Now Olivia rolls her eyes. “Whatever.” She sits up straighter, leaning over to reach inside her backpack on the floor and pulling out a key ring with about five keys on it, including her car keys. She stands up, adjusting all her layers of clothing. “I’ll be right back.”
“Uh-uh,” Delilah says, popping up from her chair. “I’m coming with you.”
“What? Why?” Olivia asks, brows pinched together in confusion.
“Because I want to see what her evil lair looks like.”
“Dee,” Olivia groans, exasperated. “No.”
“Come on,” Delilah pleads, mustering up her best puppy dog pout.
“Forget it.” Olivia sighs, sitting back down. “I shouldn’t be going into her office when she’s not there anyway.”
“Bull. I know that’s code for you’re just going to sneak off to her office later without me,” Delilah argues.
“No,” Olivia lies, her voice rising a few octaves higher. “I shouldn’t be going in there without permission. It’s rude.”
Delilah walks over to her best friend, somehow managing to sneakily and swiftly pluck the set of keys from her hand like a snake. “Well, then, what’s the purpose of giving you a key? And guess who’s not always polite,” Delilah says menacingly, smirking as she takes off down the hall.
“Delilah!” Olivia scolds, hopping up from her seat and running down the hall after her.
Instinctively, I hop up and follow them, Rat Boy hot on my heels.
Icatch up just in time to see them fighting over the key at Professor Cooper’s door, the light from their flashlights dancing around the walls in the scuffle, but ultimately Delilah wins, shoving the key into the lock and twisting. She lets out a triumphant laugh when the door swings open, and she slips inside Professor Cooper’s office. Olivia shakes her head with exasperation, following her inside.
“Whoa,” Delilah says, spinning around three hundred and sixty degrees in the middle of the office with her flashlight, observing. She takes in the white walls and light-gray accent furniture that includes a desk, couch, some chairs, and side tables. It’s minimal, modern; the only decorative aspects some throw pillows and succulent plants scattered around. “It’s a lot more zen than I expected.”
Olivia grumbles something under her breath, shouldering past Delilah to go behind Professor Cooper’s desk where she opens a drawer and pulls out a dark-gray blanket. “Here you go,” she says, locking her eyes with mine and offering the blanket to me, her voice surprisingly soft despite her clear irritation.
I shake my head, stepping closer and leaning my shoulder against the door frame, blocking Rat Boy, his beady little gaze burning into my back. “No, Finch, you take it. You need it more than I do.”
She frowns, shrugging off my jacket. “Then at least take your jacket back,” she argues.
“Uh-uh,” I argue back, pushing off the door frame to step inside the office.
Rat Boy pushes his way in behind me. “Why don’t you just go back to your dorm? I’m sure you have extra layers there,” he comments, jaw and voice tight.
“Oh,” Olivia says in realization, her voice and eyes projecting disappointment. “I didn’t even think about it. Bronx, why don’t you go back to your dorm? Sleep in your own bed.”
I grab my jacket from her hands, throwing it back around her shoulders. “I’m not going anywhere. The dorms are out of power, too, and the beds are hard as rocks anyway. I’m not going to risk busting my ass for that. Plus, as I told you before, I playfootball. Not hockey,” I tease.
“Tonsil hockey, though,” Delilah muses under her breath, a smirk playing on her lips.
Even in the dim light that’s provided by flashlights, I can see Olivia’s cheeks burn bright red. I even feel my own cheeks heat up a little.
“We got the blanket, can we go back out to the lounge now?” Rat Boy spits, souring the mood, like he always does.
Delilah rolls her eyes. “You know the second we stepped away from that furniture people swooped in like hawks to steal it.”
Rat Boy grits his teeth. “Well, where are we supposed to sleep now? I’m not sleeping on top of a desk or on the floor, that’s for sure.”
“We could sleep here,” Delilah says, shrugging and plopping onto Professor Cooper’s couch.
Olivia’s expression turns wary. “I don’t know, Dee. Let me text her just to make sure it’s okay,” she says, slipping her phone out of her pocket.
“Youtexther?” Delilah blurts, baffled.
I see Olivia roll her eyes as she types out a text.
