Page 43 of Creeping Lily
My throat feels like it’s closing in on itself, my breaths cutting short and sharp. The urge to run hits me so hard I almost stumble. I can’t go back to that place. I won’t.
With a desperate burst of energy, I break into a sprint. My bag slides off my shoulder, the strap burning my arm before itdrops. Books spill across the path, the thud and flutter echoing behind me, but I don’t dare stop. The only thing that matters is reaching my dorm—four walls, a lock, and maybe the illusion of safety.
Maybe coming here was a mistake. Maybe I should’ve chosen a small community college closer to home, somewhere I didn’t have to measure every step or wonder what might be lurking a few paces behind me. Out here, the real world feels a lot bigger—and a lot crueler—than I imagined.
I stick to the path instead of cutting across the grassy knoll, even though it’s shorter. The knoll is darker, quieter. Too much space for someone to disappear into. Too much space for me to be cornered.
I’m almost to the main quad when I slam—full force—into something solid. My momentum rebounds, but strong arms close around me before I can fall. The impact knocks the breath from my lungs, and for one wild second, I’m trapped.
“Lily, hey. Lily, it’s me.”
Justin’s voice slices through the panic, pulling my gaze up to his face. Relief hits so hard it almost knocks me over again. My body collapses against him, the tension breaking, and I realize I’m shaking so badly I can barely stand.
“Hey, hey, hey,” he murmurs, voice low, his eyes searching my face. “What’s wrong?”
“Someone…” I suck in ragged gulps of air. “Someone was following me.”
Justin’s jaw tightens as he glances over my shoulder, scanning the dimming path behind me. His eyes narrow at something I can’t see. When he turns back, his tone is calm but clipped. “There’s no one there, Lily. Come on, I’ll walk you back.”
“I dropped my bag,” I say, the words tumbling out in a mix ofembarrassment and doubt. Maybe I imagined it. Maybe I’m overreacting.
We retrace my steps, finding my books scattered across the concrete. Justin crouches to gather them, his eyes still darting toward the shadows like he’s expecting something to move. I kneel beside him, handing over a paperback with a hand that won’t stop trembling.
“There was someone, Justin,” I insist, my voice low. I’m not sure if I’m trying to convince him… or myself.
He nods slowly, lips pressing together like he has something to say but decides against it. Slinging my bag over his shoulder, he takes my hand without asking, guiding me back toward my dorm.
“You shouldn’t be walking alone after dark.”
“It wasn’t dark,” I argue. “It just got dark while I was on my way back.”
His look says exactly what he thinks of that excuse. “You know what I mean.”
“School’s supposed to be safe,” I mutter. “I didn’t come here to be afraid of walking across campus at night.”
“Safe?” His voice hardens. “You’re surrounded by frat boys who think binge drinking is a sport. People do stupid things when they’re drunk.”
Don’t I know it.
I glance at him and find him studying me like I’m a puzzle he already knows the answer to. The weight of his stare slows my steps until I stop completely.
“What are you trying to tell me, Justin?”
He hesitates. Looks off toward the trees before letting out a slow, heavy sigh.
“You’re too pure for this place, Lily. Too good for this world. You might control your own actions, but you can’t control theirs. And that’s the scariest thing…” His gaze locks with mine, voice low and final. “You can’t stop a bad thing from happening. Not even when you see it coming.”
“He wouldn’t.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I know Trick.”
The siblings volley the words back and forth, their voices tight, like they’ve been arguing for hours instead of minutes. Ever since Justin found me sprinting across campus and walked me back to my dorm, they’ve been circling the same debate—whether or not I’m in danger, and if Trick could be behind it.
Bethany’s convinced he’s stalking me. Justin is just as certain that’s impossible, like Trick’s wired differently.
I’m not sure what kind of wiring it takes to stalk someone, but I doubt it’s the kind you’d find on a tidy blueprint. Whatever’s in that mind, it’s not straight lines and labeled circuits—it’s a tangled mess of crossed wires, sparking in the dark.
