That was what was most important.
Speaking of which, I had to read the chapter assigned in history. I ended up reading ahead, until I heard the garage door open below. Closing the textbook, I rolled over and turned off my light, knowing that Carl or Rosa wouldn’t come in if they thought I was asleep. Too many months of me not sleeping had made them wary of ever risking the chance of waking me up.
Just as I started to doze off, my cell dinged from where it rested on the nightstand. My arm shot out like a bullet and I snatched it up, my heart leaping into my throat.
There were two words texted from an unknown, local number.
Night, Mouse.
Chapter 5
The following morning I could practically see the wheels of doom churning behind Rosa’s eyes as she quizzed me on why I’d asked her what I had the day before.
I should’ve kept my mouth shut.
Rosa was brilliant and she was as observant as a high-strung cat, and the fact I was asking her to translate what she informed me that morning sounded like Puerto Rican had her little ears twitching.
I’d stared at that text message—those two words—for a ridiculous amount of time. Absolutely paralyzed by...by the infinite amount of things I could’ve texted back that by the time I settled on a similar response, it was past one in the morning, and I was too worried about waking him up to respond.
I was such a dork. Seriously.
Now I was sleepy and I learned pretty quickly that trying to navigate the crowded halls of the high school while half-asleep could’ve been a plot straight out of one of the dystopian novels I’d read.
Dumping my speech textbook into the steel-gray tomb of my locker, I grabbed my first two classes’ texts, knowing I’d have time to swing by to switch out books later. I closed the door, doing everything in my power not to think about seeing Rider while telling myself that if Keira talked to me today, I would totally respond like a normal person. The door got stuck. Sighing, I pulled it out and put a little more effort into slamming it shut. It latched this time. Satisfied, I hitched up my bag and started to turn.
“You?”
Twisting at the waist, I searched out the sound of the voice and then I saw her. The girl from speech class. The girl who had touched Rider in a way that said that happened a lot and Rider was okay with it.
“It’s you.” Her brown eyes narrowed. “I want to live a life of denial right now, but it’s really you.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the girl with the tiny braids who’d said hi to me yesterday stop a few feet from us, eyeing the locker this girl stood in front of. She backpedaled and spun in the opposite direction.
Oh, man, that wasn’t a good sign.
The girl in front of me pursed glossy pink lips. “You have no idea who I am, do you?”
Slowly, I shook my head.
“I know who you are, and not because you’re in my speech class. I just can’t believe it’s you,” she continued. “I figured you’d be dead or something by now.”
My heart dropped to my feet. Second day of school, and I was already getting death threats?
The strap of her beat-up, olive-green messenger bag slipped an inch on her shoulder. “I’m Rider’s girlfriend,” she said flatly.
Oh.
Oh.
Well, that did explain the touching.
There was a weird sensation in my chest. Wasn’t quite disappointment. More like acceptance. Of course, I figured as much yesterday when I saw them walking into class. And he was gorgeous. This girl was stunning. It made sense, even to someone like me who had no experience with the whole boyfriend-girlfriend thing. But I did watch TV. I read books. I had Ainsley. I knew Rider’s relationship with this girl made sense.
She eyed me speculatively, like she was trying to figure something out. “He’s talked about—”
“What’s goin’ on?” Jayden appeared at the girl’s side. Like out of thin air.
Up close this time, I realized he was probably younger than this girl and me. Maybe a freshman or sophomore? His eyes, the same light green color as Hector’s, weren’t as red as they’d been yesterday when I’d seen him in the hall.
The girl glanced down at him, as surprised as I was to see him. “What do you want?”
“Don’t be a puta, Paige.” Those green eyes rolled, but his lips twitched into a grin as he reached over and tugged on her thick braid. “What are you today? The ghetto Katniss?”
She snatched her braid free. “You don’t even know who Katniss is, you little punk. You probably think The Hunger Games is what happens after you get high.”
Um.
“Sounds about right.” Jayden winked at me, his smile sly. “I know you. We ran into each other in the hall yesterday.” He paused. “And I saw you talkin’ to Rider after class—out in the parking lot.”
My gaze darted to the girl—to Paige. Her stare was glacial. “Are you mute or something? You haven’t said one word to me,” she said.