Page 34 of As the Rain Falls (Sainte Madeleine #1)

HOW TO A-D-D

Cassandra

Mrs. Yun’s test becomes a real problem. So much so that I end up stuck in detention with Mateo Pereira and Antony Silva for two hours the next time we see her in class.

First, she makes us retake the exam, which takes us about an hour or so, and I definitely fail in spite of Beckett’s best attempts at teaching me how to find the x .

Then, she leaves us locked in for the second hour with a seven-word sentence scrawled on the whiteboard, underlined by three harsh lines.

I will not cheat on a test.

I guess it’s the kind of sentence we’re supposed to write a hundred times on paper, or something.

“Why is she such a bitch?” Mateo mutters, glaring at the door like he’s plotting ways to blow it up with his mind.

His connection with the Force must be really weak, because nothing happens. Too bad. He does have that Anakin Skywalker dark look to him.

“It’s not like I cheated.”

“You helped us cheat,” I point out, doodling tiny hearts over the I’s and crossing the T’s on my paper. “That makes you a cheater by association.”

He huffs in response, and a perfect curl falls against his forehead, “Cheating by association is not a thing.”

Two rows ahead of me, Antony snorts, barely holding in a laugh.“Blondie’s right. It’s totally a thing, dude.”

“What’s wrong with this school?” Mateo groans loudly, tipping back and forth in his chair. “Do you guys realize that they micromanage us like we’re toddlers?”

“Welcome to Sainte Madeleine,” Antony and I deadpan in perfect unison.We pause, blinking at each other, both narrowing our eyes before we both speak again,“I said it first.”

“Do I seem to care?” I retort immediately, rolling my eyes at him.

Antony makes a noise with his tongue. He seems annoyed.

“Whatever.”

Mateo rises from his seat abruptly, looking at us like he’s just decided we’re his new disciples. Jedi in training. Padawans. Whatever. I’ve been watching too much TV.

“I don’t deserve to be here, and neither of you deserves it either.”

Spoken like a boy who doesn’t need to cheat to ace his tests. Naturally.

“We actually cheated on the test.” I bite the edge of my pink crayon, shrugging before I write the sentence again.

I will not cheat on a test .

“Well, it’s not Antony’s fault if he can’t read numbers…”

“I can read numbers, Mateo,” Antony interrupts, his voice flat.

He readjusts the chain around his neck, which looks like an identical copy of Beckett’s, and tugs his shirt so the buttons hang half-open, exposing a sliver of his chest.

That’s when I notice a small tattoo near his collarbone, the kind that looks like it’s made with a stick-and-poke. The skin around it is reddish, and the tattoo looks fresh, with uneven lines just around the edges.

“I can read them just fine.”

“…And if you can’t A-D-D them, Cassandra,” the brown-haired boy teases, his grin sharp.

“I can add them!” I spin around to face Antony. “Tell him I can add!”

Antony drags his braids to one side, eyes flickering back to me to give me a deadpan kind of look.

“Do I look like Kayla Saint-Louis to you?”

I keep on staring at him, using my best puppy eyes. It usually works on boys, or whatever.

“Jesus, okay,” he sighs while rolling his eyes. “Cassandra knows how to… A-D-D. Or whatever.”

“I’m opening the door,” Mateo announces, turning towards it with the kind of determination that will definitely give us problems. “Cassandra, you got a hairpin in your backpack or something?”

I hesitate, then dig through my makeup bag.After I finally find one, I hand it to the boy who seems to like getting in trouble.

“Don’t break it, please.”

“I won’t,” Mateo promises while bending the clasp into a straight line.

Antony and I crowd behind him, curious to see where this is going. We hold our phones up, keeping our flashlights on like we’re about to perform some kind of complicated surgery.After what feels like an eternity—really, we spend at least half an hour picking at the lock—the lock finally clicks.

“It worked!” Mateo’s grin stretches wide, his eyes disappearing with it as his cheekbones go up. “I can’t believe it actually worked!”

“What do you mean?” I ask, tucking my hair behind my ear because the little stray strands keep falling on my face. “I thought you were, like, professional door opener or something.”

“I saw the trick on YouTube like, once.” He shrugs. “But, like, I never actually tried doing it before.”

“Are you coming or not?” Antony asks, his voice low. He glances back at me, expectant. “Snitches get stitches, Rivera.”

I hesitate, retreating to my desk instead. I’ve never skipped detention before, mostly because I’ve never been caught cheating on a test either.

“You guys can go. I’m not a snitch.” I pick up the crayon again, twirling it between my fingers. “But my dad’s the principal, I can’t just—”

“Oh, come on. You’re one of us now,” Mateo cuts me off as he gathers up his things. “And you already took the test again. What more does she want from you?”

“Let’s just go home and say you had to go to the bathroom or something,” Antony says, agreeing with his friend. I watch as he slings his red backpack over his shoulder. “She’s definitely not allowed to keep us locked in here.”

“I…” My chest tightens. I really want to go . “I don’t know.”

“You know what?” Antony’s comeback is almost immediate. His voice is sharp, filled with agitation, “I don’t know about you two, but I’m out of here.”

He walks off, his expression unreadable.Before he leaves, though, he looks at me one last time. It’s not exactly anger on his face, but something far worse: disappointment. It’s like he expected this kind of answer from me all along.

Ah.

And they say peer pressure isn’t a real thing.

Well, it definitely stings more than it should.

I close my mouth shut, wondering what makes it so that we’ve never really spoken to each other. I know he is close friends with Beckett, and I am friends with Beckett too, especially now that I’m dog-sitting Pepé.Maybe Antony and I could get along really well, too.That is, if we talked.

“Are you really not coming?” Mateo asks again, quieter this time. “This won’t get you in trouble, Cassandra. I promise.”

But it might.

What if it does?

What if Mrs. Yun comes back and I’m gone?

What if my dad finds out?

What if…

What if I never get the chance to befriend Antony Silva again?Will Beckett hate me for not liking his best friend?

It’s so easy to tiptoe the line between what you should be doing and what you really want to do. Maybe it’s human nature, or maybe I just like to do the wrong thing.

“C’mon, Cassie,” Mateo urges, insistent and persuasive. “It’s detention, okay? Not a fucking prison.”

Antony, who I thought had left, comes back.He stops by the door but doesn’t say anything, just tilts his head back, eyes flickering to me with the same half-bored, half-expectant look as before.

It feels like he already knows what I’ll choose.

And maybe he’s right.

Screw it .

“Okay,” I say, surprising even myself.The word comes out quite uncertain, but I still grab my bag and hurry after them. The logical part of my brain is telling me to stop, but I don’t.“Where are we going?”

Mateo grins wider, triumphant. Antony scoffs, but the corner of his mouth twitches up. It’s not quite a smile, but it feels close enough to one, and I find myself fighting off a grin.

“Are we showing her the spot?” Mateo asks, skipping like an excited gazelle. “Please, Tony. We need to!”

Antony doesn’t answer right away but glances over at me again instead. This time, the look isn’t disappointment or anger; it’s something entirely different. I can’t tell what that is, though. I swear to God, his poker face—it makes him so unreadable!

The three of us move fast, rushing through the hallway, our footsteps too loud because we can’t fight the adrenaline flooding in our veins.

I expect Mrs. Yun to appear out of thin air any second now, but surprisingly enough, she doesn’t.

Nobody does.There are no alarms, no angry voices, or angry brothers waiting for me as we push through the exit door.

“We’re showing her the spot,” Antony finally decides.

Mateo brings me into a quick side-hug, messing with my hair, laughing like he’s just won the lottery. I can’t help but join in as we cross the road, leaving the tall buildings of Sainte Madeleine far behind us.