The Survivor - Cristin Harber Page 0,64

legs. “I’m okay.”

Mandy tapped the highlighter on the table, glancing out of the study room’s glass partitions. Dylan leaned against a pillar quilted with campus flyers, Greek life announcements, and work-study job openings. McNally tapped a pencil against her temple and ignored the three-ring binder open in front of her.

Not many students remained in the library. Those who did were spread among the silent reading tables, doing a much better job at studying than Mandy was.

“Actually.” Halle stood and stretched. “I have to go to the bathroom.”

“You’re sure?” Billy’s throat bobbed.

Mandy rolled her eyes. “Yeah, I think she knows if she has to go.”

“Right.” The overhead lights caught on Billy’s forehead as though the tiny room was too warm.

Soon as Halle left, Mandy would ask Billy what the hell was going on. Or, should she ask Halle after they wrapped up tonight? After pushing Mandy to take a chance on Billy, Halle had gotten weird. Then again, what did Mandy know about friends and dating?

Halle opened the study room door. “Everything will be fine.”

Mandy scowled. “I didn’t think we were that worried about mid-terms.”

“I’m not.” Halle snickered, then glided away as cool as the surge of fresh air that flowed into the tiny study room.

“She’s not,” Billy muttered as if he’d realized that mid-terms were about to throw him into the fire. If not mid-terms, then feelings for another woman?

Suspicion beat a slow drum roll at the back of Mandy’s skull. High school had been cruel, but she refused to fall back on assumptions based on those so-called friends. Whatever Billy’s problem, he’d made clear that his romantic interest was Mandy. She leaned across the table and scooted Halle’s notebook to the far end.

Billy straightened. “What are you doing?”

“What does it look like?” Mandy smoothed her platinum hair behind her ears, then caught her reflection in the glass. Heavy makeup. Angry clothes. The façade weighed her down like waterlogged Doc Martens, but it protected her in the same way. She could be bold. She would be. “I’m moving next to my boyfriend.”

Billy gripped the edge of the table and nodded. “Good.” He wiped at his brow, then patted Halle’s chair. “Sit next to me.”

She relocated her bag next to Billy’s. His legs bounced under the table. On top of the table, his stranglehold on his pencil threatened to break it in two.

“Are you okay?” she asked, telling herself everything was okay. He liked her—and if he didn’t, he wouldn’t dump her while studying for an exam.

The pencil snapped. Billy jumped. “Yeah. Fine.” He pushed the chair out and rummaged in his bag.

Mandy bit her lip. “If you need another pencil, I’ve got you.”

His pencil search took all of his attention, but without finding a new one, he zipped it shut and shoved it under the table again. “I have to go to the bathroom.”

Her eyebrow went up. Billy hustled out and let the door slam. Dylan straightened and looked her way, but she couldn’t read his expression.

Her gaze dropped to Billy’s backpack. A strange urge to snoop pushed Mandy out of her chair. She reached for his bag and hefted it onto the table. Its surprising weight made the back of her neck tingle. She pulled the bag open. Canisters and wires.

She froze and couldn’t scream. Movement blurred outside the glass room. Dylan and McNally appeared. But Mandy couldn’t run or even point.

Dylan ripped her from the backpack. “Damn it.”

McNally yanked Amanda over the table.

“Go, go,” Dylan bellowed. “Run.”

If her feet touched the ground, Mandy couldn’t remember. They ran until Dylan plowed them to the ground, a bulldozer protecting the peace. The explosion tore over their bodies. Thunder and fire rained. Her vision wouldn’t focus as the building shook.

McNally rolled from under Dylan but couldn’t stand. Mandy didn’t try to move. More pain might kill her.

“Sparkler?” Dylan labored. “Still with me?”

Sulfur and smoke burned her eyes. Blood seeped everywhere. Pain devoured her disjointed thoughts, but she whispered a groan. “Yeah.”

“We made it longer than anyone expected.” His breaths gurgled as the fire alarm blared. “Think—” The gurgles became an agonizing wheeze. “S’my time to go.”

Mandy couldn’t move, but she needed him to be okay. “Dylan?”

“Sparkler…it’s been an honor…”

“Dylan! No!” He wasn’t fighting. Her fingers found his body; Mandy clutched his clothes, trying to shake him. “Don’t leave me!”

“…and a privilege.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

Kiddo? Hagan got to his feet, unsure which had left him more surprised—the arrival of an elusive parent or the way Amanda pivoted toward the door, arm extended as though