"Um, a that kind of lock?" Lyra pointed her phone at the drawer to show the keyhole. Did different kinds of locks have different names? Lyra didn't even know how you'd describe it other than locked. It was a heavy, wide, modern looking desk, seemingly very sturdy. It didn't seem the type that you could slip a ruler into and pop open. Didn't seem like the kind of drawer you could break into subtly at all. She did thump it, once with the side of her fist, just in case, but it fully didn't work.
Lyra slid off the chair and crawled under the desk, pointing her phone up in case a key was taped to the bottom. No luck, but she groped around, hunting for secret panels, then checked the underside of the chair, too, feeling around under the legs. "Would you hide a secret key in your condom drawer?" she asked. "Or would you keep it on you? No, everyone's trading clothes, he won't have it on him. It's gotta be here- shit, do you hear that?"
Outside, the shouts and the cries and the laughter and the egging on from the fight had changed, and Lyra realised with a start that the footsteps were all thundering up the stairs. She hissed another swear and scrambled out, grabbing onto Avery's arms to help her stand– it wouldn't do to be caught under the desk, if anyone threw the door open right now. She could probably only get away with that if Avery fully had his pants down. But this was better, standing close to him while people thundered down the hall outside the door, still holding his arms, waiting to see if anyone was about to bust them...