Page 436 of Tis the Season to be Bullied

For the first time in a long time, I’mhappy.

Chapter 46

Jude

I wake up late on Saturday morning and wander downstairs to get my breakfast out of the microwave. The house is empty and too quiet. Where did everyone go? I call my dad’s mobile, but he doesn’t answer. I try Harper, but her phone is off. I don’t have Diana’s number, and Rosie doesn’t own a phone.

Usually this wouldn’t bother me in the least, but after what Harper and I did last night, I’m struck with a sense of foreboding so strong, I get the fuck out of the house before I lose my mind.

I can go anywhere—the mall, a coffee shop, maybe check out a four-wheeler so Dad knows which one to buy me. But I go back to school. I only join the team on their Saturday morning practice sessions during playoffs. Since I have a fully kitted gym at home, I don’t need to come all the way here to work out. It’s a wasted drive just for an hour-long practice.

But I’m in a weird mood this morning. I’m craving human interaction, and since I woke up to a ghost house, this is my best bet at finding some.

There are a few cars in the parking lot, some I recognize and some I don’t. I guess there’s something else happening too—maybe cheerleading practice or band rehearsals.

When I spot my Dad’s Audi, I freeze up.

What the hell is he doing here?

I’m so freaked out, I go over to check the registration, and put my hands on the window to peer inside as if the license wasn’t confirmation enough.

My phone vibrates. I take it out and frown at the caller ID.

DAD

Huh. What a coincidence. I answer with a puzzled, “Hi.”

“Jude? Where are you?”

“Next to your car.”

“You’re...what?”

I open my mouth, but my dad carries on talking. “Never mind. I need you to get in your car and meet me at school.”

“I’m already here.”

“Here where?” He sounds frustrated, and that gets my heart rate going.

“Dad, what’s wrong?”

“You’rehere? At Cinderhart High?”

“Yeah. I’m right outside, next to your car. What are you doing here?”

“I’m...” he trails off, clears his throat. “Meet me in the locker room.” He ends the call before I can reply. I shake my head and glance back at my truck. I should get my duffle bag, but something tells me to leave it behind. I can always run back and fetch it to change for practice.

Which is already five minutes in, so I’d better get a move on. I pocket my Range Rover’s keys and trot around to the field’s guest entrance so I don’t have to track all the way through the school to get to the locker room.

My heart stutters, and my trot slows into a jagged walk before I stop.

Why is no one on the field?

Oh my God. Dad’s going to announce my scholarship to the team.

My skin prickles, pride rushing through me to warm my cheeks and puff out my chest. Is there a surprise party waiting for me in the locker room? That would explain why everyone was gone this morning—they obviously came through early to set up.

I punch the air, bottom lip caught between my teeth in a ruthless bite as I jog the rest of the way into the locker room.

---