Goodday friends! It's such an exciting day because I'm debuting not only the cover for my new adult science fiction romance, THE CRIMSON HUNT, but also Chapter One!
Special thanks to all the bloggers who helped with the reveal!
Chapter One
“Hey, loser, would you keep it steady on
your end?” Piper said with a huff. “You’re wobbling more than a frat boy after
last call.”
I looked around my edge of
the couch with incredulous eyes, unable to believe her nerve. I shouldered most
of the weight. “Well, maybe if you put out that frickin’ cigarette and gave me
some help—”
“Hey, easy with the
attitude.” She continued to speak out the side of her mouth, the smoke cloud
curling from her lips. “You should be kissing my feet right now. If not for me,
we would have paid twice the amount he was asking for this damn thing.”
Her grin was smug as she
puffed on her cigarette, or as she liked to call, them “ciggies.” One week long
excursion in Europe last spring break that almost resulted in an arrest
involving a monkey and a pretty wigged out local and the girl thought she was cultured.
I waved my hand in front of me, deflecting the
vile fumes.
“You aren’t going to make
a habit of smoking those things in the house, right?” After two long years of
putting up with people sneaking smokes in the dorms, it would be nice to
finally have an option of whether or not I would die of second hand smoke.
Piper whipped around her
firecracker-red bob like I just asked her to give me her soul for safekeeping.
“So we’re establishing
house rules, now, are we?” she asked. “How about this?” She set down her end of
the couch, forcing me to drop mine. She made a sloppy Scout’s Honor sign with
her fingers—as if I’d ever believe she’d been a Girl Scout. “I promise not to
smoke in the house, if you promise not to have a stick up your ass the entire
time we’re living together.”
The girl really was as
sweet as sugar. “Well, since we’re creating terms, how about you abide by one
of my own? I promise not to have a stick up my ass, if you promise not to bring
a new guy into the house every other night…or
if you so choose to do so, at least grant me the common courtesy of playing your
music loud enough so I don’t have to listen to all the moaning and groaning.”
I held out my hand for her
to shake. She wasn’t the only one who was good at this game.
She propped her hands on
her hips and tapped her foot, looking to the sky while she considered my terms.
“Touché, my friend. You
got yourself a deal.” She shook my hand with a smile.
I didn’t know how we did
it, but we managed to get the blasted thing all the way up our creaky,
splintered front stoop and into the living room without killing ourselves. And
we managed to save the fifty bucks it would have cost to hire a moving service.
Although I suspected the only reason Piper suggested calling movers was so she
could sit in a lawn chair in her bikini and sip lemonade while staring at their
asses. It was the middle of August, but a silly thing such as Mother Nature’s
weather couldn’t stop the girl from a golden opportunity when one presented
itself.
“Thank God!” Piper
collapsed on the couch, sending a cloud of dust into the air. She waved a hand
in front of her face to clear the particles from her vision. “I guess we can
get a slipcover or something.”
She put her hands behind
her head, daring to lean back onto the leisure item.
I’m so not going to comment on that right now. I joined her, leaning my head on her shoulder as I
admired our hard work. The room really did open up once everything was inside.
When we first leased this house from Campus Rentals, it hadn’t been much to
look at; now, it almost felt like home. Sure, none of the furniture matched,
the paint was chipping off the walls, and the place smelled a little of stale
beer, but the house was ours.
I took in a deep breath,
but the beer smell and dust caused me to exhale mid-breath, sending my body
into a coughing fit.
Piper raised her eyebrows
and crossed her long, slender legs. Her stylish, black combat boots made a
heavy thump as they hit the coffee table. “Say no to drugs, my friend.”
She laughed and put her
cigarette out on the arm of the couch. Seeing my outraged expression, she raised
her shoulders. “One more burn won’t make a difference.”
“Maybe, but it doesn’t
hurt to try and keep what we have as nice as possible. Unless you’re going to
pay for a new one?” It wasn’t every day local hobos had yard sales. We’d been
lucky to snag the one we got and I had to practically assault an old lady to get
it. She hadn’t left us alone until I offered her a coupon for a free tube of
pleasure gel I swiped from Piper. Speaking of, I hoped she didn’t make for her
purse anytime soon.
Piper sighed. “Whatever,
Ariel. Just loosen up. We got our own place now. Enjoy it and relax.”
She was right. I needed to
relax. Things could have been worse. I didn’t know what I’d do if I had to
spend another year in those damned dorm rooms. I was starting to feel like an
old schoolmarm the way I was telling people to shut the hell up on the daily. I
kicked off my sneakers and bent my toes forward into points. Feeling a pop in
my foot, I jolted into a standing position.
The searing pain when my
foot hit the floor made me cringe.
“Whoa. Are you okay?”
Piper asked, wide-eyed.
“My feet just realized I
had been standing all day, is all.” I tried to laugh it off. “I’m going to go
walk around the house a bit, maybe that will help.” I moved toward the
stairwell and stepped over Piper’s legs.
“Okay, then. Wait, where’s your necklace?” she
asked.
A rush of blood went straight to my head as I
reached my hand to my chest. I immediately searched the room, throwing pillows
and textbooks in my wake.
“Don’t panic, A. We’ll find it.”
Too late. I dove behind
Piper’s life size Superman statue, ripping the cords out of a box labeled Computer behind it. Piper worked on the
next box labeled Piper’s Crap.
I finished mangling my box
and rose up, hitting my head on Superman’s ass. “Ouch!”
I grabbed my head, and
made my way across the room on my hands and knees. “Piper, you need to get that
damn thing out of here. It’s
an eyesore!”
Normally, Piper would have
come back at me with a smart remark, but she knew the seriousness of the
situation. If she came at me with more than, “Ariel, you sure look beautiful
today,” I would have ripped her a new one. I prided myself on being pretty laid
back, but when I panicked, that was another story. It was best she kept her
distance, and she knew it.
Piper saw the rapid
approach of my psychotic break down as I continued my quest. She quickened her
pace to aid me, mangling another box labeled
School Crap. Another one of her brilliantly labeled boxes I was sure.
“When was the last time
you saw it?” she asked. “You know, I bet it might be out front. You brushed up
against the wall trying to—”
I ran outside and my
pupils reacted harshly to the rays of the sun. I covered my eyes with the back
of my hand. My vision masked, I tripped and hit the ground so hard my head felt
the impact. It didn’t matter. I was headed to ground to continue my search
anyway. The fall just made my trip that much easier.
My fingers scurried
through the brush on the walk. I took in a deep breath when I saw a glimmer in
the un-mowed hedge. It was a miracle I even saw it, with how tall the blades
were that day.
I heard Piper’s boots
beating the ground, and she joined me. I glanced up to see the pink material of
her bare midriff top blowing in the wind.
She bent down, holding her
knees at my level. “See, there it is. You had no reason to panic. Ariel, you’re
such a spaz sometimes.”
I barely heard her, still
in full panic mode.
She placed her hand on my
shoulder. “That old thing really means a lot to you, doesn’t it?”
I nodded, closing my eyes
as I gripped the octagonal silver emblem. I slid my thumb across the cool
moonstone mounted in the center as I continued to calm down. Opening my eyes, I witnessed the swirl of blue inside the stone which sparkled from the few rays
of sunshine that made it through the maple canopy. The rounded, eight-point
silver mounting still took my breath away with its incandescent shine. I could
feel them. I could feel their arms around me again. Relief set in as I pushed
myself to my knees. My fingers studied the clasp, analyzing the problem.
Piper waved her hand in
front of my face. “Hey, are you okay? Earth to Ariel!”
I ran my hand through my
hair. “I’m fine,” I assured her, having finally regained the mental capacity to
speak. “The stupid clasp broke.”
“Hmm. Well you probably
shouldn’t wear it again…you know, until you can get it fixed. You don’t want to make things worse by losing it."
As much as I wished she
wasn’t, she was right.
“Yeah. I guess I’ll keep
it in my drawer until I can get it fixed.” The necklace was better there than
me trying to play doctor on it with my nail tweezers.
My heartbeat still descended
from the event as walked back inside the old cream-colored house. I climbed the
staircase to the second floor and pushed open the first door on the right. My
door. I walked toward my unfinished armoire and opened the drawer. My hand felt
for the familiar wood of the ornate box the necklace never spent its time in,
since I never took it off. I carefully set my treasure inside, making sure to
sit the box upright before I closed the drawer
I collapsed on my bed, and
ran my fingers through my long, black hair. I caught a couple of tangles; probably
time for a haircut. The crisp smell of leaves blew in on a gust of wind through
the window, reminding me of why I chose to attend college in the Midwest. In
Southern California, there had been only two seasons—hot and swamp-ass hot. But
here, there was actually a fall, with brightly-colored leaves and cool breezes.
I was relieved to be here, in more ways than one.
With a sigh, I turned my
head to the right, taking in the assortment of moving boxes that awaited me. I
didn’t own much, so it wouldn’t be too hard to get my things put away. I forced
myself to get up and get to work.
I did all the necessary housekeeping by
putting up posters of famous paintings by artists I could only dream of one day
being half as good as, and filling my drawers with clothes. I placed my alarm
clock up on the nightstand, and after I unloaded the last box, I put the
finishing touches on the room by setting up my easels and paints next to the
window. I was looking forward to capturing the beauty of the ever-changing
trees and various tones of the fall sky. This was by far my favorite season for
painting. There was just so much inspiration everywhere.
“A! The mail carrier is
here,” Piper called in her raspy voice. “Come down!”
I didn’t, for the life of
me, understand the urgency of the mail’s arrival—unless the carrier was a hot
Italian wearing a Speedo, here to invite us to a pool party. Checking the time
on my alarm clock, I realized I’d been up here for nearly two hours. I guessed
I’d lost track of time trying to get my room in order.
I broke down my empty
boxes and dragged them downstairs—might as well have been efficient and saved myself
a trip.
I threw down my boxes when
I made it to the door. “What’s the big deal?” I asked, noticing the lack of Speedo
of the mailman—and thank God for that. The carrier was a fifty-something man
with a beer gut hanging over the trip of his pants and tufts of hair sticking
out of the neck of his shirt. I didn’t even want to think about the night
terrors I would’ve had if I witnessed that bit of unwanted visual information.
Piper signed for the
packages and kicked the door shut. “It’s our first pieces of mail in our new
house, chica!” she said, bouncing with excitement.
That was just how Piper
was, a free spirit, who got enjoyment out of the simplest things in life.
She thumbed through the
letters and packages, tossing the junk mail over her shoulder and to the floor
as she went.
I clenched my teeth as I
watched her create the mess. She’s your
best friend, Ariel. She’s your best friend.
Her fingers stilled when
she came across two identical, medium-sized letters. There was one for each of
us. “These look important,” she murmured, handing over the letter with my name
on it.
I didn’t see the point of
opening mine. Instead, I opted to let Piper enjoy the moment. She could tell me
what it said.
Her happy dance was
reminiscent of a child about to pee her pants as she tore open the envelope.
The excitement on her face abruptly faded, the diamond stud in her pointed nose
moving as she scrunched it up. “It‘s a room change for our first class,” she
said in disappointment.
“What?” I asked, tearing
my own letter open to confirm. This changeup may not have been a big deal to
most, but to me it was a nightmare! I had meticulously planned my schedule to
coordinate with my best friend, while perfectly weaving in work and
extra-curricular activities to maximize my time. “Why would they do that?”
“It looks like a
last-minute professor change. The new professor has a class in the new building
after ours, and it’s more convenient for him. What a prick.” She threw down the
letter and walked across the room. Plopping down on the couch, she sent another
cloud of dust into the air.
“Ugh! This messes up my
classes for the rest of the day. How am I supposed to make it clear across
campus in the ten minutes I have until my next class? I swear, these professors
don’t give a flying sack of crap about us, and to tell us a week before classes
start? What the heck is that about?”
Piper stood up from the
couch in a huff and grabbed my hand. She dragged me with extremely focused
determination toward the door.
I furrowed my brows,
fumbling to keep the letter in my other hand. “Where are we going?”
She didn’t say anything
and whipped me in front of her by the arm, now pushing me out the door.
“Piper, come on. What the
hell?”
She grabbed her purse and
my messenger bag-slash-purse from inside the house, threw them to me, then locked
the door. Turning around, she said two words, “Emergency Room.”
*****
A quick, but terribly
needed drive for my Piper-diagnosed neurosis later, I sat at our usual table
inside the Emergency Room, aka Demitasse Café. I was fully equipped with my
much-needed cup of Chai tea and even more needed peanut butter brownie on a
small plate in front of me.
I grabbed my tea cup,
blowing away the steam before taking a cautious sip. The familiar blend of
black tea, cinnamon, cardamom, and other exotic spices slid over my tongue. The
warm, rich Chai went a small way toward soothing my racing mind. Piper should
seriously debate changing her major to something within the health field. The
girl had a knack for knowing what to do to cure a spaz fit. “It’s almost like
they get an extra bonus in their salaries if they can manage to make our lives
just that much more miserable.”
Piper let out a long sigh,
scraping at the last bit of coffee grounds from the bottom of her cup. “Well,
it is what it is, A. We’ve just got to figure out what to do about it.”
What were we going to do?
Out of habit, my hand went to where my moonstone necklace usually rested. With
the jewelry’s long chain, that location was at the midpoint of my waist. My
fingers came up empty, reminding me the keepsake was no longer there to bring
me comfort.
Piper, eyeing my motion
over her clinking, grabbed my hand. “It’s okay, A. We’ll get it fixed. Why
don’t you try searching for some options for our schedule? That’ll take you
mind off things.” She smiled.
When Piper wasn’t wrapped
up in the chaos of life, she always knew just what to say to ease my anxious
tendencies.
Taking her advice, I
whipped out my laptop from my messenger bag and attempted to do a little damage
control. The familiar sounds of clicking and the whir of a tired computer fan
filled the air with its music. The stupid thing booted up about as fast as it
took the Egyptians to build the pyramids.
That was one bad thing
about being on my own: having to be completely reliant on financial aid and the
meager wages I made as a cashier at an old second-hand clothing store. Not that
I got many hours since the place was always dead, but it helped. Between my
school expenses, rent, and gas, there never seemed to be much left over for
keeping up with the latest technology. I guessed I could always borrow Piper’s
if mine decided to crap-out entirely. Her parents practically shipped her a new
one every other week. “A fine replacement for their love,” she said.
I clicked on my favorites icon and the familiar school
website materialized on my thirteen-inch screen. It really astounded me
sometimes how overly complicated and ridiculous the school website was. I mean,
did I really need to know about the elevator repair going on in the student
union, or an up-to-minute account of the weather, as if it was a play-by-play
of the World Series? Sometimes I felt like I needed a map and a decoder pin
just to figure out where the class registration button was on the damn
page.
Clicking around a bit, I found us some potential options. “Looks like there are a couple of spots open
in Earth Science 419.” The class wasn’t my first choice, but it was a general
requirement we both still needed.
Piper pulled out her polka
dot compact and applied her signature, deep purple eye shadow. Now didn’t seem
like the time for this, but Piper always believed she needed to be date-ready
for whomever would be vying for her attention that day. After a few seconds of
this, she met my annoyed gaze as I waited very impatiently for a
response.
“Who’s teaching it?” she
asked, cleaning up the lines of her lids.
“Looks like…Alfred Pondensky.”
She froze. “Ohhh, no, no, no. He smells like cheese
and he always gives me that look.”
Oh, God, really with this?
“What ‘look’ would that be?” I widened my eyes and opened my mouth, imitating
the faces she made in her mirror.
Piper smacked my arm,
hitting my elbow off the table. I tried to contain my smirked.
“Stop being a brat, and
you know what I mean. The look. The
one professors give you when they’re thinking about what they have at home and
realizing you’re something they’ll never, ever have. It’s like they’re
constipated, or something.” The way she crossed her eyes made her look like a
pregnant woman rounding her twentieth hour of labor.
I couldn’t really say I’d
ever seen that look. And envisioning
it on Pondensky, with his leathery skin and paper thin lips, made me just about
vomit what I’d eaten of my brownie.
“The female professors do
it, too,” she continued, pointing her eye-shadow wand at me. “Except, with
them, it’s because when they’re looking at you, they’re thinking about what
they looked at in the mirror that morning, and realizing you’re something
they’ll never be again. That’s assuming they ever looked like us in the first
place, a million years ago.”
She continued to apply her
makeup, indulging in a pouty face.
“Ugh, you’re so full of
crap, sometimes. As hard as it may be to believe, not everyone wants you, or
wants to be you.” I knew this wasn’t
really true, though. Piper was pretty much a bombshell. Standing at
five-foot-nine, she weighed maybe a
buck-twenty when soaking wet, and had a half-rock star, half-supermodel look
going on that made guys ready to drop their pants a second after laying eyes on
her. But I wasn’t about to tell her that. And she could at least be a little
more humble about her allure around those of us who weren’t so fortunate.
I brushed off her comment
and continued my research. “How about Astronomy 395 with Helen Wright?”
“I’m not really into those
signs and stuff. I believe people should just live their lives and not be bound
by those kinds of generic labels.” She put away her compact, giving me her full
attention.
I forced myself to swallow
my laughter as I clicked out of the class and into another one. “I guess that
would be a no, then, and I do believe you were referring to astrology, not astronomy. You know? The
study of the universe?” Piper wasn’t the brightest bulb in the box, and boy did
I get a laugh at her expense sometimes.
Piper frowned as she
analyzed my statement, then shrugged.
“Whatever. Guys don’t care
how smart a girl is when she has other, more…attractive qualities.” She batted her eyelashes, her grin slyer
than a fox.
I rolled my eyes. She was
referring to sex, of course. She always was. We were in college, I got
that, but the girl was seriously obsessed with men—several at a time half the
time. I was no angel, by any means—again, we were in college—but at least I
could safely say my few notches had
been while in committed relationships. I never believed that kind of thing
should be jumped into lightly, especially if there weren’t any real feelings
involved. But Piper was a big girl. To each her own, I guessed.
Piper grabbed her cup and
stood. “Okay, Miss Prude, I’m going to get a refill. Do you want anything?”
I ignored her jab—voicing
my irritation would only make it worse. “No, I’m good.”
She shrugged and exited
toward the counter.
I continued my search, but
it was becoming increasingly apparent that there just weren’t any other options
if we wanted to stay together. I guessed Piper would just have to put up with Pondensky’s
looks.”
A familiar smell invaded
my nostrils, accompanied by an obnoxious clacking of heels.
“Well, well, well…If it isn’t Ariel Richmond,”
a simpering voice said.
Ah, now I recognized the
smell…eau de bitch.
I snapped my laptop closed
and forced myself to look up at my nemesis. There she stood, with her Louis
Vuitton bag on her shoulder: string bean lips, short, panty-revealing dress,
and skinny frame with so many bones exposed one would have thought she was a
walking advertisement for anorexia. Who knew so much evil could be jam-packed
under makeup?
Sitting straight up, I
spoke to her in the nicest voice I could muster – which wasn’t very nice at
all, but really, trying to be civil to the inhuman seemed like a pointless
venture.
“Hi, Lila. How goes it?”
Lila lowered herself onto
a seat at our table and crossed her freshly Naired legs, making sure I saw the Fendi label stamped on
the bottom of her shoe.
“Oh, nothing much. I just
came to get an espresso and maybe a scone, but judging by the spread you have
there, I’d guess they’re all cleaned out of edible baked goods today.”
Oh, wow, a jab at my
weight, weight I hadn’t even carried around since freshman year, thank you very
much. But the stuck up she-devil couldn’t resist reminding me about it—how original.
“Very nice, Lila. Did you
think that one up all by yourself, or did one of the professors who gives you special tutoring help out with your
creative genius?” A sick sense of pleasure filled me when I saw her jaw clench,
showing I’d struck a nerve. This was immature, perhaps, but I couldn’t help
myself. The girl drove me insane.
She pursed her lips, then schooled her
features, speaking in her annoying, squeaky voice. “Now, now…there’s no need to
get vicious. I just came over for some friendly banter.”
That was highly unlikely.
Lila Nix always had an ulterior
motive. She wouldn’t have thought to waste her precious air on the likes
of me, unless she had something cooked up in that puny brain of hers.
She pushed a loose strand
of her blonde locks behind her ear in annoyance, probably offended the hair had
the audacity to fall out of place. “Actually, I came to offer my
condolences about the upcoming art showcase.”
Ugh! The shrillness of her
voice made me want to take a two-by-four to my head. Wait…what about the
showcase?
“Condolences for what?” I
asked stiffly, trying not to show her how much I was freaking out inside. I
wanted to be in that show more than I wanted my next breath, and she knew it.
But they weren’t supposed to be picking students for another month or so! They
hadn’t changed their policy, had they? Oh, God, I hoped not.
Her smug grin widened.
“Well, nothing’s for sure, yet, but you may as well give up now. Professor
Frankton has been absolutely raving about my collection. She tutored me over
the summer, you know, helping me expand my work, and kept going on and on about
my promise. I practically have this one in the bag.”
I highly doubted that,
considering Professor Frankton had indicated on more than one occasion she
found Lila even more annoying than I did. Still, it wasn’t personality that
landed one in the upperclassmen showcase, it was talent. And as much as I hated
to admit it, she actually had some. Then again, so did I, and I’d be damned if
her work was chosen over mine.
Her smile was full of faux
sympathy. “But no hard feelings, huh? There’s always next year, and I’d be totally
willing to mentor you, if you’d like.”
“Thanks for the offer,
but, to be perfectly honest, I’d rather lick a cow’s ass.”
She tsked. “Does every word that comes out of your mouth have to be
dripping with negativity?”
She rose to a stand,
grabbing her purse off the table in a huff. “And here I come to offer my help
on your pathetic work….”
And
the Oscar goes to….
“Speaking of negativity,
where’s the ever-so-pleasant Piper Lovelace? Usually I’m hit with an award
winning number of personal attacks by now.”
“Lika Dicks!” Piper said,
arriving right on cue. “How’s my favorite bimbo today?”
She put her coffee cup on
the table and took her seat, smiling up at Lila. “Actually, I’m glad you’re
here. I wanted to let you know that if you need any help with that student
organization booth during Welcome Week, I would be happy to be of service.”
I raised a brow. The only
service Piper had ever performed was community, and that had been for breaking
into the campus pool to go skinny-dipping with some guy. She had to be setting
Lila up for something.
Lila’s expression showed
she had the same suspicions. “Really?”
“Absolutely,” Piper said,
nodding.
She looked so genuine I
found myself wondering if she really was considering helping.
“Okay, great.” Lila took a
pen and notebook from her Louis Vuitton bag. “Which booth would you like to
help with? Are you interested in the Republican Leading Ladies or the Chicks of
Future America?”
Piper took a long sip of
her coffee as she seemed to give the question honest consideration. After putting down her cup casually, she added cream, then scraped her spoon on the bottom of
the cup with every stir. Taking a napkin off the table, she made sure every
drop of liquid was completely removed from her spoon. After this, she folded up the dirty
napkin and placed the utensil meticulously in its center.
If she went to all this
trouble, she must be brewing up something special. I drew in closer as to not
miss a beat.
“Oh, just put me wherever
you need me. Except your booth, of course, because The Blow Job Student Union
is a one-woman show, right? I truly admire how you’ve worked so tirelessly to
make sure every guy on campus benefits from your services. It’s all about
uniting the community, right?” Piper beamed.
I hacked a breath, almost
choking on the piece of brownie in my mouth. I couldn’t have been prouder to
have this girl as my best friend.
Lila snapped her notebook
shut and thrust out her chin. “Okay, I’m outta here.”
“Wait a sec, Lila,” I
said, trying to minimize my laughter. “Did you get the letter about our
schedule change?” One unfortunate thing about being an art major alongside Lila
Nix…we shared the same classes pretty often. We both happened to be buying our
Bio books at the same time last week and were rudely awakened to yet another
schedule similarity.
She glowered down at me.
“I did. What of it?”
“Are you staying in Bio?”
“I don’t see how that
concerns you, but I’m taking a class with Pondensky, instead.” She spun around,
her platinum extensions whirling as she left. Her black and tan checkered scarf
barely cleared the door as she exited.
Piper laughed into her
coffee, then looked at me expectantly. “Come on, say it.”
I may have made it a point
not to stroke her already huge ego, but I was woman enough to give credit where
credit was due.
“You are a rock star.” I
gave her a light round of applause. “You had me going there for a second. I
honestly couldn’t tell if you were being serious or not.”
Piper made a face. “Me at
Welcome Week? They should be so lucky.” She looked at the door Lila just exited
through. “You know, I should have a t-shirt made for her: The Blow Job Student
Union – A Plastic Army of One.”
I laughed. “You do that,
and I’ll deliver it personally.” I shook her hand.
“It’s a deal. So about our
schedule….”
“I think we’ve already got
the answer to that. We’re staying in Bio.” Sure, I’d have haul ass across
campus to make it to my next lecture every day, but the trek was worth it to
avoid Lila Nix.
“Works for me.” Piper
scratched her chin. “Hmm, I wonder where I can get a t-shirt made….”
I was about to suggest the
campus print show, but I was distracted by a sudden prickling sensation I felt
on the back of my scalp. I rubbed the back of my head and turned to scan the
café, but nothing struck me as out of the ordinary. Shrugging it off, I tried
to focus on what Piper was saying, but the feeling that we were just being
watched wouldn’t go away.
Copyright © 2012 by Victoria H. Smith. All rights
reserved.
