Page 17 of Keep Me Never
“Dang it!”
Taking a deep breath, I try not to stress. I park with four minutes to spare and then literally run for the lecture hall building. I make it with moments to spare, sighing in relief. Perfect, people will still be finding their seats.
I yank on the door and my body jerks with the force, the door not moving.
My eyes snap to the note taped to the outside.
Testing in progress.
“No…”No, no, no, there is an exam today!
Crap. How could I forget?
I run my hands over my hair and press my back against the building.
Great. Just freakinggreat.
Chase
The moment Professor Michaels locks the door, my shoulders fall.
Paige is late again.
Shaking my head, I get my pencil from my backpack, zipping it back up.
I was at the library at eight this morning, right after my morning workout, and I stayed there until about twenty minutes before class, having waited outside the building until the last period cleared, just in case.
Does she not really care about school or grades? I mean, technically she doesn’t need a degree to run her youth center. Is this all just fun and games for her?
Her dad left her money when he died—that’s how she said she bought her studio—so maybe she’s not worried about the thousands it costs to be here.
I shake my head, taking a deep breath when an entirely new wave of thoughts assaults me.
What if she was rushing here, and she got in an accident? She could be alone and hurt somewhere.
I tense, my pulse jumping and fingers twitching to pull my phone out and make sure she’s all right. She wouldn’t risk missing a test, even if I was thinking like a judgmental asshole five seconds ago.
The air leaves my lungs in frustration as Professor Michaels approaches my row, passing out the testing packets. He continues down the line, and I slip my phone out, pulling up the message thread that the girls created for our friend group a while ago.
Why haven’t I programmed her number in yet?
I find it, copy, and quickly go add it to my contacts.
“You have all of class period to finish today’s exam,” Professor Michaels’s voice booms, and I shove my phone between my legs. “When you are finished, please place the packets on my desk, your Scantrons in this basket, and the written portion in this one.” He motions to the setup he has near the board. “There will be no talking, no phones, and when you are done, I expect a silent retreat. There will be no retakes, so don’t rush and assume you will be awarded a second opportunity. You willnot.” His eyes scan over the class, pausing and narrowing on the seat beside me.
Usually, I’d say most professors don’t notice when students are missing, especially in large lecture classes of a hundred-plus students such as this one, but Paige has drawn attention to herself with her repeated late arrivals. Makes sense he would take note of her absence.
“Begin,” he says, and all that can be heard is the flipping of paper as people get right to it.
I do the same, but my knee won’t stop bouncing and my mind continues to race.
She’s fine. This is pretty much normal, her being late; only today she won’t be able to slip in.
The doors are locked.
You won’t know if she’s all right if you don’t ask.
I swallow and force myself to focus.
