Page 29 of The Darkest Note

I keep running until my legs give out and all I can do is sink against a locker.

Panic gives way to rationalizing. Now that I’m in the sunlight, now that I feel safe, I’m scrambling for an explanation.

Maybe they were bluffing. Maybe, if I just keep my head down and stay out of their way, they’ll forget all about the target they put on my back. They’ll find someone else to torment.

My heart swells with hope and I latch onto that thread like a drowning bird.

As if hearing my feeble prayers, a disturbance erupts in the hallway.

Phones start chirping.

Thepingsound reverberates like a gong, rushing down to me with finality.

Movement stops.

Chatter turns to thoughtful silence.

Heads dip like marionettes pulled on strings, all answering the lure of their devices.

The foreboding feeling I’d had in The King’s practice room returns. And this time, it’s ten times stronger.

I open my phone and maneuver to the Redwood Prep app. That’s the only app that would send a notification to everyone’s devices at the same time.

“Come on.” I pull the screen down and watch the refresh button. It doesn’t load. “Come on. Come on.” I rub my thumb against the screen, feeling the heat of everyone’s stares.

The stupid phone won’t refresh.

‘Is it her?’

‘It looks like her.’

‘How could she do that?’

One by one, the whispers start. Accusing eyes shoot in my direction, flogging me like whips at the stake.

I straighten to my full height and try to walk through the hallway without looking shaken. With each step I take, the stares get heavier and heavier.

“Dude, itisher.” A pimply-faced freshman points and laughs.

Unable to stand the suspense a second longer, I march right up to him and extend my hand. “Give me your phone.”

“What?”

Without waiting for a response, I snatch the phone from him.

What I see sends a ricochet of dread drumming down my spine.

It’s a photo of me—without my red wig and makeup—and Mr. Mulliez. We’re sitting at a booth at the lounge. It was taken the night he offered me a scholarship to Redwood.

Underneath it is a caption.

‘NEW GIRL BANGS MUSIC TEACHER FOR TICKET INTO REDWOOD’

Bile rises to the back of my throat and I shove the phone back into the freshman’s hands. Stomach roiling, I stumble into the nearest restroom and puke my guts out.

The Kings promised they would break me.

But I didn’t expect the breaking to take innocent people down too.

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