Vicious Boys by Nora Cobb

 

Chapter Twenty

Vicki

 

Saturday morning, I wait for Liam by the stairs leading down into the basement. This whole building creeps me out on the weekends. On the weekdays, you can’t walk in a straight line without bumping into the million kids packed in here. But on the weekends, every creak and knock echoes in the dimly lit hallways. Occasionally, some random person will work in a classroom to finish a project. But for the most part, you’re all alone.

 

Despite the craziness circling my life, the past few days have been productive, and I’m pleased with the results I’m getting. When I arrived at Redwood, I wanted to keep up with the talented students, and if possible, fit in. But now, I’ll be proud to show off my senior film projects around Hollywood once they’re finished. I did it. I’m the creative person I envisioned when I sent my application to Redwood.

 

Initially, I had to struggle to focus. But now, I have no problem since all of my relationships are busted and broken—no Silas, Chase, Dom, or Luna. I rarely see Theo. I never want to see Talia again. Even Dad is spending more time in San Francisco. I work from the minute I wake up until I drop my head on my pillow late at night. Filming has become a cure for loneliness.

 

I often catch myself staring off into space as I replay my last conversation with Chase or with Dom or Silas. Like editing a film, I try a different ending where I say or act differently, achieving a different outcome. No matter what happens in the future, I’ll always think about them and never regret having known them.

 

I check the time on my phone. It’s been over an hour, and still no sign of Liam. He’s usually not this late, and I can’t wait anymore. I still have a shit ton of stuff to finish up. I open the heavy fire door leading down into the basement and head over to the archives. The door groans as I push it open and slip the key on the hook. Quickly, I flip on the lights and look around for some disgusting ghost or some other scary shit. Relieved not to see anything I don’t want to know about, I hurry over to the editing room behind the shelves. I almost trip over a box someone’s left on the floor. And that shock to my system helps me to calm the fuck down. It’s a room filled with boxes and old equipment and nothing else. I’m here all alone, and there’s no one here to bother me.

 

Once I get started, it’s easy to lose track of time, and I don’t realize four hours have gone by until my stomach growls. Liam never did show up or even text. I frown at the screen of my phone. He’s probably pissed at me for something I did to him without knowing. That isn’t fair to blame them for what I know I did. Two wrongs don’t make a right, and it can ruin lives, as I found out quickly. I still haven’t figured out why I didn’t tell Dom first or even Chase. I know why I didn’t tell Silas.

 

I look at my phone again as a text pops up onto the screen. I didn’t realize how low I felt until my heart lifts, and an eager smile spreads across my face. I wonder if Chase has changed his mind. Or if Dom has decided not to get even. Or if Silas will give me another chance. I sigh in disappointment; it’s a text from Jagan wanting to have a talk. Not him now. I switch off my phone and toss it into my bag. It’s going to take time to get over the boys.

 

I toss my crap in my bag and get ready to go home. The suite is a cluttered mess, almost beyond repair. If Luna came back tonight, she’d freak, thinking we’d been raided again. I’ve got to clean tonight, or I might not be able to find clean socks in the morning. I stop moving and listen when I think I heard a noise.

 

The editing room is in the opposite corner. And I swear I hear a door shut in that corner. I’m being silly again. The key is in here on the hook. I hear the noise again, and this time, I know it’s not my imagination. It’s probably Liam, but why would he be in this rundown studio? I switch on my phone to check my texts, and there are seven notifications. Liam did send a text apologizing for not showing, but the rest are from Jagan.

 

Jagan: Where are you?

 

He sent his last text around three, and it’s almost seven. I doubt he’ll respond, but I send a reply anyway.

 

Vicki: Film archives. Why???

 

Almost immediately, I get a message.

 

Jagan: Come to the office ASAP. URGENT!!!

 

If this is about probation again, I will launch this phone at his head. I freeze when a door shuts. Someone is in here. The bang is too loud to be the heavy metal door into the archives. I walk into the stacks, peeking through the gaps between the cardboard boxes. I can’t see anything, but I definitely hear someone moving around. Why the fuck am I being so silly? Maybe because Dom’s uncle is a homicidal maniac. Well, I can’t say for sure, but he’s probably not a law-abiding citizen if I had to guess.

 

“Hello?” I shout and wait for a response. “Who’s here?”

 

No one answers, but there’s that sound again, like someone running down the next row over. I hurry to the end of the row and turn into the next one to see a flash of movement before it disappears.

 

“Hey, whoever’s there, stop playing.”

 

No response is given except the sound of footsteps moving closer. I hurry back into the row I just left and come face-to-face with Marcy.