Page 115 of Soul So Dark

Alex steps aside and gives a nod across the locker room. When I try to step past him, he grabs my head again and kisses me so deeply, I think my knees are about to buckle. And when he lets go, he gives my ass a sharp smack, driving me with a yelp back toward the tunnel leading to the gym.

On my way out, I hurriedly text Colson to tell him where I am. I decide to take the doors at the back of the vestibule between the gym and the cafeteria, making a detour to the restroom at the last minute. I start to fix my smeared lip gloss in the mirror and then a laugh when I think about what Alex might look like. I hope someone calls him out for the subtle hues of berry mixed with a hint of glitter.

Suddenly, the restroom door slams shut, making me jump.

“Hey,Jailbait,” a voice snips from behind me.

I glance in the mirror and my stomach drops. Jordy is glaring at my reflection through narrowed eyes, her oversized sweatshirt hanging off her sharp, angular shoulders as she props one hand on her hip. Slowly, I straighten up and turn around.

“Is that not what you answer to?” she asks. “What aboutbitch?Orslut?”

“Excuse me?” I ask, trying to remain as calm as possible.

“Are you stupid, too?” she scoffs. “Alex—myboyfriend.”

“He’s not your boyfriend,” I reply.

“You’re right,” Jordy furrows her brow sarcastically, “that’s why he begged to drive me home yesterday and pulled off into the woods so he could fuck me in the front seat of his car.”

My heart hammers in my chest, the adrenaline pumping as I try to focus.

No…no, he didn’t...

“But now that I know he fucks around withfreshmen,” she takes a step toward me, “there are some people who might want to know about it.”

My mind races, trying to make sense of what’s happening and how I can get out of it. How does Jordy know about me and Alex? There was no one else in the gym. Where did she even come from?

“He didn’t—” I start to argue, but Jordy cuts me off.

“It’d be a shame,” she muses, “if someone found out what you’re doing, and Alex got arrested—if he had to trade in his camo for an orange jumpsuit and the sex offender registry.” A cruel smile slowly spreads across her glossy pink lips. “Poor Alex…”

I’ve never wanted to punch someone so much in my life. And maybe I should. Even if she beats the hell out of me afterward, it’ll feel good for at least a few seconds. But like in every other situation, I don’t have the upper hand when it comes to size. Before I can try to brush past her and make my escape, she thrusts her arms out and shoves me square in the shoulders. I stumble back and catch myself on the wall, caught off-guard that she actually put her hands on me. And she’s still coming.

Jordy reaches into her sweatshirt pocket and pulls out something small and black, toggling it back and forth in her fingers as she strolls toward me. When she stops, I realize it’s a black metal pocket knife. Then I recognize the white Adidas emblem on the front pocket of her sweatshirt that’s far too big.

Where did she get Alex’s knife? And his sweatshirt?

“Or maybe it wasyouwho couldn’t keep your mouth shut,” Jordy smirks, “and he had to find some way to shut you up before you wrecked everything for him.”

I have to get out of here. Where’s Colson? If I don’t show up soon, maybe he’ll come find me.

But that’s stupid, why would Colson come into the girls’ restroom to search for me? No one is coming. I have to get out of this myself.

I clench my fists, ready to fight my way out of this bathroom—the same one where I listened to Jordy and her friends talk so flippantly about Evie’s death. Except, this time, I won’t just sit here and take it. But I don’t get the chance.

The restroom door swings open, drawing my attention over Jordy’s shoulder. The door groans as it closes, once again shutting me inside this deathtrap. Footsteps approach and soon, a new figure comes into view. Jordy glances behind her, and when I see who it is, I do a double-take. My stomach drops, and I’m hit with an unexpected sense of betrayal.

I might be Colson’s sister, but I’llneverbe one of them.

And the person staring back at me all but guarantees my demise.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Alex

I finish my French final with nearly an hour to spare, relieved that it’s my last one for the day.

At least it’s not Shakespeare.