Page 50 of Campus Crush
I peered through the branches and saw Harper get out of her car and walk toward the music house, violin case in one hand, a stack of sheet music in the other. She was wearing jeans and an oversized sweater, her hair pulled back in a messy bun. She looked tired, probably coming back from a late practice session.
“Perfect,” Drew whispered. “She’s going inside. Once the lights go out in her room, we’ll make our move.”
Gordy shifted uncomfortably beside me. “Drew, I’m not sure this is a good idea. What if someone sees us?”
“That’s why we’re doing it at night, genius,” Drew replied. “Besides, it’s harmless.”
I wouldn’t exactly call making someone late because they couldn’t get into their car in the morning “harmless,” but arguing with Drew when he was in this mood was pointless.
We watched as Harper entered the house, and a few minutes later, a light came on in a second-floor window.
“That’s her room,” Drew informed us. “Now we wait.”
Forty-five minutes later, I was seriously reconsidering my life choices. My legs had gone numb, I was pretty sure I’d been bitten by at least three different insects, and Drew was still glaring at Harper’s window with the intensity of a sniper waiting for his target.
“Why couldn’t we wait in our house instead of the bushes?”
“Because then you guys would find excuses not to help me.”
He was right about that.
“Maybe she’s not going to sleep,” I suggested. “Maybe she’s one of those people who studies until three in the morning.”
“She’ll sleep,” Drew said confidently. “She always turns her light off by midnight.”
I exchanged glances with Liam. “You’ve been tracking her sleep schedule?”
“Know thy enemy,” Drew replied without a hint of irony and keeping his gaze fixed on her window.
“Someone doth protest too much,” Gordy mumbled.
Drew whipped his gaze to Gordy. “What did you just say?”
“Hey! Her light went out,” Liam interrupted, saving Gordy from having to face off with Drew. Although I was in agreement with Gordy.
“It’s go time.”
Before any of us could protest further, Drew ran across the lawn toward the driveway where Harper’s small blue Honda was parked.
Like idiots, we followed him.
“I’m going to regret this,” I said.
“Get in line,” Gordy added.
Drew handed each of us a box of plastic wrap and then got started wrapping her car. We stared, watching him with dread.
“Hurry up,” he whispered, not really paying any attention to the fact that none of us had moved to help him yet.
“Drew—” I started.
“What are you doing to my car?”
We all froze. The voice had come from behind us, female and distinctly unamused. Slowly, we turned around.
Harper Tinsley stood there in sweatpants and a CFU Music Department hoodie, her hand on her hip, her brows arched in judgment, looking significantly less demonic than Drew had described. Mostly, she just looked tired and annoyed.
“Uh…” Drew eloquently responded.
