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I immediately tense, preparing myself to have to relive the incident of being in the janitor’s closet. Then my head snaps to the side to see who’s got me, and the tension unravels from my body.
Hunter is beside me, all cheery and full of smiles, like he usually is.
“We’re going to class,” I tell him as we continue to wander down the hallway with his arm looped through mine.
Jax is walking close beside me on the other side of me, and I feel safe wedged between the two of them. Although, Hunter’s appearance has made the staring increase.
“Or, well, I am,” I tell him. “I don’t think anyone has math with me, do they?”
“Unfortunately not,” Jax says as he moves his books into his other hand.
Sighing, I tuck my schedule into my back pocket, secretly wishing I didn’t have to go to class alone. Then I roll my eyes at myself. Since when can’t I handle going to class alone? I’ve done it a ton of times before.
“What teacher?” Hunter asks me as he swings us around a couple making out against their lockers.
Well, at least that’s two people not staring at us.
“Mr. J.” Jax’s shoulder lightly touches mine as he moves closer to me to dodge around a cheerleader. Once he gets around her, he keeps his shoulder resting against mine.
And that’s how I get walked to class with Hunter’s arm looped through mine and Jax’s shoulder attached to mine. It’s a nice way to get walked to class, and by the time we arrive, I’m feeling pretty decent.
After Hunter unloops his arm from mine, he faces me. “Text any of us if you need anything at all, okay?”
I nod, trying to conceal my nerves of walking into class alone.
Get over this, Raven. You’re a big girl.
So, mustering every ounce of courage I have, I walk through the door, hoping everything will be fine. And it is for a while. That is … until I receive a text. One single text, but it’s enough to ruin my entire day.
Unknown: I see you, Ravenlee, and I know what you did. But, do they?
8
Raven
By the timelunch rolls around, I’m in a sullen mood. And worried. Not just because of the text, but because I’m worried that, when Hunter tries to work on tracking down the sender, he’ll see the text and might ask questions. Or that this person sending the text will somehow tell them since I took the last message they sent as a subtle threat to do that.
I guess that’s the one good thing about me being off the grid or whatever. Sure, the guys said they found some vague stuff, but I doubt they know the whole story, like how I was accused of murdering my parents, of the state I was found in that day, of my time in the psychiatric ward. After Hunter looks at the texts, though, he might ask. And then what? I just lie or tell them the truth and cross my fingers they don’t look at me like I’m the freak that I am?
Murderer.
Loser.
Disappointment.
To add to the craptasticness, my side is beginning to hurt like a real bitch. I do my best to disregard the pain as third period comes to an end and I make my way out of the classroom to go get lunch. Or, well, play spy.
When I exit the room, I see a familiar face. Blonde hair, blue eyes, basically the female version of Hunter.
“Hey.” Harlow waves at me as she practically skips over to me.
I’m starting to think the skipping thing is a family trait, since Hunter does it, too.
She’s got her hair in a high ponytail, is wearing the coolest plaid sneakers, and she has a huge smile on her face.
“So, how’s your second day going?” she asks as we start down the hallway with her hands tucked into the back pockets.
“Not too bad.” At least, it’s not if you don’t count the note I got in first period and the text. But, to be honest, this is definitely not the worst day I’ve ever had. In fact, all that is pretty mild. “Well, except for I got a headache in math.”
