Page 5 of House of Hearts
Amber’s eyes light up, and she swats excitedly at Birdie’s arm. “This is like divine intervention,” she whispers, pointing rapidly between Real Sadie and Circled Yearbook Sadie. “Now’s your chance! Go up there! Drag her up to the lookout!”
I squint at the Juliet-style balcony a quarter of the way up the clock tower.
The look Birdie gives me is pitying, one that says I’ve got a ton of catching up to do around here.
“I forget you’re brand new here. Basically, it’s a well-known makeout spot, but aside from that”—her cheeks burn red—“there’s the belief that if you go up there with your crush, you’ll be together forever. It’s a silly superstition.”
“Nothing says true love like an ancient, musty clock tower.” Oliver snickers before getting jabbed in the ribs by his girlfriend.
“Don’t forget that you kissed me up there, too.”
He stammers and buries his face back in his book.
“Now, c’mon! Don’t lose this chance!” Amber gives Birdie one final send-off push, and I catch my new roommate’s eye as she throws me a pleading glance. I can’t save her from this, but I’ve got my own reasons for hooking my arm through hers and tagging along.
“I don’t mind coming with you.”
“Ugh, you were supposed to be my savior!” she whines, already caving by the expression on her face. “Fine, fine. I’ll go. What is it that you want me to even do?”
Amber’s grin grows. “Flirt! It’s not rocket science! Go up there, say hi, and ask if she’d like to go up with you. Easy.”
Nothing is easy about walking up to the tower where my best friend died, but I’ve already made up my mind.
Birdie is chittering nervously in my ears, though I’ve stopped tuning in.
I’m busy calculating the fall from the top of the tower, where the clock hand strikes, to the unforgiving earth below.
The grass is dry now, but I know a year ago it was bloodstained.
The lookout itself isn’t even halfway up, and it’s still giving me hives. The thought of Em scaling even higher…
Fear bobs in my throat, surging forward with every miserable step. By the time the two of us make it to the entrance, I’ve gone as cold as a body on an autopsy table. Beyond us, the sign on the wall reads:
Important Safety Regulation: Please Proceed Two at a Time for the Lookout.
I force my legs to move, my gaze cutting back up to the balcony. Heights were never an issue, not until last year. Now the only thought in my head is how easily humans are unmade.
Sadie doesn’t notice us approaching. She’s too busy furiously tapping her foot against the grass. Meanwhile, Calvin’s a wild animal caught in a trap, ten seconds away from gnawing off its own leg. His eyes dart to and fro with a slightly rabid look as he searches for a way out.
“We need to talk about this,” Sadie hisses, her voice lowering to a whisper. “If it means what I think it means—”
She stiffens at our approach and whips around, her gaze positively lethal. “Can we help you?” she snarls. I don’t think that was part of Cupid’s plan.
Birdie flushes hot, going about as red as the school crest. “I, um, was going to ask you if…uh…wanted to go up in the…uh…never mind…” With supreme secondhand embarrassment, I watch as she ditches my hand and trips over herself in her quest to make it back to the group.
I think this is the moment where I’m supposed to chase after her with my tail between my legs.
But I’m not the type to back down, so I lift my chin higher and get ready to ask the real questions.
Maybe it’s thanks to Birdie’s mortifying, rambling invitation, but something gleams in Calvin’s eyes.
I can see the half-baked idea take shape before he even opens his mouth and strides toward me.
Suddenly his arm falls across my shoulders as he pulls the two of us into the open doorway of the tower.
“Sorry, Sadie. Looks like I’m busy after all,” he remarks. “What kind of Hart student would I be if I didn’t personally welcome the new girl?” He turns to me, and his eyes gloss down to my student-ID lanyard. “Violet, right?”
I hate the traitorous flip in my stomach at the way his fingers tighten on my shoulder. He hurries to shut the door behind us, but Sadie wedges her fingers in the gap.
“Oh, yeah, classic Calvin,” she spits into the crevice, her glacial eyes rolling from him to me. “Not even the first day of school and you’re going to go make out with some random girl in lieu of having any important discussions. This isn’t over.”
He pries her fingers off one by one, his expression sickly sweet. “Really? Because it seems incredibly over. Now, if you’ll excuse me, we’re going to need some privacy. Thirty minutes should do.”
With the last finger ripped off, he pushes his weight into the door, and his smug expression smears right off. He groans and massages what can only be a brewing migraine.
I’m in the clock tower with Calvin Lockwell.
But all I can think about is the room growing tighter.
Panic blackens the corners of my vision, constricting my view until it feels like the world has me in a choke hold.
Em was here. Those three words spiral viciously in my skull, a nasty reminder of what happened and a taunt of all the things I still don’t know.
One thing is for certain: She climbed these very steps to the top, stood on the ledge, and was pushed off.
I fan myself to get my shit together. I’m sure my cheeks are turning a scalding, awful red, and my hair has gone sweaty on my scalp.
Calvin glances up from his headache. His amber eyes sweep over my skin, and he recoils at the very sight of me.
“Don’t act so nervous,” he whispers, pushing past me for the staircase. He doesn’t bother stopping to glance back at me. He carries on like he’s seen more than enough. “I’d never dream of kissing you.”