Why can't she understand? It's not space I want, it's freedom.
I'm not childish, nor was my decision to transfer a rash decision. Cameron had been pestering me for two years about transferring, and it's not like the transfer process is a quick one. I had plenty of time to talk myself out of this scary-as-hell, life-changing-decision, and I didn't. Mostly, because I wanted it so badly.
I love it here in Society Hill. Florida is wonderful, and I'm almost one hundred percent sure I'm never going back to Solitude, Mississippi. The only thing back there for me is the home I’m attached to—not by choice—and a woman I've only ever known as my mother. Who turns out, is a liar.
My life has never really been mine.
Growing up didn't stop me from finding happiness in what I had or what I was given, but I never stopped daydreaming and pretending my life was so much more.
My mother always told me no. I don't remember a time she ever said yes.
Actually, I do. At the age of seven, I asked her if I could go say hi to the boy, who looked my age and whose family had moved in next door. She hesitated, just briefly, before allowing it. That day, I found my very first friend.
Cameron has been stuck with me since, and I couldn’t have asked for a better friend.
I stare down at my pink-tipped toes and wiggle them. I've got a pedicure scheduled tomorrow morning with a friend from some of my art classes. I had admired her nails one day last week, and when she found out I'd never had a mani or pedi, she insisted we rectify it at once.
I'm nearly always barefoot, so it would do me good to treat my feet to some TLC. I'm excited about the adventure and looking forward to when I can set up my next one.
Let this be the year of adventures.
The year Zella Raps’s life truly begins.
2
Ryker
The room I am sitting in is quiet and dark. Normally, I do my best work in the darkness of my room. So, it's not the lack of light bothering me right now, it's the quiet. I've got a kickass pair of Beats headphones I use when I'm working. I have a few dedicated mixes—all rock and major roll. When I'm struggling, I listen to some music to get me hyped.
But that's not happening now. No, at the moment, I suffer in silence. I need to be able to hear if anyone approaches the classroom. If I'm caught, then I can kiss my days at Camelot University goodbye.
I haven't gotten caught yet, and I don't plan on starting today.
The blinds in the room are open, and soft sunlight streams in, but it's late in the afternoon and slightly overcast. I've kept the lights off to not draw attention into the room. There aren't any more scheduled classes in here today, so it shouldn't be an issue.
I've got my computer open on the nearby desk, and I stand next to the window, surveying the area outside. I'm on the third floor of the Raven building on campus. It provides me a nearly perfect view of The Castle’s third-floor administration offices.
Yes, a real fucking castle.
With my handy Zeiss monocular, I get a near-perfect look into Mr. Keith Cannons' office. Cannon is a financial aid manager who can never remember the network password that changes every thirty days. So he writes it down on a sticky note and sticks it to his computer monitor. The monitor in question happens to face the very window I'm searching for.
I lean over to make sure of Cannon's calendar for the day. Hacking into his email and gaining access to his daily agenda was easy, as his password hasn't changed in over a year. Shame on him.
Hacking into Cannon's personal information, along with so many other's on this campus, is way too easy. Every time I steal this kind of shit, I think about how it would be nice to sit these idiots down and tell them to start using their brains. If you don't want to be hacked, start by changing your fucking password once in a while. For the love of all things, don't use words and dates that are important to you.
People like Cannon make what I do so easy. I itch for jobs a little more challenging.
Scanning his agenda, I see he's due for a management meeting in the conference room on the other side of his floor. He will be in the meeting for a while, but what I need will only take a few moments.
Looking out the window, I scan the area. I might not be worried about being caught, but I don't want to get lazy. Always be alert when you're about to steal and spy.
Ha! Great thief motto right there.
My inner joke is cut short when I hear a commotion out in the hall. I lean forward and snap my laptop shut, then stand unmoving. There's a lot of talking outside the room. It sounds like a group of people, and I hope like hell they are about to walk away and not open that door.
Sure enough, the muted voices move their way down the hall.
Phew.
I need to hurry up. I pull out my monocular and slide it between two slats of the blinds. Focusing in on Cannon's office window, I find him still standing in his office. He's leaning over his desk, typing something on his computer.
I peak at my watch and check the time.
You're going to be late.
I focus back on him; he straightens and walks around his desk and out of the office.
About time.
I locate the blue sticky note, and sure enough, the ten-digit code is written in legible scribble.
Bingo.
I pull my phone out of my back pocket with my free hand and slide open the camera app. Bringing the phone up to the monocular, I steady my hand and have the perfect shot of the code.
Voices right outside the door cause me to pause.
Looking over my shoulder at the door, I see the door handle move, and the door opens slightly.
Shiiit!
I snap the picture, hoping it's not blurry and shove my phone back into my pocket. I take two steps to the desk and shove the monocular into my bag.
The door opens wider, and the voices filter in.
"Dude, I get it. You really don't want to see Mel, but the library is huge. I feel confident we can study there and not run into her."
"I don't want to risk it. She's clingy— too clingy—and I really need to study. I'm pretty sure she knows my schedule by heart. She's probably stalking the library, waiting for me."
The first dude laughs, and I bite back my own. Poor schmuck has himself a stalker.
"Let's just study in here." Schmuck proceeds to push the door all the way open, and I suck in a breath. Honestly, it doesn't look like I'm up to something, but the fact that the lights are off could set off suspicion. Then again, it's just two dudes hiding from a chick, so it's probably not a big deal.
"Yo! What are you two up to?" a third voice asks.
Shit, I know that voice. Unfortunately, it belongs to my roommate, Warrick Wells., who I lovingly refer to as Wells; he isn't my biggest fan.
Wells and I used to be pretty tight, but we've gone down separate paths since freshman year. Wells got himself a part-time job with on-campus security. Me? I honed my computer technology skills and engaged in slightly illegal projects in my spare time.
He'd take one look at me and my computer in a dark classroom and know exactly what I'm up to.
I slowly and quietly push my laptop into my bag as Wells continues the conversation.
"Forget the classroom. There's a nice little study room down on the second floor. Let’s head down there; at least we’ll be comfortable in hiding." They all laugh, and the door closes.