Total pages in book: 155
Estimated words: 152045 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 760(@200wpm)___ 608(@250wpm)___ 507(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 152045 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 760(@200wpm)___ 608(@250wpm)___ 507(@300wpm)
I wonder if anyone ever dives down to rob her ghost. There has to be a couple of hundred dollars down there, considering I never see anyone pay in pennies. As if the more you pay, the more good grace you’ll buy. It doesn’t make sense, though. To give a Pirate girl that much reverence. I wonder how the tradition started at all.
Exiting the bridge, I turn left, and run parallel to the river again, keeping my speed down since I don’t have my license on me.
Plus, I want to keep the Rebels far enough ahead so that they’ve turned right off High Street, toward the Caruthers’ house, before they see me head in the opposite direction. My necklace was never at Hunter and Kade’s house. I simply wanted to get them together, but since Hunter decided to bring everyone, he can walk into the ambush I have no doubt Kade will have waiting.
Making my way into town, I slow a little, on the lookout for my parents’ cars. I pass Rivertown, not seeing Kade’s truck or any of his friends, which means they’ve bolted to his house already to head off Hunter.
I race by the unremarkable expanse of red brick between Rivertown and Frosted, Quinn’s bakery, only me and a handful of other people knowing the old speakeasy that hides between the two businesses. Quinn doesn’t know yet. Rivertown’s owner doesn’t know. Hunter doesn’t know.
Reaching the Stop sign, I see no sight of the Rebels and swing left, kicking it up a gear, and then another. I quickly cut a sharp right into the empty school parking lot.
The moon gleams white off the second-story windows, and I race around the stadium, skidding to a halt in front of the same door that Aro and I broke into on Sunday night.
Parking, I hop off the bike and dig in my pocket for a pick set. Please, please, please… Reaching the door, I slide the pieces in, find the lever, and hold my breath as I nudge it. I twist the handle, the door opens, and I smile at how proud Aro would be.
Slipping the tools back into my pocket, I whip open the door and step inside with a little spin, closing it behind me. I jog down the hall, opening the flashlight on my phone and pushing into the locker room. I move toward Aro’s and my locker, dialing in the combination and opening the black steel door. I flash my light on the green ribbon and grab the necklace with a fossil of my mom’s childhood thumbprint that no one ever actually wears. I stuff it into my jeans pocket and slam the locker door, running back the way I came in.
I grip the locker room door handle and yank.
But it doesn’t open.
My heart skips.
I pull harder. “What the fuck?” I whisper.
I tug again and again, the locker room door I just came in through is now locked.
I press my ear to the door, hearing the squeak of someone’s shoes against the floor on the other side.
“Hey!” I call out. “Hello!”
Is a janitor still here? Maybe they’re just closing up.
I grab the handle with both hands, growling as I try to wrench the door free. “Please…”
My phone starts ringing with notifications. Then a buzz.
“Hello?” I yell as I pound my fist against the door. “Let me out!”
A low, distant howl echoes followed by laughter from a separate voice.
“Who’s there?” I cry out. “What’s going on?”
My phone goes off, one beep after another, and I pull it out, scrolling through.
I tap on a pic of me running through the school just minutes ago, and while it’s blurry, it’s unmistakable. The caption reads B&E.
Breaking and Entering. It’s posted from an account I don’t recognize. The location: Shelburne Falls High School.
I expel all my breath, closing my eyes for a moment. “Shit.”
Whirling around, I flee to the other end of the locker room, bolt through the door to the gym, and run across the basketball court.
I barrel through the door, into the school hallway, and past the display cases with all the alumni shit, memories, and throwback lockers.
But I notice a blue line spray-painted down the glass case. I slow, letting my gaze trail farther down, seeing that it continues across the office doors and over the walls.
My stomach sinks. My phone continues to buzz and beep.
“Oh, no.” I stop, taking in the blue swirls and the Xs sprayed over all the players’ pictures on the bulletin board. “No, no, no…”
They followed me.
They didn’t go to Hunter’s house.
Laughter echoes from down one of the side hallways as red and blue lights flash in my peripheral. I whip around, seeing two cop cars race across the parking lot and hear a door slam shut far off to my left.
“Shit,” I mouth, closing my eyes.