Page 92 of The Forbidden Note

GREY

I arrange my books, level them out by tapping them twice on the table and set them down neatly.

Musical chimes ring through the classroom, signaling the beginning of class.

Students file in through the doors, more excited than usual. A low buzz fills the air, gathering to the ceiling like an invisible storm of anticipation.

“Settle down,” I say. “Class is about to start.”

No one pays me any attention.

My eyebrows tighten. Things were awkward in my AP English class, but I’d expected that. Thankfully, none of my students asked me any inappropriate questions.

This class is Literature 101, a very different demographic. What little respect these students had for me is eclipsed by whatever happened before they walked in here. I hope it has nothing to do with this morning’s leaked photo. If I’m lucky, they’re doing normal teenaged things like getting ready for the masquerade ball.

When Redwood throws a school dance, they hire high-end caterers, fly in professional DJs, and work with world renown event planners. Redwood dances are engineered for the students to take pictures and flaunt their wealth all over social media.

Motioning to someone in the front row, I ask, “What’s going on?”

“The Kings fought the football team in the hallway. Coach caught them and took them to the principal’s office.”

“What?” My eyes bug.

A stark silence falls on the crowd.

All the students turn to look at me.

Clutching at the front of my shirt, I chew on my bottom lip. “Uh, everyone, I understand that there was an…incidentin the hallway, but there will be a quiz today, so I need you to focus on the lesson.”

No one responds.

“Understand?” I prod.

“Yes, Miss Jamieson.”

They speak in unison.

I crack my book open and guide them through the lecture, but I’m far too distracted by thoughts of Zane. Did Harris punish him severely? As far as I remember, Redwood has a zero-violence policy. Throwing hands on campus equals an immediate expulsion.

I don’t get it. Why would he start a fight in the hallway?

After class, I walk to the cafeteria. Whispers follow me everywhere. The students watch me differently. Laughter cackles when I leave the lunch line. Male students ogle my body in an obvious show of desire.

The sentiment is clear:now that Zane Cross had her, she’s free game.

I thought I’d at least havesomeoneon my side, but no one seems to believe I’m innocent. At this point, I don’t know if admitting I’m Zane’s step-sister would make a difference.

In that sense, Redwood is the same now as it was then. Having so much money, the rich have to manufacture their own drama to keep themselves entertained.

In Rome, they threw the poor into a colosseum to fight.

Today, they feed on other people’s pain, near blood-thirsty for scandal. Lapping at the downfall of those they deem unworthy. Anything to feed their little egos.

The musical chimes ring.

I’m more relieved than the students.

Quickly stuffing my books into my bag, I hurry to my next class and pass Harris’s office on the way. If Ihappento run into Zane and check on him, there’s no harm done.

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