Page 27 of Psync
His throat tightened and burned.
Breathe. Just focus on breathing, Eli. You can do this. You’ve been here before.
He fumbled in his pocket for the pill he’d put there for emergencies, but it was gone. It must have fallen out when he took out his wallet earlier.
He closed his eyes, leaned his head back, and tried to allow himself to fall into the rhythm of the ambient sound around him. Vendors closing up their trucks, students discussing where to go next, faint music from across the quad. He could do this. He was a pro.
For a time, he worked to lose himself in the soft sounds of nighttime and the not-so-soft sounds of humanity as it bustled around, cleaning up the fair.
When he opened his eyes again, his breathing was much steadier and no longer high in his chest.Good job, Eli. Well done.
Movement down the mostly empty aisle in front of him caught his attention. Even if it was too dark to recognize faces, Haruka’s outfit was distinctive enough to make out and his gait was impossible to mistake.
Haruka had gone back to the Tea and Calligraphy tent.
Eli watched as he spoke to someone in the tent for a time. It was too dark to tell what he was doing, but when Haruka finally turned to go, a flash of light from a passing car illuminated Kate’s face.
He’d been talking to the redhead with the cute mole.
Eli pulled himself off the ground and headed for his dorm. He was so done with this day.
He didn’t want to think about Haruka, or Nate, or anyone, so when his phone buzzed, he didn’t look. He just turned it off. He was a big boy and could take care of himself for the ten minutes it took to walk back to his room.
So what if his legs felt like rubber? So what if random noises in the dark caused him to jump? He was oversensitive right now. He knew how to deal with it. All he needed was a good night’s sleep, and he’d be fine.
:Fucking dammit.:
For once, Eli didn’t startle at the Voice. Instead, he couldn’t help but agree.
“Me too, Voice . . . me too.”
Chapter Eleven
Eli
Sunday was a sleepy day for Eli. All the excitement and stress of the past week caught up to him and said stay the fuck put. So, he did.
He didn’t even bother stirring from his bed until the sun was high in the sky and when he did, his head felt light and floaty, so while he did technically get up, Eli decided the bed was really the best place for him today. He got out for exactly as long as it took to use the bathroom and procure snacks from the tiny fridge he and Jace shared, then he got back in bed.
Jace had left already, or else Eli might have created a tent over his bed.
Actually, that wasn’t a bad idea—Jace or no.
He set to work, draping sheets around his bed. It was touch and go for a while, but eventually he chose against his classic Voltron sheets for a nice neutral blue. Besides, what if he tore the Voltron sheets while making the tent? Perish the thought.
By the time he was settled into his fortress with his laptop—not his phone, today was also a no-phone day, and he could deal with the repercussions of that later—Jace came back.
His roommate took one look at the new setup and smiled. “Is there room in there for two? Or do you want to be alone?”
“That depends on your feelings about Stargate SG-1.”
“Extremely pro. Scoot over.”
It was a good day. No one asked him about his feelings or treated him oddly. It was just junk food and 90s sci-fi until way too late in the night.
The next morning, something was terribly, terribly wrong. The worst noise Eli had ever heard was blaring through the room. It was like a dying whale giving birth to a minivan. He jolted up, causing his laptop, his roommate, and a pile of discarded snack wrappers to go flying.
“What the hell is that?”
