Page 28 of The Broken Note

She never sits at the front.

Someone laughs at the obvious rejection, but that chortle ends quickly when I send a frigid stare his way. No one dares to even breathe after that.

Reaching deep for patience, I point to the chair right behind hers. It’s occupied but I give exactlyzerodamns.

I watch as the kid flees in a heartbeat and I calmly slide into the chair behind Cadence. She knows I’m behind her. I can tell by the way she clenches her little fists. By the way her neck tenses. But she refuses to turn around.

Fine by me.

I don’t care either way.

Slouching in my chair, I focus on what’s really important. Cadence. From this point, all I can see is her shiny brown hair spilling out of her high ponytail. Small tendrils are out around her cheeks.

I remember how it felt sliding past my fingers. Long and silky. Carrying the fragrance of fruity shampoo. If I lean closer, I can catch a whiff of it now.

Damn.

She’s sexy as hell from the back too.

I content myself with watching her and I don’t feel the time fly.

It’s not until the musical chimes sing through the room that I realize class is over.

* * *

Jinx: Prince Charming Or Prince Werewolf?

All eyes were on our Royal Bad Boy during first period today, buthiseyes were on one person.

To all those broken-hearted step-sisters out there, don’t be discouraged. Redwood’s Prince might be wagging his tail, but the girl who slipped the collar on his neck didn’t bat an eye at him.

Is his devotion a dare gone wrong? Or is our Prince Charming making up for his past misdeeds?

One thing is for sure. Whether he’s in the shape of a man or a personal pet, I hope Cinderella knows the leash in her hand is tied to a powerful beast.

Until the next post, keep your enemies close and your secrets even closer.

- Jinx

CHAPTERSEVEN

CADENCE

Living with my mother is a nightmare. One that I want desperately to wake up from.

Early this morning, she was dancing naked in the living room and playing music so loudly, someone from the apartment below us had to bang on the ceiling with a broom.

She stank up the bathroom with cheap weed—where she got the money to buy it, I don’t even know.

When the hunger pangs hit her, mom made a mess of the kitchen. Sticky egg shells. Flour-spattered footprints. Dirty pots and pans. It would have been slightly acceptable if breakfast had been edible, but it wasn’t.

This is the second time I’ve had to throw away a meal.

Which means I had to throw away damn good groceries.

Which means I basically threw away money.

And guess who had to clean up the kitchen after all that?