Page 50 of The Sins of Noelle

Her eyes widened at that intrusive thought. Swallowing hard, she looked around the auditorium, taking in the smiles, warm hugs and sweet words of encouragement.

Yes, she would have rather been ordinary and havethat. What was her talent if she couldn't share it with anyone?

As soon as that question arose in her mind, it dawned on her what she'd been missing all along in her music. Why it had been technically flawless but at times bleak and aimless.

Her music had always been composed at a distance—always about things around her but never around her.

On one hand, that could be attributed to her minimal experience of the world and a lack of range of emotions. Yet on the other hand, it was the clear manifestation of someone who was petrified of rejection—of putting herself out there only to be judged and deemed unworthy.

She'd been told that enough all her life about her perceived personality. Noelle didn't think she could bear it if she was criticized for her inner thoughts too—for that which she held most dear.

With one last look around, she sighed as she stood up, taking advantage of the recess to head backstage and eat something before the piano event came up.

The backstage area was busy with students preparing for their acts.

Noelle made her way through an animated throng of people, heading for the back where she'd left her bag and packed lunch. She didn't miss the slight sneers directed her way, or the belligerent gazes.

This was a competition. Of course everyone considered her the enemy. She tried not to take that to heart too much, instead thinking of it as a compliment. It meant that the other students were aware she wasthatgood.

Making herself even smaller than she was, she dragged her bag into a corner, taking a seat on a chair and proceeding to look for her lunch.

Her stomach rumbled in hunger, but there was also the ever present anxiety that interfered with her appetite. Still, she needed to eat something to preserve her strength.

As she opened her bag, searching through its contents, a foul smell assailed her.

Her brows knit together as she moved her head to the side to avoid some of the stench.

"What…" she whispered. It couldn't be her food. She'd packed her lunch herself in the morning, and she'd used fresh ingredients.

Yet as she placed her hand further inside, she felt a viscous substance coating her hand, the feel of it making her skin erupt in goosebumps. But it wasn't just that substance that she came into contact with. There was something else. Something solid and…

Without any preliminaries, she grabbed whatever it was, pulling it out from the bag.

Years of being mocked and scrutinized had given her the experience to know what to expect—or at least to prepare herself. Before she even saw what she held in her hand she was aware of the sudden silence and the fact that everyone was staring at her.

Immediately, though everything rebelled inside of her, she schooled her features. And when she pulled the rotting body of a rat—a big, corpulent rat—she barely stopped herself from spilling the contents of her stomach on the ground.

Her hand came out covered in blood, guts, and some noxious substance that made the rat even more disgusting—was it feces? Noelle didn't want to ponder that. Not when all eyes were on her.

What were they expecting? That she would swoon? Be sick? Or that she would devolve into hysterics and decide she would withdraw from the competition?

On the outside, she put on the strongest front. She lifted her chin up, straightened her spine and looked everyone in the eye.

Low gasps erupted in the room, just as whispers traveled from one end to another—some calling her disgusting, a freak, and some a psycho. Because how could someonenotreact at seeing the dead rat in her bag?

Of course, maybe she'd murdered it herself—another rumor that started floating around.

"Rat killer."

Noelle was aware this must have been a coordinated attack. Going by the way they were all banding together against her, she wagered they must have thought they could deter her from entering the competition with this little prank.

She took a couple of steps, stopping in front of the crowd.

"I gather you're not a fan of dead rat flavor?" she asked with a straight face, befuddling the other students even more.

From the corner of her eye, she could see Ann Marie at the end of the room, watching her smugly.

Noelle's lip twitched, as did something deep within her—something that wanted blood.

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