Page 103 of Soul of a Psycho

He’s angry, and I have no doubt he caused the bang, whether that be hitting the wall or her desk.

“Chemicals!”the headmistress shouts now.“Do you know how dangerous—”

“What do you care?! You didn’t care for the last three years.”

I wince on behalf of his mother—at the bite behind his words. I thought they were doing so well after Christmas. What the hell happened? And what about chemicals?

She pauses for a long moment, probably coping with the sting, and when she finally speaks again, she’s lower, calmer, and I have to practically kneel out of my chair to hear.

“I’m closing your P.O, box.”There’s an air of finality to her voice, but it shakes.

“Go ahead.”Cade too is calmer, but not kinder. There’s a challenge behind his words.“You can’t stop me.”

“Stop you from what, Cade?”Her conviction dissolves.“Please, if you won’t talk to me, then talk to Ruth—”

The nurse’s door suddenly opens, and I scramble back into my seat.

“You here for me, honey?” she asks.

I gulp, my heart hammering, and I absently nod and stand. My gaze stays on the headmistress’s door as I straighten my skirt and feign a smile, but I don’t need to hear anymore, anyway. I heard enough. And I think I really do need an aspirin.

Chapter Seventy

Sky

Icheck and then double check the parking lot, making sure Cade’s car is gone, and then take off into the woods. This time I’m prepared and wearing my gym shoes. It’s much easier to traverse the fallen logs, and I’m surprised by how quickly the shack comes into view.

But for all my exertion, my heart suddenly picks up double speed as I slow and tiptoe towards the rickety steps. I eye the top of the door frame for another ax. It looks clear, but I scan the sides and threshold for anything I could be missing, just in case. I don’t know where Cade’s mind is at or how far he’s willing to go to keep people out. Especially if my suspicions are correct. But they can’t be.

I remind myself that I’m only here to put my mind at ease and try to slow my breathing. I’m most likely just drawing conclusions, exacerbated by not being able to talk to him for weeks. My mind is just running wild. That’s all. It’s perfectly normal for him to have a P.O. box and to get packages at said P.O. box. Packages that I overheard his mother saying were filled with chemicals. Packages that I saw with my own two eyes, stamped with hazard labels.

No. Just no.There’s no way they have anything to do with the drawing of the bomb I saw. That would be insane, even for Cade.But then why was he so crazy when I took off with his journal? And what can the headmistress not stop him from doing?

I feel sick despite all my rationalizations, and my tendons constrict as I turn the handle to the shack. I squeeze my eyes shut, waiting for something to decapitate me, but also preparing myself for what I might find. After a second—when nothing impales me—I exhale and tentatively step inside, remembering I don’t have any time to waste, that I have no idea where Cade is and when he will be back.

But my shoulders sag as I take in the disaster before me. It looks nothing like the cozy hideaway I was introduced to, and I don’t know where I’m supposed to start. Packaging materials litter the floor and overturned boxes are piled in the corners. There’s hardly any room to move in the place, and even the bed is piled with empty tubs, duct tape, and teddy bears with their innards ripped out.

My chest tightens. Where has he been sleeping if this is what the shack has become? Blurry tears fill my eyes and I struggle to blink them away. I can’t get distracted. I’m just here to make sure there’s nothing sinister is going on, not to torture myself.

I shuffle forward delicately, afraid he might notice if things are moved, and start turning over some of the mess. The boxes are addressed to Cade Haven, seemingly from multiple recipients, though. Some are abbreviated, and I don’t have a clue who the shipper is, but a lot of them are from CHEMSUPPLIES, which makes my stomach knot.

But I expected that, right? I overheard as much from the headmistress. I nod and move on. I shift a few loose papers on the desk, a graded test from winter, and a packing slip. It’s from one of the abbreviated companies, and I scan the order. None of the items make any sense to me though, and I set it down, my eyes falling on a knocked over plastic tub, black powder spilling out onto the desk.

My palm sweats as I hesitantly dab my finger in the substance. It’s grainy, and I stupidly give it a sniff, as I could figure out what it is. Noxious fumes with an undertone of metal burn my nose, and I rear back, hastily wiping it on my skirt.

This is silly. I don’t even know what I’m looking for, and I gape around the shack, feeling ridiculous. I wouldn’t know bomb materials from science project materials. I may have always had to be smart, but Cade is smart of his own choice. I mean, he made Valedictorian, and if that doesn’t scream that he’s smarter than me, I don’t know what does. He’s probably the only one on campus who could tell the difference between what this stuff is actually for, anyway.

If he would justtalkto me, I would feel a lot better. For more reasons than one.

My eyes start to well up again as I spot one of his hoodies, thrown over a shovel and forgotten. I know just what it would smell like, and the tempting scent gives me a twinge of embarrassment. The ones I have are already losing his smell and… if I can’t havehim…

I shift to take it with me, burying how pathetic it makes me and telling myself I should at least get something out of my efforts, but my sneaker snags me in place.

A plastic tarp has wrapped around the rubber of my sole, and I kick, trying to shake it off. But I’m quick to frustrate and god, why is this place a mess?! Where has he been if he hasn’t been in class? I hate not having the answers. And Ruby’s little comments about ‘another girl’ haven’t been helping. I bend with a huff, ready to rip myself free when…

The plastic is smooth, perfectly laid over something under the desk. Oddly, it’s the only neat thing in here, and my heart picks up again as I gently tug it towards me. It crinkles loudly but easily slips away, and my breath gets stuck in my chest.

No, no, no, no.

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