here would’ve been better off not meeting me.
“No, that’s not—” Bobbi sighed, shaking her head. “Things are just crazy around here, you know? The last time things were this crazy was…” She paused, frowning to herself. “Three years ago. I hated it then, and I hate it now. As a freshman, I thought nothing could touch me. But now? Now I’m worried none of us will make it to graduation.”
“We will,” I said, wanting to say more, to reassure her that things would calm down, but it was then Ms. Haber came out of her office. Of course, today of all days she’d start class timely. Ugh.
We had to quiet and start doing our vocal warm-ups.
I didn’t get to talk to Bobbi at all the rest of the period, we sang so much. By the time the bell rang to signal my lunch period, I figured Bobbi didn’t really want to talk about it. She hurried away, and I let her go, knowing some people needed more time. Time to get used to the craziness, to the death and the chaos.
I didn’t bother to grab my lunch; I wasn’t hungry. Instead, I headed straight to the cafeteria and set down my books on the table. I’d beat both guys there for once, since I didn’t stop at my locker, and I waited for their presence. I’d come up with a few questions to ask Dante, because, as much as I wanted to forget about it and move on, Deetra and Chelsea were dead, and Dante was the last one that I knew of to see them alive. If the cops hadn’t spoken with him yet, it was only a matter of time.
And then…then what? What if they linked him up to Ryan and his friends? That would be downright horrible.
Vaughn came out of the kitchen carrying a tray of pizza, pizza I knew he wouldn’t eat. Dante had taken to eating his food most days; saved Dante the money and Vaughn the trouble of playing with it for thirty minutes like he used to. Today his black hair was combed to the side, his torso in a short-sleeved shirt, revealing the tattoos on his knuckles.
Even if he was a killer, he was mine. He was sex on two legs, and though he came from a psycho family who was hiding a wanted serial killer, I didn’t care. How messed up was that? My morals had taken a turn for the worse here in Midpark, I couldn’t deny that.
He slid in the seat across from me, his dark gaze meeting mine.
“Hey,” I said.
“Hey,” he echoed, his voice that low, deep timbre that sent shivers down my spine on a good day. Today, though, I was much too concerned with what had happened at the party to let my hormones get out of control.
I said nothing else, biting the inside of my cheek as I waited for Dante to stroll up to the table and pop a squat. The minute he sat down, I’d jump on him.
Not literally, not like usually, but you know what I meant.
Dante must’ve taken his good old time in walking to the cafeteria of the school, for it was a few minutes until he arrived, and when he did, he took the chair beside me, his leg bumping up against mine. “Ooh,” he mused, instantly spotting the pizza on Vaughn’s plate, “pizza.” Licking his lips, he reached over the table and grabbed a slice.
I watched him chow it down, amazed that he could act so normal after everything. Although, it shouldn’t surprise me, given that, the night he’d killed Ryan’s friends and severely wounded the would-be rapist himself, he’d come to my choir concert and got me all worked up.
“Not to interrupt your pizza,” I said, causing those icy blue eyes to flick to me, “but I have to ask you something.”
I kid you not, the leather-clad man had that pizza slice gone in less than five bites. He either had an appetite, or a really big mouth. Or both. That mouth did know what it was doing when attached to certain places, I’d give it that…
Not a good thing to think about, Jaz, I told myself.
“Did anyone see you go upstairs with them?” I dared not say their names, lest someone around us at one of the other tables was listening in. The cafeteria was somber, quieter than it had ever been, probably because most of these rich kids were finally realizing that their money couldn’t