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it open, hearing the alarm go off. But we don’t leave. I pull Ryen the other
direction and bolt up the stairs.
“Masen,” she gasps, breathing hard.
We could’ve just run, I guess, but my truck is on the other side of the
school, and I don’t know where her Jeep is. We might not make it without
being recognized. Hopefully, with the alarm going off, they’ll think we
bolted, though.
I pull her into the library and let the door close softly before rushing up
the stairs, hearing her struggle behind me. We hurry to the back, hidden
behind stacks and rows of books, near the couches and chairs. The library is
dark, only the faint moonlight coming in from the windows high above. Our
steps are soft, thanks to the carpeting, and I drag her behind a shelf, far, far
above and away from the doors in the front.
We’re secluded.
The alarm still goes off, but it’s faint.
She collapses into me. “Masen…”
She breathes fast and hard, only able to take in shallow breaths, and I
wrap my arms around her, feeling her go limp.
What the fuck?
Worry floods through me, and I cup her face as she fights for air. Her
lids are hooded and she looks like she’s in pain.
“My bag,” she breathes out.
What? And then I widen my eyes, remembering. Oh, fuck. She has
asthma. That’s right.
I shoot down to her backpack on the floor and dig in the front pocket,
pulling out a red inhaler.
I stand back up, wrapping her in my arms and holding her up. “Here.”