“What?” Delilah asks.
“That!” I gesture wildly between the two.
“Oh.” Delilah smirks. “We’re staying,” she says simply.
I look to Olivia for confirmation. “You got all of that, just from that?” I ask, gesturing between the two of them yet again with my hand.
Olivia grins with gratification. “Yep.”
I look over at Delilah, who has a matching grin.
“Chicks,” I playfully mutter under my breath, causing them both to giggle.
Twenty minutes later we’re all walking out of lab. As promised, Tracy just handed out the quiz and briefly went over next week’s material, then bid us a good break.
Walking toward the main entrance of the science building, we all stop short when we see a line of people blocking the glass doors, looking outside intently.
“What the hell?” I mutter under my breath, walking ahead and squeezing through the small crowd to see what all the fuss is about. I look outside, not seeing much. “What’s going on?” I ask some random dude to my right.
“Ice is already coating the roads. A kid from our class is trying to make it out of the parking lot, but his truck isn’t going anywhere without fishtailing,” he says.
I snap my gaze to the parking lot and see an old, beat-up Chevy crawl across the parking lot, the brake lights glowing every few seconds, the truck sliding around, nearly hitting other cars in the lot. This kid is fucking insane. I can appreciate determination, but this is just straight up stupidity. There’s no way he or anyone else is making it out of here without hitting something or killing themselves.
“What’s going on?” Olivia asks, appearing behind me. She rests her hand on my shoulder, stabilizing herself as she stands on her tiptoes to look over me.
I crane my neck to look at her, my lips dangerously close to hers as I turn my head. I try my best to ignore her breath fanning across my face and her body brushing against mine. “Guy can’t make it out of the parking lot.”
Her face falls, eyes immediately searching the parking lot to find the truck fishtailing yet again. She sucks in a sharp breath when the truck nearly hits another car, and she quickly glances back at Delilah.
“What’s going on?” Delilah asks, immediately detecting her best friend’s distress.
Olivia falters, struggling to find the words to break it to Dee gently that she’s not going to be heading home for Thanksgiving to see her family anytime soon.
Delilah pushes her way past us to peek out the window herself, her shoulders immediately sagging when she sees the ice glimmering across the pavement. “No,” she whines, looking back at us with utter disappointment.
“I’m sorry, Dee,” Olivia says, her voice dripping with guilt.
Delilah turns back around to look outside, intently observing. “What do we do?”
Olivia glances up at me helplessly.
“There’s nothing much we can do,” I admit honestly. “It’s below freezing, and the ground temperatures aren’t going to get much warmer as we approach nightfall. It looks like everyone on campus is stuck until at least morning.”
A few more kids file into the atrium, no one really knowing what to do. Only a few brave souls attempt to leave the building, slipping and sliding around as they trudge to the dorms. Two guys I recognize from the hockey team are walking more effortlessly on the icy concrete than some others who are falling on their asses.
“What’s going on?” I look over my shoulder to spot Tracy all bundled up, bag tossed over her shoulder and keys in hand, looking like she’s ready to leave for the day.
“Roads are already covered in ice,” I inform her.
She frowns, fighting her way to the front of the doors to look outside for herself. “What the—they said it wasn’t supposed to hit for another couple of hours.”
“Right?” Delilah grumbles bitterly, arms tightly crossed over her chest as she looks outside with hatred.
Tracy does her best to try to compose herself. “All right, everyone, don’t panic,” she instructs, despite her voice rising a few octaves. “This should all blow over in a couple of hours,” she says optimistically, but I can tell deep down even she knows that isn’t true.
“We’re never getting out of here,” Rat Boy grumbles cynically, walking away and throwing himself down on one of the lounge chairs.
“No, no, that’s not true,” Tracy says, but her voice wavers a bit. “Everything is going to be okay. We just have to wait out the storm for a bit.”
