Page 41 of The Rivals' Touch

I gaze out my window at a young girl, no older than ten, in the car opposite. She’s happy – carefree, even. Her eyes meet mine as my father drops his hand to my thigh.

“You’re a very, very good girl!”

The child waves; my father’s hand squeezes.

The light finally turns green, and Father receives another phone call. It’s an important one by the sounds of it. His hand leaves my thigh, and air rushes back into my lungs. It’s all I can do not to weep with relief.

“Tell him that if it’s not sorted out by next week, I will personally pay him a visit!”

He spins the wheel, and the school comes into view as we take a left turn down the next road. I’ve never been more relieved to see a high school in my life.

“The figures don’t match.”

We pass a stream of students walking down the sidewalk, the lucky few who live nearby.

As I look in the side mirror, I see a school bus behind us. The driver has his cap pulled down low over his eyes to shield him from the morning sun. I would pay good money to be on the bus right now instead of in this car, next to my volatile father.

“Run it again. I want the numbers emailed over by lunchtime.”

We pull up outside the front building, and my father pays me no attention as I grab my bag from the footwell and exit the car.

I hurry up the front steps and through the open doors. I’m familiar with the school now, and finding my locker in this maze of hallways doesn’t faze me anymore.

Brenda is waiting for me when I round the corner. “You’re earlier than usual. I’m surprised I didn’t have to wait here another”—she checks the time on her phone—“twenty minutes at least.”

I drop my bag between my feet and input the combination in the lock. “My father drove me this morning.”

“I bet it was a nice change not to be in the same car as Zayd.”

I could so easily squeeze the life out of you!

“Yeah…” I grab the books I need before shutting the locker and attempting a smile.

She returns it, but it falls away when her eyes flick down to my mouth. “What happened to your lip?”

I subconsciously touch my finger to the cut. “Oh, that? I’m not sure.”

She looks confused. “You don’t know how you split your lip?”

I’m not good at coming up with believable lies on the spot, so I shake my head. “I noticed it this morning.”

“Looks sore.” She lets it go. “What’s your first class?”

“Math.”

She grimaces. “Better you than me.”

“Hedgewood!” A deep voice calls out behind me, and I roll my eyes as I turn around.

Jacob grins and stops in front of me. Zayd is not far behind, his eyes on his phone.

“Brenda,” Jacob says, and with one flick of his head, she scurries down the hallway.

“You need to stop doing that!” I growl, then look behind him at Zayd. “You got here fast. Weren’t you in your jammies when I left? You know, the ones with Piglet on them.”

“Ha, ha! Very funny,” he drawls, sliding the phone into his back pocket.

Jacob digs something out of his jacket. “I got you a gift.”

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