of crossword puzzle on the desk.

“On three,” Robby whispers, his breath visible in the cold air. “Ready?”

Jasper and I trade a look. Tonight, we need to be partners no matter our feelings.

“One—” Robby starts.

Blaze lunges for the booth, his sneakers kicking up dust from the sheer speed. Once he’s almost there, he trips, falls, and face-plants on the ground. Grabbing his ankle, he wails to the treetops.

Robby worriedly reaches forward, but Xavier lowers his hand. Maybe Blaze’s execution was more extreme than planned, but this is what we wanted.

The guard scuttles outside. In the dull lamppost light, I barely make out her windbreaker that shouts SECURITY on the back. Same for her slightly confused but mostly concerned expression. No walkie-talkie on her hip. Just as we hoped with Valentine’s disdain for technology. “What are you doing out here?”

Blaze screeches again. “My ankle is … fragmented.”

“You need Health Services. Can you walk?”

Blaze rises on a shaking arm. “No…” He collapses again.

The guard pulls Blaze up by the waist, and they head toward the center of campus. Robby and Xavier split off to keep watch. Jasper and I snatch our bags of letters and race toward the cockblockade gate, but mine slips and hits the ground. A slew of letters falls out.

Jasper stops, his laugh as bubbly as always.

I shove my fists against my hips. “Focus, please?”

He kneels to help me fix the mess, but he’s still laughing under his breath. We shove a stack of letters back in at the same time, our fingers grazing, and my heart leaps.

“You all right?” Jasper asks, his words turning to fog between us.

It’s because we haven’t interacted in weeks. That’s all. “Yeah.”

The worried crease in Jasper’s brow doesn’t leave. He’s wearing a beige Valentine-branded sweater over his red dress shirt tonight—his number-one enamel pin still shimmering for all to see on the popped-out collar—and the lack of visible chest and collarbones strangely has me staring. Typically, he looks the way the Sexiest Poet of the Year should, but with this sweater up to his neck, he looks more charming and sweet.