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Screw it; he did it first.
We used to tell each other everything. A few years ago, I would’ve confided in him in a heartbeat. One day, we were best friends, and the next, we weren’t. He didn’t want anything to do with me.
I’mon my way to deposit some books in my locker and then hand in the journalism assignment to Mr. Davey. He said we could drop it off at his desk at any point before his class this week, and to be honest, I want to get rid of the paper. I forced myself to stick to the facts—the way the press reported the case—and not let my emotional reaction bleed into my analysis.
I wade through the sea of students without really paying attention to my surroundings. Sleep has gotten less and less since this whole thing started.
Suddenly, an arm slings around my shoulder from behind. My mind has lost its ability to think logically, and I react on instinct. Spinning around, I start pushing the assailant into the lockers with my forearm against their throat. Thankfully, the brain fog clears, and I realize that I am not being attacked, but greeted, by my best friend. What I was about to do dawns on me before I completely embarrass myself in front of everyone—or worse, hurt Denielle.
Hands in front of herself, Den gawks at me with wide eyes. "Whoa, babe! What’s going on with you?"
Shit. Crap. Shit!
I mumble, "Uh...nothing, sorry. Just tired."
I try to turn away, but she grabs my arm and moves me to face her again. She has her typical that’s-bullshit-and-you-know-it glare: head tilted slightly, one eyebrow lifted, lips pursed. "Wanna try again?"
She wouldn’t be my best friend if she didn’t see through my lame excuse, but I don’t want to talk about it—I can’t. I have no idea what’s going on with me, and I’m not ready to share my concern about potentially losing my mind over a homework assignment.
"I just didn’t sleep well." She doesn’t believe me, but she doesn’t press any further. She would never do that to me in the middle of the school.
What the fuck just happened?
I was watching Lilly from the other end of the hallway when Denielle came up from behind and hugged her. Lilly could’ve done some serious damage.
Spence has been working on that move with her during self-defense lessons. During a sparring session, she once almost crushed my windpipe with that maneuver. I hurt for two days.
Being briefly distracted by the memory, I catch myself before a grin shows on my face. Lilly appears to be your stereotypical high school girl. The years of gymnastics and martial arts have given her an athletic build. Her long blonde hair and minimal makeup just enhances the innocent look, but behind the five-foot-four girl hides a lethal weapon.
I wantto know what’s going on, but when I take a step in their direction, Kat puts her hand on my arm. "Where are you going, sweetie?"
I peer down at her and exhale slowly, forcing a smile on my face. "Nowhere."
I fucking loathe her pet names for me, and lately, everything with her just annoys me. I put my good-boyfriend face on and pretend to listen to her conversation with Jenny, one of my teammate’s girlfriends, about some new boots she has to have and her dad refuses to buy her because they cost more than a small used car. I have the urge to bang my head into the nearest locker.
Make. Her. Stop.
Taking another glance in Lilly’s direction, I notice them walking away now.
I think of Sunday and the way she looked at me when I came home from the gym to grab my clothes for the week. All my clothes at Wes’s were dirty, and I hadn’t had time to wash them yet.
I didn’t expect her to be in the kitchen that late. One second, she stared at me, and the next, she held onto her head, eyes squeezed shut. I dropped my bag and took two long strides toward her, but I stopped myself from touching her at the last moment. I wanted to grab her shoulders, demand to know what was wrong, but her eyes opened, and she instantly shut down. This is all my fault. She used to tell me everything, and something is obviously wrong with her. These days, she would rather swallow her tongue than talk to me.
Understandably.
I need to find out what’s going on.
Chapter Four
Over the nextweek and a half, I’m convinced I am losing my mind.
The school team often uses Butler’s gym for practice sessions so we don’t have to share the gym with all the other teams at school. After our mandatory practice session on Wednesday, I procrastinate in the shower, and everyone is gone by the time I walk to my Jeep. I’m almost at the driver’s side door when I glance over to the small park across the street. Just a small, fenced-in playground with two slides, some swings, and a merry-go-round. It’s freezing. Yet, kids are still playing there, bundled up in snowsuits and oblivious to the cold, while their parents or sitters look beyond miserable. A little girl is running toward a woman who catches her, and the girl squeals in delight when she spins her in a circle.
Thankfully, I’ve already reached my car when it hits me. I lean against the side, knowing what comes next, and wait for the agony to subside. This one confuses me more than the previous migraines.
I’m running toward a woman. Who is she? I’m wracking my brain, trying to remember if I have ever seen her. She seems to be in her early thirties, long blonde hair, fair skin. She is dressed in jeans, a white cap-sleeve blouse, and sandals. I come up blank. Maybe a friend of Mom? But why would I run toward her like that?
The following Sunday,Dad knocks on my door, peeking his head in. "Wanna go to the range with me?"
