The Cursed Series, Parts 3 & 4 (Cursed #3-4) - Rebecca Donovan Page 0,90

of the grass, where it slopes and turns into dirt and boulders. Mr. Garner remains seated at the picnic table, giving me space.

I squeeze my eyes shut, determined to squish the tears back into my sockets. Releasing a heavy breath, I spin and clomp back to the picnic table where I sit across from Mr. Garner. I stare at him with my elbows on the table and my arms still crossed. Here goes nothing.

“Let’s start with guilt,” I tell him, the stupid tears winning and dripping down my cheeks. “I’m the reason my grandmother’s dead.”

My face is red and blotchy by the time we return to campus. I’ve obviously been crying, but I’ll deny it if anyone asks. Who knew Mr. Garner would be truly good at what he does? Without help from the stupid life-advisor manual. Guess I should’ve given him a chance to prove it before now.

I sit through my last ever chemistry class. With just the final exam to pass next week, I’ll be done with it forever. I catch sight of Sophia walking toward me in the hall when I leave the classroom. She looks … terrible. When we make eye contact, she stops abruptly.

“Sophia?”

Dark circles shadow her eyes. Her usually perfectly styled ensemble is wrinkled, and her shirt is only half-tucked in.

She stares at me in horror and then bolts down a side corridor. That wasn’t subtle.

“Sophia!” I call after her, running to catch up. Except when I make it to the corner, she’s gone.

There are only two doors in the hall, and both are locked. She … disappeared. Which I know is impossible. My mind automatically concludes she’s snuck down a passage that’s hidden somewhere in the wall.

I try patting along the wood paneling, hoping something will click open.

“What are you doing?”

I spin around to find Lance staring at me curiously. “Nothing. I … nothing. What’s up?”

“Last day of classes!” he announces triumphantly, his arms raised in the air. “We need to celebrate. You can leave campus now, right?”

“Uh, yeah,” I answer. And as much as I’m tempted to have fun—or I should say, as much as I need to have fun—I have something I must do first. “I have plans already. Sorry.”

“Oh.” Lance deflates. “That sucks. I’m going to a party with Kaely. Was hoping you’d come too.”

Now it’s my turn to be disappointed. I haven’t seen Kaely in weeks.

I grimace regretfully. “Tell Kaely I said hi. Hopefully, I’ll see her tomorrow at the club.”

“Are you sure you should be working?” Lance asks in his overprotective little brother way. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m okay,” I assure him as we exit into the Court. “Arden made this gross-tasting tea that’s helped a lot.”

“Arden? She’s in the room next to yours, right?”

“You know her?”

“No. Seen her. She’s pretty … original.”

“Definitely. I like her.”

“Cool. Then I will too.” He stops in front of an art installation that looks like someone stretched chewed gum and wrapped it around a giant baseball bat. “I’m going to the gym now. I’ll see you around.” Before he walks away, he suddenly remembers something. “Oh! There’s a red ribbon tied to the swing in the birch forest. Not for me.”

“For me?” I ask in surprise. Maybe it’s a note from Ashton, wondering when I’ll be done blowing her off.

Lance only grins before walking away.

I redirect my steps to take me to the birch forest. Sure enough, a red ribbon is tied to the white porch swing that I always found so peculiar in the middle of these trees. I untie the ribbon and reach into our tree, removing the jewelry box. A grey envelope with an infinity symbol—my symbol—is drawn on the outside. I tuck the ribbon into the box and replace it inside the hole.

Sitting on the swing, I open the envelope and pull out a single piece of paper.

∞

I know you asked for time, so I’m trying to be patient. But I wanted you to know I’m thinking about you. Whenever you’re ready, I’m here. I’m not going anywhere. (Hopefully soon because I miss you.)

Forever an idiot,

G

I cover the huge smile that hijacks my face and laugh. Grant. I hold the note over my heart and laugh again. He is an idiot. I sink into the swing, relieved he hasn’t given up on me. And that I told him about our coded notes in the tree. Then again, I’ve told him everything ’til now.

I’m tempted to sniff the paper to see if it smells like him. I miss him