She pauses in pulling on her hoodie, turning to look at Cara with narrowed eyes.

"What."

The word comes out flat, already defensive. She doesn't like the way Cara phrases it - like she's trying to be helpful again. Like she's trying to manage Vera's reactions.

"Just say it. We don't have time for you to dance around whatever stupid idea you have."

She zips up the hoodie, checking her pockets. Keys, phone, wallet. Everything she needs.

She swallows. "Uh. If we hold hands and I act a bit giggly, nobody who knows me will be surprised that we are making a late night run to my room to grab some clothes and my laptop."

She stares at Cara for a long moment, processing the suggestion. It's... actually not terrible. People would see them and make assumptions - the kind of assumptions that explain everything without raising questions.

But the idea of Cara acting giggly around her, pretending they're... whatever people would think they are...

"Fine." The word comes out clipped. "But you don't overdo it. Just enough to sell it if we run into someone. And—" She steps closer, jabbing a finger at Cara's chest. "You drop the act the second we're alone. I don't want to hear a single fucking giggle when it's just us."

She grabs Cara's hand, lacing their fingers together. The contact helps her head, at least.

"Let's go."

...oh! She tries not to let her surprise show too much on her face, and also tries not to flinch when Vera pokes her. (She's only mostly successful, in both cases).

She nods seriously at the instruction.

"You have better hearing than me; let me know if someone's coming from behind us or around a corner?"

And then out into the night she goes, hand in hand with her captor rescuer ...Vera.

She doesn't answer, just pulls Cara out into the hallway. It's quiet - most students are either asleep or at parties by now. Good.

They make it down two flights of stairs before she hears voices echoing up from below. She stops, listening. Male voices, getting closer.

"Someone's coming up," she mutters, then louder, pitched to carry: "Come on, we'll miss the good part if we don't hurry."

She tugs Cara closer, wrapping an arm around her waist. The contact helps with the building pressure in her head, even as it makes her skin crawl to playact like this.

Ooooh, she's not bad at this, some part of Cara thinks distantly. She giggles, leaning into Vera.

"I know, I knowwwwwwwww," she replies, her voice loud and carefree.

Two guys round the corner, clearly drunk. One of them squints at them, recognition dawning on his face.

"Cara? That you?"

Fuck. Of course someone knows her. Of course this couldn't be simple.

She tightens her grip on Cara's waist, forcing a smile that probably looks more like a grimace.

"We're kind of in a hurry," she says, trying to sound casual rather than murderous. She starts walking again, pulling Cara with her, hoping they'll take the hint.

Oh, huh, are Pete and Yang hooking up again? They sure seem on friendly terms, at least, that's neat.

She winks and smiles. "We'll catch up later, yeah?"

She keeps them moving, not letting the drunk idiots slow them down. Her grip on Cara stays firm - possessive enough to sell the act, tight enough to maintain control.

She hisses, "Who the fuck were they?"

She doesn't slow their pace. The pool building is just ahead, dark except for the emergency lighting.

She drops the face as soon as they pass by. 

"Yang and his fwb," she whispers back. Vera probably doesn't want much detail? She'll leave it at that for now. 

kinda nice to be held tight like this

She doesn't care about their relationship drama.

The pool building looms ahead, dark windows reflecting the campus lights. She tries the main door - locked, obviously. But she remembers there's a side entrance that's usually propped open for maintenance.

"Around here," she mutters, pulling Cara along the building's edge. Her fingers find the door handle. Locked too. Of course.

She looks at Cara. "Tell me you have another way in, or we're breaking a window."

Oh good, she can interpret that as a question and not a command to parrot something back.

 "I - we could go to the front desk at the complex, it's staffed until 2 am, but they check ID by policy so it would require some begging on my part and it isn't a sure thing?" 

She peers at the door suspiciously. "The lock looks super pickable..." 

She pulls out her wallet, fishing through it until she finds what she's looking for - her old dorm key from freshman year, thin and flexible from being bent too many times.

"Move." She shoulders Cara aside, working the key into the gap between door and frame. It's a shit lock, probably decades old. She jiggles it, feeling for the latch.

Click.

The door swings open into darkness. She grabs Cara's wrist again, pulling her inside before someone sees them.

She can ✨ pick locks ✨ brain PLEASE,,,

Inside she goes, smiling a bit despite herself. She tries not to look at Vera until her face is a more acceptable neutral.

She catches the smile out of the corner of her eye and her grip tightens painfully on Cara's wrist.

"Stop that." The words come out sharp, automatic. "Locker room."

The emergency lights cast everything in a sickly green glow. The chlorine smell is overwhelming even from here, making her stomach turn. She needs to get Cara's things and get out before security does a round.

Ow. Useful reminder that she should not be cultivating positive thoughts towards this bitch, at least. 

...she doesn't get what set Vera off there, exactly, but "be more like furniture and less like a person with opinions" is probably the proper correction.

She takes a few deep breaths (through her nose - it's a lot quieter and less obvious that way) and stills her face.

She drags Cara through the dark hallways, following the signs to the women's locker room. The place feels wrong at night - too quiet, too empty. Like they're trespassing, which they are.

"Which locker?" she muses aloud once they're inside. The emergency lighting barely reaches here, casting long shadows between the rows of metal.

She frowns, trying to focus, but it doesn't come back to her.

"...don't remember, sorry."

She pushes her into a bench, toppling her into another locker with a clatter. "Try harder."

Augh augh augh.

She tries to replay the events at the pool in her mind, step by step. Vera opening her locker, Vera ordering her to strip, Vera putting her into that swimsuit...

"...I don't remember you putting my clothes in your locker? When you lead me to the pool, they were still on the floor..."

"Of course you don't." She releases Cara's wrist, shoving her forward slightly. "Start checking. Look for your clothes."

She leans against the wall, watching Cara move through the rows. Her head is throbbing again - the brief separation already making itself known. But she needs both hands free if they run into trouble.

"And hurry up. I don't know when security does rounds."

She starts going through the unlocked lockers, one by one (empty, empty, empty...)

...She wasn't ordered to be quiet.

"...If we left them on the floor, they'd probably be in the lost and found box, not a random locker." (empty, some trash, empty...)

She stops, processing that. Lost and found. Of course. She's an idiot.

"Where's the lost and found?" Her voice comes out sharp, irritated - mostly at herself for not thinking of it.

She pushes off the wall, moving closer to Cara. The distance is making her head worse, thoughts starting to scatter again. She needs the contact but doesn't want to reach for it. Not after shoving her away.

"Show me. Now."