“Watch your fucking step,” North bellowed, turning to face off whomever it was, but stopped short.
Jade stood by, in a short black skirt and a sheer dark T-shirt that revealed a tight pink tank top underneath, and black high-heeled boots. A dark eyebrow arched, and her hot pink lips twisted into a smirk. “Oh, sorry North,” she said, her voice immensely softer than I’d heard it before. She blushed, tucked her head down and looked up at him through her lashes and stuck a finger to her lip.
North’s fierce look softened, his shoulders dropping. “No,” he said, rubbing a palm across the back of his neck. “It’s my fault.”
My stomach twisted into a harsh knot and my teeth clenched. What was he doing? What was Jade wearing? And why was she suddenly so... coy?
“Will you be at the party tonight?” Jade asked. She batted her eyelashes. “Jay was just asking me if you would.”
“Yeah,” North said.
“Perfect! Oh, I mean, that’s good.” Jade flicked a look at me and Luke and then twinkled her eyes back at North. “I’ll see you there.” She turned down the hallway, walking away slowly.
“North,” I said, when I thought she was out of earshot. Jade was up to something. I couldn’t believe I forgot about the party. She’d said I wasn’t invited and it would just be cheerleaders and the football players. Now she was acting sweet. North had rejected her before. Did she think changing herself a little would help North change his mind? But I was still sure she was the one that put the drugs in the water at the last party. I couldn’t let North go to the party if she was up to something. “I have to tell you...”
North turned, nudging me toward homeroom. “Hurry up,” he said. “We’ll be late.”
I bit my tongue for the moment. He kept a hand on my back while we weaved our way through the crowds of people.
When we made it to homeroom, Luke sat in front of me and North sat behind. I turned, kneeling in the chair to face him. “Don't go to the party,” I said.
North’s eyebrows shot up. “What? I have to go.”
I looked around the classroom. I wasn’t comfortable with the idea of anyone overhearing, and I wasn’t sure how to tell North. I wanted him to take me seriously, and not think I was just jealous. I dropped a hand on his arm, desperate for his full attention. “Jade’s already said I wasn’t invited and she...”
“It’s just the cheerleaders and the jocks,” North said. “I already know.”
“Yeah, but,” I slid my eyes back toward the students, unsure.
“Baby,” North said. He captured my hand, squeezing it. “Just tell me.”
I blushed. I leaned over his desk. He caught my intent, and tilted forward so I could whisper. “I’m pretty sure she put the drugs in my drink at the last one.”
North tilted his head back to catch my eyes. “Are you sure?”
“She never said outright, but I’m pretty sure.”
North’s eyes did a sweep of the room as he raked his fingers through his dark hair. “She’s been on my ass lately.”
“What was with the get up?” Luke asked. “I’ve never seen her wear pink.”
“She was wearing pink?” North asked.
“Yeah,” Luke said. “Like she was trying to wear things Sang wears. Only slutty. It was kind of creepy.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t go,” I said.
“I have to,” North said. “Blackbourne’s orders. We’ve got to get along with the football team.”
“Wouldn’t he change his mind if he knew?”
“When he hears about it, he’ll want me to go to see if she tries to drop things in people’s drinks, and maybe find out where she gets her stash from.” North pressed a palm to his face, rubbing. “I really hate this fucking school.”
“Mr. Taylor,” Mr. Ferguson, the homeroom teacher, said with a tone of surprise and disappointment. He turned his attention to us. “There’s no cursing on school grounds.”
“Sorry,” North said.
“I’m afraid I’ll have to send you to the Principal’s office.”
North huffed, grabbed his bag and slung himself out of the chair, heading toward the door. He took one look back, meeting my eyes. The door closed hard behind him.
I twisted around, sitting back into my seat. I shared a glance with Luke, feeling sorry for North and at the same time hoping Mr. Hendricks wouldn’t give him detention or worse.
ATYPICAL MUSIC CLASS
Later, North was in math class and hadn’t gotten detention. I suspected Mr. Blackbourne rescued him from that, but North never said.
North escorted me to third period, and we stood just outside of Music Room B.
“I thought I was supposed to sit in the office,” I said. Ever since we had a bomb scare that targeted Mr. Blackbourne, he had me do homework in his office with the door locked.
“Change of plans,” North said.
That happened so much these days.
North checked behind his shoulder, but we were out of view from the general hallway. “You’ll be okay?”
“Should be,” I paused, hesitating. “Will you?”
He turned his head back toward me. “What did I tell you about worrying about us?”
“You worry about me. Fair’s fair.”
He grunted, rolling his eyes. “You’re impossible.”
What did he want me to do? Not think about them at all? “Did you not want me to care?” I asked.
His eyes flashed. He frowned and then reached out, placing his palm on the back of my neck. He drew me in, and his head bowed until his forehead touched mine. “Don’t want you to look so damn scared all the time.”
“I don’t know how I look,” I said. Did he notice the same thing Kota always saw?
North’s fingers massaged my neck and for a moment he was quiet. “Beautiful, Baby,” he said in a low, guttural tone. He released me and started walking off. “Always beautiful.”
I floated on the spot after he disappeared around the corner, like waiting for him to return and tell me that again, because it made my heart rock hard against my ribs, but my brain refused to believe it.
When the hallway started to quiet, I hurried to open the door to Music Room B before the bell rang.
Mr. Blackbourne stood by the piano on the far side of the room, but he was talking to someone else, a tall man with dark hair hanging to his chin. The stranger was leaning with his elbow against the back of the piano. He wore jeans and a drab olive button up shirt, with the sleeves rolled up.
The stranger’s gaze moved first, settling on me, a look of genuine surprise catching in his dark eyes.
Mr. Blackbourne paused in whatever he was saying, following the man’s attention. “Miss Sorenson,” he said in a quick welcoming tone.
“Mr. Blackbourne?” I was curious about what was going on.
He gestured to the stranger. “This is Mr. Toma.”
Mr. Toma strode forward, his hand out toward me. “Axel,” he said.
I left my book bag on my shoulders and met him halfway into the room. I shook his hand. “Hello,” I said quietly.
Mr. Toma checked with Mr. Blackbourne, and a silent bit of communication went between them. I sensed right off he was Academy, and he may have been checking with Mr. Blackbourne to see if I was.
“She’s here for a violin lesson,” Mr. Blackbourne said.
Axel raised his eyebrow. “Without a violin?”
I stood back with a finger poised over my lower lip. Had I been wrong? This wasn’t someone from the Academy? Mr. Blackbourne didn’t want to let him know how much I knew?
“Officially,” Mr. Blackbourne said. There was another look, one suggesting he wasn’t going to offer much more on the topic.
“Ah,” Mr. Toma said. He turned to me. “Don’t let me interrupt any more then.” He waved a goodbye and left the room.
My knees and elbows were locked straight, well after the door had closed. My eyes met Mr. Blackbourne’s. What now?
“We may have learned the iden