“This thing is pretty cool,” Spencer says, playing with the movable front door, and then pointing at a seam along the roof. “Does it open?”

“It does,” Church replies absently, a hint of frustration in his voice as he glances over his shoulder. “Just don't break it or Magdalene will run you through with her cane. She once beat my sister for breaking an antique cat statue from the 1930s. Trust me: she isn't afraid of anyone.”

Spencer snorts, but carefully grabs either side of the miniature, opening it like a dollhouse and giving us a much better view of all the rooms inside.

“Look,” he says, pointing at the bookcase downstairs. “It's got your favorite book: Moby Dick.”

“Funny,” I snort, making a face at him, and then reaching in to pull one of the tiny books off the shelf. That's how detailed this thing is; the books actually come off the shelf and open up. Inside, there are tiny pages with little scribbles of faux writing. Next to Moby Dick, we've got Alice's Adventures in Wonderland, The Wonderful Wizard of Oz, and even a copy of A Study in Scarlet—the first Sherlock Holmes book. When I reach to grab that one, I accidentally knock the bookcase loose from the wall.

“Nice one, Chuck-let,” Spencer says as I try to put it back in place, only to see that it's actually connected to the wall with a hinge. Pushing it with my finger, I open it wider and find a faux doorway behind it, painted to look like a dark room with a set of steps.

Spence and I exchange a look.

“Hey guys, you might want to come see this …” he starts, just as Jeff says goodbye to the last of his friends, and the lights on the second floor flick off.

“Do you think everything about this miniature is true to life?” Ranger asks as soon as he sees what we’re looking at, but Church just purses his lips and heads for the stairs, taking them two at a time. With his long legs, it's a struggle to catch up, but when we do, we find him sliding his hands along the side of the bookcase. A moment later, there's a click, and the twins move forward to help Church drag it open.

Behind the bookcase, there's another door, but this one's locked.

Church and Ranger exchange a look before the latter pulls the gold key out from inside his shirt, tries the lock, and gets the satisfying click of tumblers in return.

The door swings open.

“Bingo,” Church says as we gaze down a set of stone steps and into a sea of blackness.

The other girls aren't supposed to move in until next quarter, but that doesn't stop them from visiting the campus on the weekends to work on their campaign for the Student Council—especially Aster. Or hell, maybe she’s just here to screw Mark under Selena’s nose? What do I know?

“Do you really think Mark's cheating on Selena with Aster?” I ask Spencer, adjusting the floppy packer penis in my panties, and then turning around to grin at him. It makes a nice bulge under my skirt, and I chuckle. We're supposed to be working on our Halloween costumes, and I figured it'd be fun to do something with the infamous dick aka Ranger's 'prosthetic'. Mom still doesn't get the joke. The other day, when she called me, she inquired about his 'accident' yet again.

“I'm supposed to answer that question when you've got your hand down your panties?” Spencer asks, lounging on my bed and tossing a Hacky sack up in the air. He catches it as it comes down and then sits up, tossing his tie over one shoulder. The way his eyes take me in reminds me of that day when he walked in and saw me ass-up and bent over, trying to dig my phone out from behind the bed.

He's never looked at me any different—boy or girl, or after dating his friends.

“Um, yes.” I put my hands on my hips and give them a little twist, swishing the skirt around my thighs and flopping the penis around with the motion. “Yes, you are.”

“Well, then,” he says, standing up from the bed, the scent of his Kenneth Cole Black fragrance filling the room and making my heart flutter. “The answer is hell fucking yes. You've never been to a party with Mark, have you?” I shake my head as Spencer moves a little closer, reaching down to cup my faux dick under my skirt and giving it a squeeze. “He'll sleep with any girl that'll have him. No wonder Selena's all up his ass.”

Spencer leans down and brushes his lips to mine, sliding his hand up and under the waistband of my panties. Instead of going straight for the wet heat between my thighs, he strokes the packer penis like it's really a part of me.

“Church might be back soon,” I murmur, loving the way Spencer's fingers feel as he slides them across the side of my neck and into my hair. I look up and find him smirking down at me, this cocksure little grin that reminds me why I fell for him in the first place. He acts like a total badass, but really, underneath it all, he's got the best heart.

“So?”

“So he might not like walking in to see you nailing his fiancée in his room.”

Spencer chuckles, and removes his hand from my panties, dragging me over to the bed and pulling me down on top of it. He kisses me like he can't get enough, sliding his hands up and under my skirt to cup my ass. It's like, my ultimate naughty fantasy, to be fucked in my schoolgirl uniform. But we haven't exactly gotten there yet.

Just when I think we might, the sound of the door being unlocked causes Spencer to scramble off of me, cursing and grabbing a pillow to hide the erection in his slacks. He most definitely does not need a packer penis to pass the grab test.

Church walks in with the other boys on his heels and pauses, cocking his head to one side, an iced coffee in one hand and a long poster tube in the other.

“Are we interrupting something?” he asks, but both Spencer's and my sputtered nonsense that they aren't proves that they most definitely are.

Ranger rolls his eyes and takes a seat on Church's bed, crossing his arms over his chest and meeting my eyes from across the room. The twins aren't shy about stealing some of Church's canned coffee drinks from the mini-fridge and then making themselves comfortable on my bed.

“What's in the tube?” I ask as Church hands it over to Ranger, sucking on the straw of his coffee while his friend pulls out the papers inside.

Maps? I lean closer to get a better look and find blueprints instead. And not just of Adamson, but of the entire town of Nutmeg, too.

“With these, we can see where, exactly, the tunnels go,” Church says, watching as Ranger unfolds the large sheets of paper on his friend's bed, weighing the corners down with the stack of mangas—Japanese anime comics—from Church's side table. “When they built Nutmeg, and expanded the Adamson campus, they were concerned about the possibility of the tunnels collapsing, so they mapped it all out.”

“This is where we went in originally,” Ranger says, pointing at a spot on the map and then tracing down the long length of tunnel. “And it's no wonder we couldn't find another way out. This one runs for miles before it branches off or offers up another exit. But look at this.” Ranger points out the antique store on the map, and then draws his finger along the length of tunnel underneath it. The bookcase entrance we found leads not only to the entire underground network, but also to several of the other stores.

The stores that the Montagues don't own.