Page 2 of Killer


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I glance at the clock… again. Ugh! Only two minutes have passed since the last time I checked. Today is the slowest day in the history of school. It’s as if time stopped and is on a constant loop of the most boring ten minutes in the history of my existence. When the bell finally rings, I waste no time leaping from my chair and darting for the hall.

“Britt! Wait!”

Darn it!

My best friend, Reece, catches me the second my shoe hits the ground. Whatever, I’m in too much of a hurry to stop and talk, so I continue down the hall. If she has something to say, she can do it while I head to my locker to get my stuff.

“What is your hurry, Britt? Pants on fire or something?” she huffs, increasing her pace to keep up with me.

I dodge the other students, all of whom are eager to start the weekend. It takes forever to weave through them to get to my locker all the way on the opposite side of the school.

My face heats up and I duck my head to keep Reece from seeing. “Nothing. I, uh, just really need to get home on time today. No big deal.” My casual shrug ends up more like a stilted jerk of my head.

Reece’s hand darts out, gripping my upper arm, yanking me to a stop. “Hold up, Britton. I want to talk about tonight. Are you coming out with us?”

I’m so frustrated I want to scream. Friday is the only day of the week I get my fill of my favorite eye candy. Those few, meager minutes have to last seven whole days before I get another hit. And now my, used-to-be best friend is going to make me miss my weekly dose.

Agitated, I agree to going out later so she’ll let me go. “Call me, okay? I’ll talk to my mom about getting dropped off at your house.”

Reece grins and gives me a hug. “See? I’m easy? All you needed to do was say yes!” She releases me and flounces down the hall, flipping her long hair over her shoulder. As I stuff my books in my locker and grab my bag, Reece turns around, walking backwards as she calls out, “Don’t forget, Britton!”

I can’t help but laugh at my friend. Spunky, redheaded, and gorgeous, Reece Fielding and I have been inseparable since the second grade. Our dads are both executives at the same Fortune 500 company in Atlanta, so we’ve known each other practically forever.

I pull my phone out of my bag and check the time. Shoot! With a gasp, I hustle out the front door of the school, down the steps. If I’m really lucky, Keller will still be in the parking lot and I’ll be able to get a glimpse of his perfect, gorgeous face before he hops in his car and leaves.

I snort behind my hand, holding back a giggle. A freshman crushing on a senior—a super hot, super popular senior. I’m a walking 80s movie cliché.

But the heart wants what the heart wants, and mine wants Keller Keating. Badly. I giggle again and this time, my cheeks burn as my mind wanders to my now familiar fantasy of Keller and me together, kissing as he pulls me into his strong arms. How ridiculous! Like that would ever happen.

As long as I only look, no harm can come of it. Besides, Keller Keating would never notice a girl like me. I’m not ugly by a long shot, but I’m no supermodel. The girls I see Keller leave with every Friday since school started three weeks ago are taller, thinner, and older than me. In other words, they’re women, whereas I’m stuck in half-girl, half-woman territory. Not exactly Keller Keating girlfriend material.

My feet hit the pavement and I whirl around, scanning the remaining cars. Already, the lot is nearly empty. On Fridays, people clear out fast, staff and students alike, the administration usually the only ones left. I don’t see Keller’s very conspicuous blue sports car among the few vehicles left in front of the school and sag in disappointment. My bag slides off my shoulder to land on the ground with a thud.

“Damn,” I mutter.

“Hey.”

I startle at the unexpected voice. When I turn around, a girl I recognize from around school but have never actually met is standing about a foot away.

“Hey,” I respond.

The girl squints, her perfect little nose wrinkling up as she shades the sun from her face with a hand. Her eyes immediately catch my attention. They’re the most shocking shade of silver I’ve ever seen. Literally silver.

“You okay?” the girl asks. “Are you looking for someone?”

I stare at this unknown, silver-eyed girl. I’ve seen her here and there in the hallways since school started three weeks ago. I think we’re both freshmen, but we don’t run in the same circles and we’re not in any of the same classes. North Atlanta Prep is exclusive, but not exactly small.

“Ummmm, my ride,” I stammer, not wanting to admit I’m out here stalking a guy who doesn’t even know I exist. “I’m waiting for my driver, I mean. He’s not here.”

Come to think of it, my ride isn’t here yet. Where is he? Charlie is never late. I hope he’s okay, though he’s probably just stuck in hideous Atlanta traffic.

“My ride isn’t here either,” she says. “We can wait together.” Her face is so hopeful I can’t say no. Besides, where am I going to go without a ride?

I sit on the steps next to her and pull out my phone. “I should call Charlie. Ummmm, my driver.”

She nods, her dark ponytail bobbing behind her.

“Is there anyone you can call for you?” I ask.

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