HOPE
There's an edge of familiarity in Finn's face.
I try to remember if he was among the guys Annika sent pictures of. I scroll mentally through every blurry selfie and candid she ever forwarded, but nothing clicks strong enough to say yes. Or no.
I want to ask him plainly if he knew Annika Kendrick. But if he's got anything to do with her disappearance, wouldn't he deny it straight away? Wouldn't he just lie, wear that bored expression like a mask, same as he's doing now?
Oh, for goodness' sake. Maybe Annika's just here. Maybe she doesn't want to speak to me again. Maybe she's fine and just cut me off because she found better people around her.
I massage a hand through my hair and drag it backward.
Still… Finn doesn't start up a conversation again. Just like I needed him not to.
He drives with one hand on the wheel, the other drumming out a silent rhythm. I stare out the window, watching the ridiculous skyline of Brookshigh roll by.
Everything looks too perfect.
Like a place where people like me don't fit.
His phone pings. A soft ding. Barely a sound, but whatever he reads wipes the stillness off his face.
He stops the car abruptly, swings his door open, then mine.
"Are we here yet?" I ask, totally bewildered at his behavior.
"No. Something important came up, Red." He seems very pleased with himself and his smile.
He steps closer—too close that I can feel his breath near me. His eyes start doing something weird—like they're scanning me or weighing me up. Then his face drops into a smirk, and he leans in slightly, like he's about to kiss me.
I move back immediately, disgust curling my face. "Seriously?"
He stops, straightens his coat, and clears his throat. "Well, you'll wish you didn't miss that."
I blink. He has an indefinable feeling of rightness.
He moves back, drags his hands across his hair, bends to my height, and whispers with a hushed breath across my ear:
"The principal's office is at the far-right corner of the last white building. Ask around. Politely. Red," he adds. His voice is calm and... seductive? "If she asks you whether Kaleb completed your tour, just say yes. For your own good. I'll see you around, newbie."
His voice, though deep, is crisp and clear.
He walks backward with a smile to his car.
And then he's gone—just like that.
I stand there for a moment, the heavy lashes that shadowed my cheeks fly up. I am still gripping the end of my bag like it might anchor me to reality.
What the hell was that?
My heart's pounding—not from attraction, definitely not!
It should be from the sheer weirdness of those last few seconds. One minute he's dead quiet, the next he's pulling some creepy almost-kiss move, and now he's vanished like a ghost with unfinished business.
I glance around. There's no student in sight and no white building.
I could have just taken a cab instead. I blame myself for trusting a playboy-looking boy who owns a Cybertruck to drive me.
Brookshigh is big. I wouldn't mind walking if it was my former school, but the vastness here and the distance between me and each building is so much, and I can feel my legs already becoming wobbly at the thought of covering those distances.
The sun beats down lazily, and my boots scuff against the cobbled path that seems to stretch forever. Every building here looks like it belongs in a movie.
I don't even know if I'm heading in the right direction. All I know is that Finn told me, "last white building." Problem is, there are like five white buildings lined up next to each other in the distance. Was he talking about the last from my left or right?
"Punk!" I curse under my breath and keep moving until I see a good number of students all gathered near the base of a building.
Finally. People. Maybe someone can just point me to the principal's office and I can get this nightmare over with.
I quicken my pace, a little relieved to see actual varieties of people I can ask.
I swallow and approach slowly, offering a small smile to the girl with braids near the edge. "Hey, uh, sorry. Do you know where—?"
She gives me this harsh, disgusted look, and I can't bring myself to ask more.
I frown and tap the guy beside her. "Excuse me, can you—?"
"Can't you read the room? Weirdo?" he says and walks away from my side.
I scoff and drag my bag to the side so I can actually get to read the fucking room.
They're all facing something, murmuring softly among themselves. A few have their phones out. Some are whispering with hands covering their mouths. It's not until I step closer that I notice they're circling someone.
"What's going on?" I ask, but it's as if my voice can't be heard by anyone.
I frown and push gently through the crowd, squeezing between stiff shoulders and hushed gasps until I break through to the front.
What the hell?
A girl sprawled out on the ground like a broken doll, one arm twisted under her body. Blood pools from her head, seeping into the cracks of the pavement. Her uniform is identical to everyone else's—plaid skirt, dark blazer, white shirt, and tie.
"Oh my God…" I stagger back.
No one moves to help. My head is beginning to spin at the sight of a dying girl in freaking broad daylight.
"She fell," someone says beside me.
"No. She was pushed," another voice cuts in.
My blood runs cold.
What kind of school is this?
My heart's thudding now, my ears are ringing as the world tilts slightly beneath me. My gaze climbs slowly—up, up, to the roof of the building in front of me.
Someone is really up there watching. I can't see her face clearly because of the distance, but she's leaning on the rails of the school roof. Smiling.
Oh my fucking goodness!
"Somebody help!" I call out and run towards the girl choking on her own breath. She's still alive and no one is making even an inch of effort to save her?
"Call an ambulance or something, please!"
She's trying to live, and no one's doing a damn thing.
I drop to my knees beside her. Her eyes are wide, unfocused, like she's trying to say something, but blood is already dripping from the corner of her mouth.
"Stay with me, please," I whisper, pressing my shaking hands to the wound near her temple. "Help is coming. It's coming, okay?"
But even as I say it, I know it's a lie.
I look up again, fury and fear battling in my chest. That girl is still on the roof, resting her chin on her hand, watching like this is a play she's seen a hundred times and smiling like nothing about this is new.
"What the hell is wrong with all of you?!" I scream at no one in particular. "SOMEONE CALL FOR HELP! We need to get her to the hospital!"
"You're new, huh?" someone finally says something.
I whip around to see a short, round boy with glasses.
"You don't call ambulances at Brookshigh," he says. "You call the cleaners."
I freeze.
"The what?" My voice comes out hoarse, cracking under the weight of what I'm seeing… and what I think I just heard.
The boy doesn't blink. He nods toward a group of three figures approaching us.
They're all in black uniforms. There isn't even the slightest bit of urgency in their steps.
The girl on the ground coughs—a wet, rattling sound that jerks me back into panic.
"She's still alive," I snap at them. "She needs a hospital, not… whatever the hell that is!"
The so-called "cleaners" kneel beside us, and one of them places two fingers on the girl's throat.
"Get her to the hospital!" I say.
"She's not gonna make it either way, girl. Don't you see that height?" she says and looks all the way up. The girl is gone.
"Why don't you try first and let the doctors decide?"
"Fine. You're quite stubborn. Obviously a new student," she shrugs and calls an ambulance.
I watch as they lift her onto the stretcher and drive off at their own pace.