by Sherry Soule
“Yup. Haven’t you heard? It burns more calories,” I remark drily. “Besides, you’re always bugging me about my weight.”
“I think you’re acting a little immature about this, Sloane.” Her body stiffens. “This might feel like the end of the world now, but it’ll pass.”
I back away, my fingers tightening on the strap. “Okay, well, it’s been great talking to you, Mom,” I say to stop her from saying anything else. “I’m gonna be late.”
I dash out the door and drive to school. After I park the Jetta, I hurry to Hayden’s locker to ambush him. He isn’t there so I lean against the wall, watching people walk by or get textbooks out of their locker. The seconds tick by and my right leg starts jiggling. I check the time on my phone.
When the final warning bell chimes and he’s still a no-show, my body caves inwards. As I go to class, my arms hang limp at my sides. This sucks worse than a hyped-up horror flick with no thrills or chills. Hopefully I can catch Hayden in the cafeteria at lunch.
My morning classes creep by like lackluster movie trailers. Finally, lunchtime arrives and I rush out of class toward Viola’s locker. I find her stuffing a textbook inside and talking to Zach.
“Hey, Vi!” I say loudly to announce my arrival.
Viola flinches and drops a pencil. Zach nods to Viola, but he doesn’t acknowledge my presence. He turns on his heel and rushes off in the opposite direction.
“Uh, hey,” Viola says offhandedly, then squats to retrieve her fallen pencil. “I was just asking Zach what extracurriculars he’s taking this year.”
“Don’t.” I stare at her. “If you can’t tell me the truth, that’s fine, but please don’t lie to me.”
She shuts her locker. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”
As we walk to the cafeteria, three students glance in our direction, their gazes lingering on my best friend, then me. In heavy makeup and dark clothing, she resembles a Victorian vampire, and I look like her sidekick in a black mini-dress with a white collar and these gnarly platform boots I bought online from Dolls Kill.
A kid with major freckles and dirty sneakers bumps into Viola and she stumbles backward. “I’m a senior now. Get thee behind me, freshman!” she exclaims.
The boy flinches and mumbles an apology. We continue walking and push through the crowded hallway.
Viola lifts an eyebrow at me. “Did you talk to Hayden this morning?”
“Nope. He never showed.” I groan. “Is he even at school today?”
“Haven’t got a clue. We’ll hunt him down in the caf.”
We hurry through the crowded hallway like herded cattle toward the lunchroom. With every step closer to the double-doors, the butterflies in my stomach increase their fluttering. It started out as a tickle, but now it’s more like winged beasts rattling my ribcage.
“Hey, do you want to blow off sixth period and go to Hot Topic?” I ask.
“Ummm…” She fiddles with her velvet purse. “I can’t, but I’m free on Friday.”
“It’s no big deal. I just needed some retail therapy.”
Shaking her head, long dark hair swings around her delicate face. “I don’t mind going with you. I just can’t go today.”
“We can hang out another time.” I shrug. “What are you’re doing after school? The Graveyard Gang club is on hiatus until further notice.”
Viola lowers her head, tightening the strings on the satin vest she’s wearing over a ruffled top. “Nothing, just hanging with a friend. Anyway, let’s hit the shops on Thursday instead. My dad paid off my credit card, so I’ve got money to burn and new books TO READ. But let’s not tell Tanisha.”
“Why not?”
“She’s always getting into trouble. Last week, she got kicked out of Petco for trying on dog collars again,” Viola says.
We enter the cafeteria, and I freeze in the doorway. The plastic orange chairs resemble furnishings from a Wal-Mart catalog and Sears must’ve donated the ugly round tables just to get them out of the store. My already nervous stomach heaves at the stench of greasy food hanging strongly in the air.
My gaze sweeps over everyone in the room. Any of these people could be my mysterious blackmailer. The designer clad yuppies cluster in one corner, as if they would rather not socialize with the peasants. Overachievers study instead of eating their lunch. Social rejects and stoners take their food and trudge outside. And then there’s my awesome group—a mix of geeks, emos, and goths—other diverse, like-minded weirdos, who favor the dark-side and find themselves living outside mainstream society, sitting near the back.
Emma and Kaitlyn eating lunch at a table on my left suddenly cackle, their laughter echoing throughout the room. Emma says something to Kaitlyn, and they glance in my direction.
Why is Emma staring at me like that? It’s as if she knows my secrets. It’s like she can see right through me and—
Okay, deep breath. I’m becoming unstable. Obviously. Focus on your mission, Sloane!
When I finally spot Hayden, he’s sitting near his brother, Zach, but he’s off to one side of the table alone. Huddled around Hayden’s younger brother are his basketball teammates, who seem to be ignoring Hayden, the eternal loner.
The air whooshes from my lungs. A whole spectrum of emotions strikes me at the sight of him, like an addict who’s going into withdrawal. This is the first time since our epic breakup that I’ve seen him, and the desire to throw myself at his feet and beg him to take me back overcomes my senses. I want so badly to sit next to him, pretending nothing he said left a raw, emotional gash on my heart.
Zach stands near Hayden, and with his broad shoulders and muscular build, he’s the largest specimen of a guy I’ve ever seen outside a college football game. He smiles at something Hayden says, but it does little to soften his features that are rougher than Hayden’s.
“I found him,” I say. “But he’s with Zach.”
“Don’t let that stop you.” She nudges me with her elbow. “Go talk to him.”
I hesitate. “It’s too public. Too many eavesdroppers to witness the rejection.”
The breath hitches in my lungs, and I can’t do anything but gaze at Hayden. Brawny shoulders. Broad chest. Those incredible eyes. He’s wearing a black tank with a plaid shirt tied around the waist of his faded jeans, which makes him look like a member of a British pretty-boy band. On one wrist, he wears several black rubber bracelets. Although, I’m not sure I’m liking his nod to Seattle grunge attire, I still wanna be a drooling fangirl…
Hayden lowers his head to glance at his cell phone and his light brown fauxhawk falls across his forehead, covering one strikingly blue eye and one dazzling green. I’ve always thought the rare heterochromia iridis made him even hotter, if I didn’t also factor in the—chiseled features, flawless complexion, and Abercrombie model-worthy—attractiveness.
Viola nudges me from behind again. “You need to tell him. The longer you wait, the harder it’s gonna be.”
“I know, but I don’t need to be humiliated in front of the entire school.”
“Then text him to meet you somewhere more private.”
I shake my head. “No, a face-to-face might be best. He’ll ignore a text.”
Just as I gather my nerve and take a step in Hayden’s direction, Mr. Cooper blocks my path. “Sloane Masterson, there you are!”
FIVE
My AP English teacher, Mr. Cooper’s stern expression halts me in my tracks.
“Principal Allen wanted me to find you. She needs you to show a new student around campus today.” Mr. Cooper’s loud voice booms throughout the cafeteria. “Go directly to the office, please.”
“Me?” I shake my head and take another step toward Hayden’s table. “But I need to—”
He touches my shoulder. “Straight away, young lady.”
Crapola.
“Why in the hell was I picked for this lame job?” I whisper to Viola.
She shrugs and grabs a tray from the lunch line. “Text me later.”
; Now I’ll have to find another time to talk to Hayden. We do have one class together, but there’s no way I’m telling him with my frenemies, Emma and Kaitlyn, there, too. Especially if things go bad.
I hurry to the office and tell the administrator, Lisa Morris, that I’m here to meet with Principal Allen. She tells me to take a seat. I get out my phone and send Hayden a text, asking him to meet me somewhere after school.
A prickly sensation raises the hair on my neck and I jerk around.
In the doorway stands a tall boy, wearing an amused smirk and holding the strap of a backpack. It’s Saxton Ridge, who I met at the mall a couple of months ago. Viola went out with Saxton a few times, but friend zoned him pretty quickly. She tends to do that with guys who don’t live up to the fictional hotties in her favorite books.
Saxton easily stands more than a foot taller than me, and his blue eyes starkly contrast with his pale skin and black hair, making him resemble a teen Superman. I frown at his ultra preppy outfit that looks like he just jumped out of an American Eagle catalogue.
Principal Allen marches out of her office, her heels click-clacking on the floor. “Hello, Sloane.” She moves into the lobby and gestures at the Clark Kent lookalike, minus the nerdy glasses. “We have a new student, Saxton Ridge. I want you to show him around.”
“Of course. No problem,” I say.
Principal Allen turns to Saxton. “This is Sloane Masterson. She’ll give you a tour of the school and show you where your classes are located. If you have any further questions, please let me know, and welcome to Haven High!” She displays a big fake smile before strolling back into her office and shutting the door.
Without a word, I spin on my heel, exit the room, and tread down the barren hallway. Checking my texts, I send a few more urgent messages to Hayden, stating we need to talk ASAP.
Saxton follows me, slinging his backpack over one shoulder. “Nice to see you again, Sloane. How have you been? How’s Viola?”
“Wicked good,” I say curtly, not in the mood for small talk. “What’s your locker number? I’ll show you where it is first. Then the gym, bathrooms, and cafeteria.”
Saxton gives me the number. “Bad day?”
Nodding, I look at my phone. Nothing. I send Hayden another message asking him to meet me so we can talk just in case he didn’t get my other texts.
“Apocalyptic.” I keep walking and turn the corner. “What gave it away?”
“You look like someone stole your collection of Tim Burton DVDs.”
Ignoring his snarky remark, I flick a glance over my shoulder. “Why’d you transfer schools your senior year?”
“My dad’s in the armed forces, and he has a house in Grimm Haven,” he says. “When my mom remarried, let’s just say…three’s a crowd.” He tilts his head. “You know, I think the last time I saw you was at that club with Viola and Hayden. You two still going out?”
A sharp ache settles in my chest. “Um…no.”
He nods. “Love’s a bitch that will kick you in the nut-sack.” He chuckles. “Just so you know, the best way to get over someone is to—”
“Get it on with someone else?” I shake my head. “Hayden and I recently broke up and I’m still nursing some fairly raw wounds.”
Tanisha turns the corner carrying a stack of books and almost collides into Saxton. “Sorry!” She pauses long enough to give him a quick onceover, then rushes past us, saying over her shoulder, “I need to retake a test. We’ll talk later!”
Saxton and I continue to his locker. He spins the dial to unlock it. Saxton shoves his backpack inside and shuts it, then hands me his class schedule. I scan the list, give it back, and take off. As we’re walking around the school, I point out different areas to him and classrooms.
“And here’s the boys’ locker room.” I wave a hand at the double-doors. “Since your next class is PE, I suggest you get your butt moving or you’ll be late.”
“Thanks for the tour.” Saxton salutes me before swaggering through the door.
Spinning around, I hurry back to the cafeteria. Maybe I can still catch Hayden before lunch ends. I glance at my cell phone again. No messages. No missed calls. No voicemails. Hayden’s giving me the big freeze and it sucks.
I stop at my locker to reapply my lipstick before I face him, but I only stand there staring at the metal door like there’s a ticking bomb inside. I take a deep breath and spin the dial on the lock. My fingers are trembling so hard it takes me two tries to get the combination correct.
When I yank open the door, a black envelope plunges to the ground. A sizzle of raw nerves strikes my senses. Obviously, someone knows my locker combination. But the who remains a mystery.
I quickly snatch up the envelope, slam my locker door, and sprint into the bathroom, then lock myself inside a stall. My heart is racing faster than a thoroughbred on steroids.
Leaning against the cold wall, I rip open the envelope and slip out the nefarious message.
JUST A FRIENDLY TIP: CHOOSE YOUR ALLIANCES MORE CAUTIOUSLY. TRUST NO ONE!
Whoa? What? This has to be just some lame-o senior’s idea of a joke.
An ache blooms behind my eyes as I stand there trying to make sense of these cryptic notes. I scratch my head. So the blackmailer wants me to trust their warnings, but not my friends or family. Too weird.
Whoever the evil schemer is, they’re smart. Since the warnings, or supposedly threats, are typed on paper instead of a text or an email, they’ll be a lot harder to trace back to the source.
But one thing is clear…I have a new enemy.
There’s a special place reserved in hell for blackmailers and I’m a hundred percent sure that’s right next to Satan.
But I can’t tell if my nemesis, The Blackmailer, is trying to help me or if this is only some sort of sick prank. I’m still not sure I should tell anyone about these bizarre warnings yet. No need to overreact. Still…after everything that’s happened to me since I met Hayden, I should be drooling in a padded cell.
Shoving the message back into the envelope, I stuff it into my backpack. I’ll worry about this message later. Right now, I have a different mission.
I don’t slow until I reach the double-doors of the cafeteria, then pause. My insides turn into warm jelly. The slap of more rejection will be hard to take if Hayden won’t listen.
With a lift of my chin, I reach for the handle, but before my fingers can touch it, the doors swing open. Gasping, I jump back, avoiding almost being crushed to death by the heavy doors.
“Move out of the way, fat ass.” Zach struts through the doorway like an overconfident prizefighter, clutching the strap of a backpack in his meaty fist.
He stands there and sneers at me, flashing a set of white teeth. His dark hair is freshly cut, cropped super short, and he’s clad in his usual attire: a long shirt over baggy nylon shorts and high-tops.
Blockbuster awkwardness ensues. The last thing I need is to get into some ugly banter with Hayden’s hateful brother. Not only is he a frightful bully, but Zach can also include fat shaming to his ever-growing resume of dastardly deeds. I don’t have time for his intimidation-scare tactics, so I turn and start walking in the opposite direction to avoid the inevitable verbal smackdown.
“Wait up, Sloane.” He grips my arm. “I’d like a word.”
“Oh, intrigue.” My gaze lowers to his hand. He has five seconds before my shoe strikes his man-parts.
Zach seems to sense my hostility, because he drops his hand and steps back. “I heard you and Hayden ended things.”
“Yeah. So?”
“He’s pretty torn up about it.” One dark, mocking eyebrow arches. “Gee, I hope it wasn’t because of me—”
“You wish.” I glare at him and the ugliness in my tone surprises me a little. “So don’t lose any sleep over it.”
“Oh, I won’t.” Smirking evilly, Zach rolls his head back and forth, the bones in his neck cracking. “I tried to warn you. Hayden can’t date people like you.”
Shees
h. Who crapped in his box of chocolates?
“You don’t know shit,” I snap.
“So tough!” He chuckles, swinging the backpack over his shoulder. “I guess I can see why Hayden liked you…as in past tense.”
Zach is showing off his inner-jerk. He might be Hayden’s younger brother, but I want nothing more than to see his severed head on a spike. And I will not be bullied by this asshat. Especially if he’s the jerk leaving me those warnings in my locker.
He’s just became my number one suspect.
“If you’re trying to warn me to stay away from your brother again, then you’re in for a rude awakening, buddy. I’m not who you think I am, and your stupid threats aren’t going to work.”
“Whoa, Miss Krispy Kreme, don’t get all heated.” He sizes me up. “So you’re not the chubby chick who’s dying to get back with my bro?”
Zach is such a royal douchebag that I want to slam my fist into his smug face. And I’ve lost seven pounds since I started dating Hayden! While I might not resemble a Sports Illustrated swimsuit model, I’m quite happy with my size fourteen shape.
“I thought you were an intelligent race, or did it skip a generation?” I ask, propping a fist on my hip. “Blackmail won’t work on me, dumbass.”
“It’s time to move on.” Zach waves one hand in the air. “All your pathetic problems solved. Ta-da.”
He doesn’t deny it. He must be the blackmailer. Case solved!
“I don’t get why you care so much. Or are you having trouble dealing with your own insecurities?” I glance down at his crotch. “Because from what I can see by those basketball shorts, you ain’t got much to brag about.”
The tips of Zach’s ears turn bright red. His hands clench at his sides, as if he’s trying not to punch a wall. Or maybe me.
Before he can say or do anything, the doors behind him burst open and out walks Hayden.
SIX
When Hayden notices his brother and me in the empty corridor, he grinds his teeth, and slowly, almost warily moves toward us. Zach has his arms crossed, looking extra surly, and I’m pretty sure that I have steam coming out of my pores.
