21. Lights Out

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"It's fucking freezing out here," I say, speed walking with Olivia to the science building, trying to seek warmth as fast as possible.

"Well, it is below freezing," she says, her voice slightly muffled by the thick scarf around her neck that she has her chin tucked down into.

"Smartass," I mumble, playfully bumping into her.

She giggles, jogging the rest of the way to the science building. I chase after her as it begins to flurry and sleet, the tiny little snowflakes and frozen pellets flying all around us.

Once inside, the sweet heat engulfs us and we begin to delayer. She peels off her gloves and unwinds the scarf around her neck while I remove my beanie, shaking out my dark brown hair, and unzip my winter coat. Looking down at my red, freezing cold hands, I cup them together in front of my face, breathing on them while continuously rubbing them together every few seconds, trying to regain feeling.

Olivia sniffles, shrugging off her backpack and setting it on a nearby bench to pack her winter accessories inside. I note how red the tip of her nose is, as well as the tips of her ears that were nipped by the cold.

I reach into my coat pocket, fishing out my beanie, and I walk up to her, placing the black knit fabric on top of her head, making sure it covers her ears.

She looks up at me with confused amusement, subconsciously reaching up to touch the fabric at the top of her head.

"Don't want your ears to fall off, Finch."

She smiles, shaking her head. "Says the guy whose fingers are almost blue."

I look down at my hands and back up at her, quirking a brow and taking a step closer. So close our bodies are almost touching, and I can faintly smell her vanilla perfume. "Want to warm them up for me?" I ask, my voice low.

Her smile fades and I watch her throat work on a swallow. She looks down at my hands, and surprisingly, she grabs them with her own. They look so small compared to mine, her fingers long, slender, and dainty compared to my rough, calloused ones. She holds little heat in her own hands, but I feel a flush slide over my body just by having her soft, gentle hands wrapped around mine.

"Have you thought anymore about my offer?" I ask, my voice raspy in the intimacy of what feels like our own little bubble.

After the club, on the car ride back to my dorm after our stop in the parking lot, I may have asked Olivia to spend Thanksgiving with me since we'd both be some of the rare few that aren't leaving town for the holiday—her since she lives here and me because I have nowhere to go, no family to see. The football team is holding a small get together at one of the frat houses, since most of us are staying in town because we have a game the next day. I invited Olivia but she seemed hesitant, and I guess I can't blame her. I'm not too keen on spending the holiday in a dingy frat house, either.

She looks up at me through her thick lashes, seemingly lost for a moment before regaining her mental footing. "I actually talked to my parents and you're more than welcome to stop by tomorrow if you'd like. It's just going to be us three, and dads making his famous lasagna," she says, with a convincing grin.

"Hmm," I tilt my head to the side, pursing my lips and looking up at the ceiling, pretending to think. "Thanksgiving at your house, or—"I tilt my head to the other side, seemingly weighing my options, "at a grimy frat house with guys that have deli sliced turkey sandwiches and reek of stale beer. That's a tough call, Finch."

She flashes me an exasperated look, playfully squeezing my fingers hard.

I chuckle, pulling on her hands and jerking her body forward the few inches between us so that she collides into me. I hear her soft gasp as soon as her chest presses up against mine and I can't help but grin, my teeth sinking into my bottom lip. "What time should I be over?"

She looks up at me, warm honey colored eyes wide with surprise. "I, uh—" she sputters adorably. "Three," she finally blurts out. "Three is good."

I grin, adjusting our hands to thread our fingers together. "Should I bring anything?"

She shakes her head, seemingly at a loss for words. I can only assume she feels the sexual tension radiating between us as well.

I draw circles on the backs of her hands with my thumbs, pressing my body against hers more firmly. My mind suddenly has flashbacks to the night at The Library when she danced with me, our bodies moving against each other in a way I so desperately want them to in the intimacy of a bedroom. I remember the feel of her warm, smooth skin at her back, my fingers involuntarily twitching in hers at the memory. The smooth lines and planes I want to drag my lips across every single inch of.

Our eyes bore into each other, and it's like time has magically stopped, until inevitably by some sort of cruel fate, our little bubble is burst.

"Miller!" I hear someone boom from across the atrium. Involuntarily, I peel my eyes away from Olivia's to glance over my shoulder, seeing Brennen walking up to us, beaming. He has a knowing, teasing grin on his face, and the little glint in his eye gives it away that he's purposefully interrupting our little moment to torture me. Asshole.

"What?" I almost snap, but I'm able to reel in the hostility of my tone.

He lifts up the leather jacket in his hand in a grand fashion before throwing it at me. I only let go of one of Olivia's hands, catching the leather deftly, one handed. "Toby found it the other night after his shift at the club. Gave it to me in our 9:00 a.m. to pass it off to you," he informs me.

"Thanks." I give him an appreciative nod, and I catch his gaze fall down to Olivia's hand still in mine. He smirks.

Olivia's grip loosens and I can feel her starting to pull away, but I keep my grip firm, not letting go of her hand. I steal a quick glance at her to see that her cheeks now match her red nose, but it's not from the cold.

"You guys are staying in town for Thanksgiving, right?" Brennen asks. "Apparently they just announced that there's a nasty storm heading this way in about three hours or so, and whoever hasn't already skipped classes for the day is running like a bat out of hell to get to wherever they're trying to go."

Olivia's brow furrows with worry. "A storm?"

"Yeah, a winter storm. We're going to get freezing rain and all that. Roads are going to turn into an ice rink—so they predict."

Olivia frowns. "I wonder if Delilah knows?" she wonders out loud, since she carpooled here with her.

I give her hand a reassuring squeeze. "If you want to leave I can always take you home," I offer.

She worries her lip. "I don't know, I don't want to skip lab. I'll just see what Delilah's going to do."

"Well you guys have fun," Brennen says. "If you need me, I'll be manning my shift behind the front desk at the dorms," he says, giving a little salute before heading off in that direction. He's been working at the athletic dorm's front desk since sophomore year.

Olivia's hand still in mine, I lead her down the hall to the anatomy lab. We walk in to see Delilah and rat boy already in their seats and he doesn't fail to shoot me a glare, his beady little eyes zoning in on our conjoined hands. I can't help but smirk as I watch him practically snarl.

Olivia's steps pick up as soon as she spots Delilah, and she rushes over to her best friend. "Have you heard about the storm?"

Delilah's brows knit together over her thick rimmed glasses. "Storm?"

"Yeah, we just heard there's a winter storm on the way," Olivia informs her, letting go of my hand to shrug off her backpack and take a seat. I take my seat next to her.

Delilah reaches for her phone, pulling up the weather app. She scans the forecast, her lips pursing into a frown. "This doesn't look good," she comments under her breath.

"What do you want to do, Dee? I know you were planning on driving back home tonight."

"Good thing is that it doesn't look like its heading south, but still. I want to avoid it as much as possible," she says, looking up at Olivia from her phone.

Olivia nods. "After the quiz we can head out, if you want. It doesn't look like half the class is showing up, anyway, and I'm sure Tracy will understand." She looks around the half empty classroom, and I'm a bit relieved when I realize Adrianna's whole table is missing.

Delilah glances out the window to observe the light precipitation already falling. "Yeah, that sounds good. I'm sorry, Liv. I hate skipping class as much as you do, but I just don't want to risk getting stuck in this."

Olivia shakes her head. "No, I don't want to risk it either, and I know how badly you want to get home to see your family for the holiday."

"It'll be fine," rat boy cuts in dismissively. "It's just a little snow."

"And ice," Delilah deadpans.

Rat boy shrugs carelessly, like he doesn't understand the severity of ice on roads. I get it, sometimes people can be real pansies about a little snow, but ice is nothing to fuck around with.

Tracy waltzes into the classroom, chipper as always. "Hey, class, I see a few of you managed not to skip lab today and head home early for the break," she jokes, setting her stuff down on her desk and jiggling the mouse to wake up the computer. "I appreciate it, and I know you all are itching to get out of here due to the break and the weather, so I promise to make this easy for you. Today, we're just going to take the quiz and breeze through next week's material. I won't keep you longer than necessary."

Olivia and Delilah share a glance across the table, the two of them having some kind of weird, silent, best friend telepathic exchange. After a moment, the both of them nod at the same time, coming to some sort of mutual agreement without saying one damn word to each other.

"What just happened?" I ask, amazed.

"What?" Delilah asks.

"That!" I gesture wildly between the two.

"Oh," Delilah smirks. "We're staying," she says simply.

I look to Olivia for confirmation. "You got all of that, just from that?" I ask, gesturing between the two of them yet again with my hand.

Olivia grins with gratification. "Yep."

I look over at Delilah, who has a matching grin.

"Chicks," I playfully mutter under my breath, causing them both to giggle.

Twenty minutes later, we're all walking out of lab. As promised, Tracy just handed out the quiz and briefly went over next week's material, bidding us a good break.

Walking towards the main entrance of the science building, we all stop short when we see a line of people blocking the glass doors, looking outside intently.

"What the hell?" I mutter under my breath, walking ahead and squeezing my way through the small crowd to see what all the fuss is about. I look outside, not seeing much. "What's going on?" I ask some random dude to my right.

"Ice is already coating the roads. A kid form our class is trying to make it out of the parking lot, but his truck is not really going anywhere without fishtailing," he says.

I snap my gaze towards the parking lot, seeing an old, beat up Chevy crawl across the parking lot, the brake lights glowing every few seconds, the truck sliding around, nearly hitting other cars in the lot. This kid is fucking insane. I can appreciate determination, but this is just straight up stupidity. There's no way he or anyone else is making it out of here without hitting something or killing themselves.

"What's going on?" Olivia asks, appearing behind me. She rests her hand on my shoulder, stabilizing herself as she stands on her tippy toes to look over my shoulder.

I crane my neck to look at her, my lips dangerously close to hers as I turn my head. I try my best to ignore her breath fanning across my face and her body brushing up against mine. "Guy can't make it out of the parking lot."

Her face falls, eyes immediately searching the parking lot to find the truck fishtailing, yet again. She sucks in a sharp breath when the truck nearly hits another car, and she quickly glances back at Delilah.

"What's going on?" Delilah asks, immediately detecting her best friend's distress. 

Olivia falters, struggling to find the words to break it to her gently that she's not going to be heading home for Thanksgiving to see her family anytime soon.

Delilah pushes her way past us to peek out the window herself, her shoulders immediately sagging when she sees the ice starting to glimmer across the pavement. "No," she whines, looking back at us with utter disappointment.

"I'm sorry, Dee," Olivia says, her voice dripping with guilt.

Delilah turns back around to look outside, intently observing. "What do we do?"

Olivia glances up at me helplessly.

"There's nothing much we can do," I admit honestly. "It's below freezing and the ground temperatures are not going to get much warmer as we approach nightfall. It looks like everyone on campus is stuck until at least morning."

A few more kids file into the atrium, no one really knowing what to do. Only a few brave souls attempt to leave the building, slipping and sliding around as the trudge towards the dorms. Two guys I recognize are from the hockey team, walking more effortlessly on the icy concrete than some others who are falling on their asses.

"What's going on?" I look over my shoulder to spot Tracy all bundled up, bag tossed over her shoulder and keys in hand, looking like she's ready to leave for the day.

"Roads are already covered in ice," I inform her.

She frowns, fighting her way to the front of the doors to look outside for herself. "What the—they said it wasn't supposed to hit for another couple of hours."

"Right?" Delilah grumbles bitterly, arms tightly crossed over her chest as she looks outside with hatred.

Tracy does her best to try to compose herself, tucking some of her red hair behind her ears. "Alright, everyone, don't panic," she instructs, despite her voice rising a few octaves. "This should all blow over in a couple of hours," she says optimistically, but I can tell deep down even she knows that isn't true.

"We're never getting out of here," rat boy grumbles cynically, walking away and throwing himself down on one of the lounge chairs.

"No, no, that's not true," Tracy says, but her voice wavers a bit. "Everything is going to be okay, we just have to wait out the storm for a bit."

Moments later, the lights begin to flicker and everyone looks up, a low murmur of panic starting to ensue.

"Fuck," I mutter under my breath, and I shoot my gaze toward the power lines outside, seeing them already coated with ice.

Olivia's hand wraps around arm and I look down to find her wide, worried eyes looking up at me.

"It's going to be okay," I try to assure her, my arm instinctively circling around her waist.

Just as the words leave my lips, all the lights go out with a low, ominous droning noise.

"You have got to be kidding me," I hear Delilah grumble before everyone breaks out into panic.


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