The Hidden Door by Liz Botts Read Free Book Online

he hates to think that all these years of searching have been in vain, but what if I'm right? We pull the lever and jump back as the bookcase swings open several feet. Justin starts up the stairs. I grab his hand and bound up after him. There is the briefest moment of hesitation that makes me angry. But then he grips my hand in his own, and we rush up the stairs. We follow the winding steps. In front of a door that could contain the answers to our lifelong mystery.
    Swallowing hard, I squeeze Justin's hand. He squeezes back, and with his free hand he reaches in to his coat pocket and pulls out the key. I take the flashlight and aim it at the lock. Silently we count to three, Justin holding up fingers as he goes and then he inserts the key. And...
    Nothing happens.
    Disappointment rushes through me. A boulder sized lump forms in my throat burning with unshed tears as I meet Justin’s disappointed gaze. I'm glad to be proven wrong, but sad that our search has turned up short yet again. We shuffle back down the stairs, no longer holding hands. Justin heaves the bookcase back into place until we hear the latch click. I flip off the flashlight a nd tuck it into my back pocket.
    We head down the stairs back to the President’s office. I can't stand the way Justin's shoulders are sagging. I should say something. I need to say something. But what? I feel awful too. Still, I want to make him feel better so I open my mouth and begin to babble in a low voice about how at least we can keep looking.
    A clattering in the outer office makes me clamp my mouth shut. Justin grabs me and pulls me down under the President’s big oak desk in one smooth motion. Thank goodness the desk is massive or else we would not fit. Justin wraps his arms around me, holding me firmly against his solid chest. Despite the fact that we are about to be caught, and most likely be in very big trouble, I can't help sinking into him just a little. Why am I having such a hard time keepi ng my distance from him?
    I almost laugh at the absurdity of that thought. Gee, I wonder why I can't seem to get any emotional distance when the physical distance between us keeps shrinking exponentially.
    The door to the President’s office thumps open against the wall. Footsteps sound just on the other side of the desk, and the beam of a flashlight bounces around the room.
    "Is anyone in here?" The voice is gruff, but weary. My guess is that it belongs to a campus police officer, tired from dealing with drunken college students pulling stupid pranks all night. Well, that and dealing with The Vampire. That woul d be enough to wear anyone out.
    My breath hitches. In the dark under the desk where our combined breathing seems louder than a jet engine, I am sure the cop hears me. Luckily his footsteps recede and soon we hear them thudding up the staircase.
    "Now," Justin says in a low, urgent voice then he pushes me out from under the desk. As quietly as a moose in a china shop we stumble out of the office as if we are on fire. We hightail it to the stairwell, I grab my backpack and we race down to the level below. Hopefully we'll be able to blend in with the crowd from the Music Hall.
    I think I hear the sound of footsteps on the stairs above us. My heart is racing. We burst onto the next floor just as the Halloween concert lets out. The throngs of people impede our escape, and suddenly we are laughing. Justin grabs my hand as we weave through the concert-goers. We burst into the cold night air and keep running. Finally we run out of stea m near the headless gargoyle.
    Still laughing, Justin pulls me close, into a hug that is so painfully familiar I don't even blink. He draws back slightly, sobering suddenly. The look in his eyes mirrors the same feeling warring in my chest. I let him pull me close again, his mouth hovering dangerously close to mine. An icy wind whips around us. All I can feel is his wa rm breath teasing my lower lip.
    I don't know which of us closes the