Morganville (Justin Bieber)

Chapter 105

Jennifer snagged my backpack and pulled it out of my reach.

"Hey!" I grabbed for my stuff, but Jennifer dodged out of my way, and then Monica took hold of my wrist and snapped something cold and metallic around it. For a crazy second I thought, She's switched bracelets with me. Now I'm Oliver's property. . . .

But it was the cold metal of a handcuff, and Monica bent down and fastened the other end to the metal post on the bottom of the nearest bathroom stall.

"Well," she said as she stepped back and put her hands on her hips, "I guess you'll be finding out just how tough the little general can be, Ana. But don't worry. I'm sure you're so smart, you'll just fill in those test answers by the power of your mind or something. "

I yanked uselessly at the handcuffs, even though I knew that was stupid; I wasn't going anywhere. I kicked the bathroom stall. It was tough enough to stand up to generations of college students; my frustration wasn't going to make a dent.

"Give me the key!" I yelled. Monica dangled it in front of me - small, silver, and unreachable.

"This key?" Monica tossed it into the toilet in the first stall and flushed. "Oops. Wow, that's a shame. You wait here. I'll get help!"

They all laughed. Jennifer contemptuously shoved my backpack across the floor to me. "Here," Jennifer said. "You might want to cram for the test or something."

I grimly opened my backpack and began looking for something, anything I could use as a lock-pick. Not that I knew the first thing about picking locks, exactly, but I could learn. I had to learn. I barely looked up as the three girls exited the restroom, still laughing.

My choices were a couple of paper clips, a bobby pin, and the power of my fury, which unfortunately couldn't melt metal. Only my brain.

I took the cell phone out of my pocket and considered my choices. I wouldn't have been surprised to find out that Eve or Justin had experience with handcuffs - and getting out of them - but I wasn't sure I wanted to endure the questions, either.

I called the Morganville Police Department, and asked for Richard Morrell. After a short delay, I was put through to his patrol car.

"It's Ana," I said. "I - need some help."

"What kind of help?"

"Your sister kind of - handcuffed me in a bathroom. And I have a test. I don't have a key. I was hoping you - "

"Look, I'm sorry, but I'm heading to a domestic-disturbance call. It's going to take me about an hour to get over there. I don't know what you said to Monica, but if you just - "

"What, apologize?" I snapped. "I didn't say anything. She ambushed me, and she flushed the key, and I have to get to class!"

Richard's sigh rattled the phone. "I'll get there as fast as I can."

He hung up. I set to work with the bobby pin, and watched the minutes crawl by. Tick, tock, there went my grade in Andersonville.

By the time Richard Morrell showed up with a handcuff key to let me loose, the classroom was dark. I ran the whole way to Professor Anderson's office, and felt a burst of relief when I saw that his door was open. He had to give me a break.

He was talking to another student whose back was to me; I paused in the doorway, trembling and gasping for breath, and got a frown from Professor Anderson. "Yes?" He was young, but his blond hair was already thinning on top. He had a habit of wearing sport jackets that a man twice his age would have liked; maybe he thought the tweed and leather patches made people take him seriously.