DINO
Ishouldn’t be smoking, but fuck it. Life’s too short.
I give one last inhale and then stub out my cigarette and toss it into the rose bushes. Ironically, I’m in my old smoking haunt from when we went to school here. Feels fucking weird to be here and not have a teacher come charging around the halls after us. We grew up here, all of us—Lor, Jude, even fucking Finn.
Look at it now.
Rotting away and ready to be knocked down and replaced by some middle class housing community with gates and recycling bins, and management fucking companies.
Just like the first time I saw her, Viola enters the quad.
I smile when I see her. Was it the first time, or was it the second? No matter, she looks absolutely gorgeous as usual. She’s staring straight ahead as she walks, not seeing me since I’m hidden from view to the side. I go to call out to her when she stops in the middle and waits. A few seconds later, Pascal joins her wearing her coat and they walk quickly toward the gates of the school where the parking lot is.
As Viola turns down the pathway that leads to the lot, I see her violin case strapped to her shoulder. Except I know that case contains a crossbow.
Fucking hell. What is she up to now?
I have a split second to make a decision. Follow her and keep her out of trouble? Or go back and get Lor.
My curiosity wins and I run after the direction she went. The parking lot is quiet and a little dark when I get there. But then the lights to the Mustang blink on and it reverses toward me. I jump aside and bang on the roof.
The car stops and I stalk up to the driver side and yank open the door. “What the fuck, Viola! Where are you going?”
She glares at me. “Are you following me now?”
“I was smoking in the quad. I saw you leave.” I glance across the seat to where Pascal is strapped in. “Please tell me you’re going out to get ice cream.”
“We’re making the trade,” says Viola, flicking her eyes heavenward.
“Oh no you’re not.”
“It’s just a fake trade,” Pascal tells me with a smile.
“Where?” I ask Viola. As she tells me her plan, I shake my head at her. “This is the worst decision you’ve ever made. That’s not even a plan. It’s a stab in the dark.”
“Come with, or stay the fuck out of my way,” Viola says, also with a smile but not a nice one.
“Ah, for fuck’s sake,” I say, and open the rear door and get in.
The backseat is icy cold during the drive. Pascal catches me rubbing my hands to keep warm.
“Why is it so cold in here?” she asks.
“Probably because there are no rear or back windows anymore,” I say. The rear end is taped up with plastic sheeting. Dante had lots of it in his trunk for reasons I don’t care to know about.
Pascal turns a dial on the dash and heat blasts out of the rear facing fans toward me, making it a little less Baltic. “That better?” she asks, turning to look at me.
I give her a nod. “Much better, thank you.”
I shoot a look at Viola hoping to fucking God she has a better plan than to just storm the place because if anything happens to this girl, I’ll personally hold Viola responsible.
The parking lotnext to the church only has a couple of cars in it. Viola passes it by and turns down a darkened lane. She’s right to leave the Mustang farther away from the church, but the location she’s chosen gives me the creeps.
“No one knows this is here,” Viola says when I tell her as much. “And there’s a direct route from the church to this road.’
“How did you find this place anyway?” I ask her.
“Jude showed it to me once,” she says. She opens the car glove compartment and shoves a gun inside before closing it shut. “Just in case you need an extra one,” she says to me.