Belle already had the laptop open under the spray. She tilted the screen toward the sprinkler head so the water would bead off the keys, and she typed one-handed while her braid dripped steady drops onto the trackpad.
"Fox, that thing's going to short out," Naomi said. She grabbed the back of Belle's blazer and tugged her under the overhang of the janitor's door.
"This laptop survived a swamp, a sea monster, and Jordan's elbow. It can handle a hallway." Belle kept typing, rain streaming down the screen. "Monroe, I need a timestamp for first contact, and don't lie because the sprinkler log's going to tell me anyway."
"First contact was her fault, so put her name in that column."
"First contact was a hostile act on my person," Blair snapped. She still had my tie wrapped around her fist like a leash she'd forgotten she was holding. "He provoked me in a corridor, and that's an academic setting, which means there are rules."
