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In My Dreams I Hold a Knife(19)

Author:Ashley Winstead

“Meaning?” Heather asked.

“Meaning it’s a rolling beach, palm trees, sand, and everything. They were planning to ride it in bathing suits.”

“It’s October,” I said.

“Yeah, well, clearly they’ll do anything to win. Point is, we’ll look pretty stupid riding in sweaters.”

“Shit. Well. Thank God we’ve been working out all semester.” Frankie looked around at us and frowned. “What? Why are you all looking at me like that?”

Coop patted Frankie’s shoulder. “It’s sweet how your mind works.”

“As soon as they realize their float’s missing, Chapman will know we took it,” Jack said. “We need to hide it somewhere they won’t find it before the parade starts. Let them panic, waste their time searching.”

“They won’t dream we had the balls to enter it,” Heather said. “But we should get to the stadium early anyway. Be out in the middle of the parade before they even realize.”

Coop bit his lip. “I know a place we can hide it. Old abandoned field a few blocks away. Pretty shady, but they won’t think of it. I can guarantee.”

Caro snorted. “How can you do that?”

He only shrugged. “I know which Duquette students know about it, and which don’t.”

“Whatever. Coop’s creepy field works for me,” Heather said.

“Okay, then.” Jack slung an arm over Caro’s shoulder. “Text us when you have the goods and we’ll put this plan into action.”

***

We skidded into the near-empty parking lot outside the basketball stadium as soon as the cheerleaders moved aside the orange cones, signaling the parade was moments from starting and floats should line up.

Heather scanned the parking lot as we bumped along. “Excellent. No Chapman Hall spies.” A smile curved her lips. “Probably still pulling their hair out, running around campus.”

We were early enough that there was only the grand marshal’s float ahead of us, which by tradition was always first, and always filled with rowdy football players. After a few minutes of tense waiting, watching every float that drove into the parking lot behind us, music swelled from the other side of the stadium. A voice boomed over the loudspeakers, saying something I couldn’t quite make out, but it sounded rousing. Suddenly the cop directing parade traffic straightened to attention. He pointed at the grand marshal’s float, then looked at us and waved us forward.

It was too late to turn back now. Before today, I’d never imagined committing grand theft auto, then flaunting it for the world to see. Now here I stood atop a stolen float, shivering in—of all things—a black bikini, about to reveal myself to the entire student body and the alumni. And all I could think about was whether the cops serving as parade organizers would be gentle when the jig was up, and they wrestled me down.

What price, glory?

Mint nodded at Jack in the driver’s seat, who gave him a thumbs-up, and then we were puttering forward, out from behind the cover of the basketball stadium and onto the parade route.

Caro squeezed my hand. “This better be worth it.”

I glanced at her. Caro had sacrificed more than anyone. “How long did it take you to get the keys from Charles? I tried waiting up for you, but I fell asleep. How’d you end up doing it?”

Caro’s cheeks flamed. “It took a long time,” she mumbled. “And never mind how.”

Strange—

“Wave, idiots!” Heather, who looked completely at home in her bright-yellow bikini, glared at us, waving enthusiastically at the crowd.

The crowd. Hundreds of people, lining both sides of the street as far as I could see. From the moment we rolled into view, I could see them pointing and laughing at us, the ridiculous college students dressed for the beach in the middle of a North Carolina fall.

“Do you hear that shouting?” Frankie flexed for the crowd. “They love us!”

And actually, he wasn’t wrong. Everyone I waved to grinned and waved back. Kids were cheering on Mint as he pretended to swim through the waves. The Chapman students had cleverly packed the back of the float with red and white confetti, and now Coop was tossing it, raining it down on everyone we passed, letting kids fight over handfuls. I’d even stopped feeling cold. The adrenaline heated my blood, making me forget the chill in the air as we zoomed down the street. Blackwell Tower, the end of the parade route, couldn’t be too far ahead.

We were actually pulling this off.

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