Page 26 of Dare To Break

“Shh, don’t attract his attention.” A girl’s voice chastises the original speaker.

“Why not? He’s just a kid, like the rest of us.”

My lips twist. A kid. I stopped being a kid when I turned fourteen. Sometimes I feel ancient, like I’ve lived a thousand lifetimes.

“Is it true you crucified a cat?”

And there it is.

I turn slowly and let my gaze track over the small group clustered together, staring at me. There are two faces I recognize. The rest all look fresh-faced, young, and fucking terrified. The two girls clutch at the guys, and the guys try to hide how much they wish one of them hadn’t called my name.

I don’t answer the question. I just smile and lift a finger to my lips, then wink. One step, two, a third, and I’m directly in front of them. They’re on the edge of flight. All it will take is …

I lean forward. “Run,” I whisper … and they do.

The girls squeal, grab the hands of the boys closest to them and bolt. The remaining three stare at me, at each other, and then dash after their friends.

I watch them go, then turn back and continue my walk, whistling quietly beneath my breath.

The room I share with Kellan is empty when I get there, so I grab my towel, a change of clothes and take a shower. Each of the dorm rooms has its own bathroom. Our parents pay for the best, so no communal shower areas for any of us. Even the cafeteria is manned by quality chefs you’d be more likely to find in restaurants.

And thinking about food, it must almost be time for the evening meal menu. Hopefully, Kellan will be back by the time I’m out of the shower and we can head down to eat. I can go alone, but I’ve been stared at enough for one day.

Chapter 17

Arabella

Kneeling on my bed, I pull the first photograph out of my folder and stick it to the wall. I’m trying to distract myself from the jumpiness that’s clung to me since my run the other day. After hearing about my scare, Lacy and Jace insisted it was probably just a rabbit, and I was letting Brad’s words about Churchill Bradley’s ghost get to me. Their words haven’t done much to soothe my nerves. But I can admit, to myself at least, that after the stories about the dares and ghosts, I guess it left me a little spooked.

Amanda’s face grins up at me from the image I’ve pinned to the wall, her eyes twinkling with happiness as she hugs me tightly. It was taken only a few weeks before I left.

Why does it feel like it’s been an eternity since then? With everything that’s been happening, I haven’t had a moment to really stop and think. Now with the silence of my empty dorm room around me, emotions rush in.

I miss my best friend.

She was someone to confide in. Someone who understood what I was feeling.

Home is gone.

Homesickness washes over me in a deep clinging wave. I know that I’m longing for a place that’s no longer there. A past that part of me naïvely believed would never change. But it’s hard not to. I’m alone, away from everything I’ve ever known.

It has become quickly apparent that I don’t have anything in common with Lacy and her cheerleading friends. She’s tried to talk me into trying out for the team, but it’s something that doesn’t interest me.

There’s a little voice in the back of my head telling me I’m not good enough to be here. I’m not one of them. They live in a different world where they’ve never had to worry about where their next meal is coming from or if they can afford a new pair of shoes.

I feel lost. Adrift in a sea of unfamiliar faces, and I don’t know what to do.

I reach for the next photo, glancing over at Lacy’s side of the room. She’s already adorned her wall with photos, inspirational quotes, and postcards. Her perfect little life set out for everyone to see. I shouldn’t feel jealous, but I do.

Abandoning what I’m doing, I twist around on the bed with my knees pulled up to my chest and stare at the wall. I toy with the tiny heart charm dangling from my bracelet and wonder what my best friend is doing right now.

We haven’t texted in a few days.

We used to text constantly.

Now that’s all changed.

I need a sense of normality. The sound of a safe and familiar voice to shake me out of the doubts and darkness inside my head. I snatch my phone up off the mattress and hit dial on her number.

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