breathing, a stir of fabric. She heard nothing. In spite of the silence, she half expected the door to fly open in front of her face, Hardin to reach out and grab her. She ached to bolt.
She wondered what she was doing here in the first place.
Risking expulsion - or worse.
She could’ve been safe, right now, back at the dorm. Even better, she could’ve been in the park making out with Robbie.
Instead, she was on this crazy mission. Not really to avenge Barbara, though that was part of it. The real purpose was simply to do something wild for the fun of it.
Madness.
Then she realized that nothing had happened in response to her knock.
She hurried down the hall and joined Helen at the top of the stairs.
‘Are you out of your gourd?’ Helen asked.
‘We both are. But I had to make sure she wasn’t there, didn’t I? Come on.’ They trotted downstairs and stopped at the double doors leading outside. Abilene checked her wristwatch. Five till ten. ‘Maybe they’re early,’ she said. She pushed one of the horizontal bars and eased the door open.
Finley, sitting on a bench in the darkness under an oak tree, raised a hand in greeting. She stood and picked up her video camera. A few strides took her to the end of the bench. Facing the wooded lawn that bordered the campus, she swung an arm overhead.
Moments later, Cora and Vivian appeared on one of the walkways. They were each carrying a grocery sack. They met up with Finley and the three of them, glancing this way and that, hurried to the stoop of the administration building. They rushed up the concrete stairs. The moment they were inside, Abilene pulled the door shut.
‘How’d it go?’ Cora whispered.
‘Hardin showed up.’
‘Christ,’ Vivian muttered.
‘Yeah, we were…’
‘Tell us later,’ Cora said. ‘Let’s get into her office first. Nobody’s in the building, I take it?’
‘We don’t think so. The custodians never did show up.’ Turning to Finley, she said, ‘They were supposed to be in and out by ten, remember?’
‘I’m not an expert on their schedule. But they’re in Waller right now.’
Waller Hall was the science building on the other side of the campus.
‘As long as they aren’t here,’ Cora said, and started up the stairs. '
‘We’d better keep an eye out for them,’ Abilene warned.
‘How many are there?’ Helen asked.
‘Just two who come here.’
‘That’s not so bad,’ Cora said.
‘It only takes one to spot us and we’re dead,’ Abilene said. They stopped in front of Hardin’s office door. Cora set her bag on the floor. ‘Give me some light.’
Abilene switched on her flashlight and aimed it into the sack. Cora’s denim purse was there among bottles and plastic bags of snacks. Crouching, the girl opened it. She took out a credit card. ‘This oughta be good,’ Finley said.
Card in hand, Cora tried to loid the lock. After a while, she muttered, ‘Shit. It always works in the movies.’
‘This ain’t the movies,’ Finley pointed out.
‘How’ll we get in?’ Helen asked.
‘Maybe this is our cue to quit,’ Vivian suggested.
‘No way,’ Cora said. ‘I had to shell out twenty bucks to get that guy to buy the booze.’
‘We could always drink it in the comfort and safety of the dorm,’ Abilene said.
‘We’re gonna get in if I have to kick the fucking door down.’
‘One of us might be able to climb in through that,’ Finley said, pointing at the open transom above the door.
Cora stared at it. ‘Yeah. You’re the smallest.’
‘You’re the jock.’
‘Cora’s ass might get stuck,’ Vivian said.
‘Screw you.’ With that, Cora put away her credit card and purse. ‘Give me a boost.’
Abilene and Helen made stirrups of their hands. They squatted. Cora stepped aboard. They lifted while Vivian and Finley shoved at her rump. Cora pulled herself up by the sill. In seconds, her head and arms were through the gap. She squirmed. The girls thrust her higher. ‘Yeeow!’
‘What?’ Abilene asked.
‘My tits. Finley, you bitch, you could’ve gotten through easy.’
‘Me, too,’ Vivian said. ‘But you’re the fearless leader.’
‘Everyone let go of me.’
The girls stepped back. Kicking, writhing, groaning, Cora squeezed her torso through the space beneath the window. Then she went motionless, apparently resting before the final assault. Her legs were bent, knees braced against the top of the door, feet up. Her rump did look larger than the gap.
‘Here comes the hard part,’ Vivian said.
‘Screw all of ya,’ came Cora’s muffled voice.
She kicked her legs, twisted, squirmed, lurched, growled. Her rump made it through the transom. Her shorts didn’t. As she fell out of sight behind the door, the gym shorts travelled down to her ankles where they were snagged by a latch at the bottom of the transom and plucked from her disappearing shoes.
Helen giggled.
Inside the office, Cora thudded.
Vivian jumped. She grabbed the shorts, gave them a flip, and freed them.
Muttering a string of curses, Cora opened the door.
‘Lost something,’ Vivian said, and handed over the shorts.
Cora put them on. She and Vivian picked up the grocery bags, and everyone entered the office. Abilene shut the door after them.
They walked past the secretary’s desk, through a doorway into Hardin’s office. Abilene shut that door, too. Cora flicked a light switch, and overhead fluorescents blinked on.
‘Hey!’ Helen protested.
‘It’s okay,’ Cora said, nodding toward the closed blinds.
‘Light’ll still get through,’ Abilene said.
‘Not much. Besides, we’re on the second floor. Nobody’ll notice.’
‘And I can’t record the event for posterity if we don’t have the lights on,’ Finley said. She lifted her camera and began to tape.
‘That better not fall into the wrong hands,’ Cora warned.
‘Nobody’ll ever see it but us.’
Cora and Vivian set their sacks on Hardin’s desk. They removed bags of potato chips and com chips, a stack of plastic glasses, two bottles of tequila, two cartons of lemonade, and a clear plastic bag full of ice cubes. As they began to prepare drinks, Abilene looked around the office.
In front of the big desk was a single armchair with brown vinyl upholstery. The hot seat, she thought. Probably where Barbara was sitting when Hardin dumped the rum on her head. Some must’ve gotten on the carpet. Sure enough, the old gray carpet was stained around the chair. More than a litde rum, Abilene guessed, had been spilled there.
A couple of straight-backed chairs stood just inside the door. There were bookshelves against two walls, filing cabinets in one corner. The room reminded her of other campus offices she had seen: cluttered with books, pamphlets, magazines, stacks of paperwork. Only the top of Hardin’s desk was tidy, bare except for the telephone,
