Page 131 of The Broken Note

I gasp and the phone slips from my hand. It clatters to the ground. I hear the crack of glass. If I were in my right mind, I’d be horrified. I try to be careful with my phone because I can’t afford to fix it if it breaks.

But my mind is whirring too fast.

I cover my mouth with my palms, eyes wide and frantic.

Sol?

Sol… is the culprit.

At once, a wave of memories washes over me. Sol’s, heavy, agonized glances in my direction. His constant attempts to tell me something.

‘Cadence, we need to talk.’

‘I hate keeping the truth from you.’

‘Can we talk?’

I kept brushing him off. I was so sucked into Dutch, Jarod Cross, Serena, and the drama with mom that I didn’t even stop to…

Dropping to my knees, I flip the phone over and stare at the broken screen.

The video is frozen on the scene where Sol is facing the camera.

It’s really him.

But why? What would make Sol do something like that? He had the protection of Dutch, Finn and Zane Cross. Those boys ruined my life and Mr. Mulliez’s to get Sol back to school. They were never going to let him leave Redwood Prep.

My fingers close around the cell phone and I hold it tight, ignoring the scrape of the broken glass against my palm. Shoving the device in my purse, I press my hand against the bathroom stall, struggling to catch my breath.

At that moment, a group of girls enter the bathroom in a cloud of giggles and perfume.

“What’s so funny?”

“She snuck into Lit again.”

“Why?”

“It’s the only class Zane Cross attends.”

I hear the spritz of perfume and a rustle of fabric.

“He didn’t seem like the smart type.”

“Of course he’s smart. He never did his homework, but he used to have these epic book arguments with Miss Jamieson.”

“They haven’t done that in a while though.”

“Yeah, Miss J doesn’t call him out in class anymore. Zane doesn’t call her out either. He just kind of glares at her until the bell rings and then he leaves. It’s so weird.”

I suck in a deep breath and push the door open.

The girls gasp in shock when they see me. At once, they dip their heads and greet me like I’m the queen or something.

I ignore them and shuffle to the sink, pooling my hands under the water in the faucet. The reflection in the mirror reveals my long brown hair, pinched lips and restless eyes. I look as stressed out as I feel.

“Um…” One of the girls approaches me like I’m a wild animal. “You’re New Girl, right? Dutch Cross’s girlfriend? I’ve seen him—uh…carryingyou through the hall before.”

Great.

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