Page 32 of The Broken Note

“I suggest you get your insecure, trash-talking face out of my sight before I show you how we fight on the south side.”

Paris shrieks at her minions, “Guys, she just threatened me! What are you doing? Get her!”

“Try it.” I whirl around and pin them both with a sharp look. “I can promise you that I’ve been in more fights than either of you put together and Iwillleave scars.”

The girls hesitate and glance fearfully at each other. They must decide that Paris isn’t worth the permanent damage because they scurry out of the bathroom.

“Nice talk.” I step away, but turn back to say, “Oh, and be sure to let me know when you find a plan to get Dutch away from me. I can give you some pointers.”

Paris stomps her foot, face redder than flames, and lets out a shriek of frustration.

Smiling slightly, I leave the bathroom and hurry around the corner. I’ll be late for Lit, but at least I got to put Paris in her place.

It felt good, even if my arms are stinging.

Damn. She must have paid premium for that fancy manicure because her nails were like claws on my skin.

As the musical chimes ring, I freeze. There’s a tatted lead guitarist leaning against the wall outside Miss Jamieson’s class. Dutch has one foot propped behind him and both arms folded over his chest.

“Thought you were skipping class without me, Brahms.” He straightens.

I stop and hide my arms behind my back. “Dutch.”

He notices and, immediately, his expression darkens. He grabs me by the arm and drags it forward. I hiss in pain as his thumb squeezes one of the scratch lines.

“What the hell is this?” he barks at me, lifting my arm to the sunshine and staring at the scratches that drew blood in some places.

I glance away. “Nothing.”

“Nothing?” His voice is low and tight as a guitar string.

You’re not good enough for him.I turn away. “I just… got into a fight with a nasty cat. Nothing you need to worry about.”

“Where’s the cat?”

“It’s gone now.” I pull my arm back. “I handled it.”

“Dutch, Cadence.” Miss Jamieson calls to us. “Is there a reason you’re not seated and ready for class?”

Dutch stiffens. Out of all the teachers at Redwood Prep, the Cross brothers show the most respect to Miss Jamieson. It could be because she’s the most attractive teacher at Redwood—slim and curvy with brown skin and curly hair. Or it could be for other reasons. Who knows what the Cross brothers are thinking.

“We’ll be right there.”

“No we’re not.” A muscle in Dutch’s jaw clenches. “Cadence got hurt.”

“You did?” Miss Jamieson abandons her classroom and rushes over.

I blush, noticing the way the students inside are looking at us. “It’s really not a big deal.”

Dutch’s amber eyes slam into mine and I swear, lightning snaps out of his gaze. “You’re bleeding.”

“You should have seen the cat,” I joke hoarsely.

Dutch turns my wrist over and examines the skin on the underside of my arm. He does not look amused.

“Dutch, take her to the nurse’s office. And Cadence.” Miss Jamieson stops me with a concerned look. “After class, I need to speak to you for a few minutes.”

I mumble an agreement and allow Dutch to whisk me away.