The last thing you heard before heading out of the back exit was a little prayer.

For you. That was a new one.

It had been a boring Saturday night, not enough homework to take you to bedtime. So you'd picked yourself up out of bed, got dressed, and went out to a bar not far from campus.

Normally, it'd be a drink or two, some small talk with a few people, and retiring before anyone could try and take you home.

Tonight, you were caught up.

Patrick came up to you first. Paid for a third drink you never intended on having and started flirting with you like he'd tailored the lines to you in advance.

Just as you finished the drink, Art sidled up, saying something about going out for a smoke, nonchalant as ever.

"Perfect timing." Patrick had murmured. Yeah, perfect. The perfect plan.

You almost wondered how many times they'd done this, as you stood against the back wall of the bar, watching as they burnt through their cigarettes.

This was... doable.

Art finally spoke up, smoke curling up out of his lips. "Patrick said you live close, that true?"