“Whenever anyone joins the orchestra, we ask that they play a piece so the other students get a feel for their style. Is that okay with you?” Mr. Tucker’s exuberant voice has me whipping my head in his direction. He’s once more bouncing on the balls of his feet, rubbing his hands together like the fucking Grinch who just stole Christmas. Honestly, it’s kind of adorable.
“Of course.” I nod once before procuring my sheet music from my backpack. Sifting through the options, I settle on “Partita D minor BWV 1004” by Bach. It’s one of the hardest pieces you can play, but also one of my favorites. There’s something beautiful about the music emitting from the instrument, the abrupt change in registers. The movement of your fingers caressing the strings as the bow develops a life of its own. This particular piece isn’t as melancholy as some of the other ones I love to play. Instead, it takes you on a journey. You can sense the excitement contaminating the air as the enthusiasm grows and grows.
Putting the violin beneath my chin and the bow to the strings, I begin to play.
I lose myself to the music. For a moment, I forget who I am and why I’m here. I forget about the charming Devils who ruined my life when I was younger. I forget about the pain that accompanied me for years, the sense of failure and resignation that I will never be good enough. The music courses through me, and I squeeze my eyelids shut, no longer needing the sheet music to guide me.
And as the song reaches a crescendo, I feel my body begin to sway.
I play for only a few minutes, allowing the music to taper off when it reaches a natural conclusion, and reopen my eyes, once more joining the land of the living.
The entire class is staring at me with various expressions of disbelief. All at once, like a dam being burst open, excited murmurings drift to my ears.
“That’s wonderful!” Mr. Tucker practically squeals…though I feel kind of bad for him. I mean, there’s not much he’ll be able to teach me that I don’t already know. I live and breathe the violin the way some people do dance and others do sports. There’s something about losing yourself to the music…
Felicia is the only one who’s not smiling. It’s not quite hatred emanating from her gaze, but it’s pretty damn close. Unable to stop myself, I flash her a smug smirk, and I swear smoke wafts from her nostrils.
Orchestra is the one place I don’t have to pretend, the one place where I can live without pain and heartache. If this bitch thinks she can take me down, she has another thing coming.
When I’m exiting the classroom, heading to my third hour of the day, I see Mariabella once more. She’s leaning against her locker, laughing at something Karsyn says to her.
For a moment, for a single helpless moment, I allow my traitorous eyes to linger on one of my childhood tormentors.
He’s buffed up over the years. I would’ve never called him scrawny before, but in comparison to what he looks like now…yeah. The new him could’ve crushed the old him with one swipe of his hand. From this distance, I can see his muscular forearms, even with the heavy letterman jacket on. His blond hair is a few shades lighter than Emmett’s and stylishly tossed to the side. His stupidly pretty face is perfectly proportioned with high cheekbones, lush pink lips, and hazel eyes. At the moment, with laughter dancing in his gaze, the green is more prominent than the brown, reminding me of a swampy pool of water.
I bite my lip as I’m assaulted by yet another memory.
“I’ll choose Sweats,” Lucas snapped coldly as we stood out on the soccer field. The boy in question—his real name was Markus—ran to join Lucas’s team.
Mr. Highland, the Gym teacher, barely looked up from where he was devouring Fifty Shades of Grey on the bleachers, content with allowing students to run his class.
“Chubs, you’re with me.” Karsyn nodded at the only other person besides me still in line, waiting to get picked. Chubs—or Daniel—ran forward with an enthusiastic whoop to join his dodgeball team.
“And what should we do with her?” Cassian said the word “her” as if it was an unfitting title, as if it would be better to describe me as a hideous monster or something just as degrading. He thrived off of making me feel inadequate and ugly whenever he could.
“I don’t think she should be on any team,” Elias mused almost lazily. He never talked much, but when he did, everyone fucking listened.
“Hmmm…so everybody versus the freak?” Karsyn asked with a maniacal glint in his hazel eyes.
“What do you say?” Lucas took a step forward until he was close enough to grab at my chin. His touch was almost bruising as he yanked my head up, forcing me to stare into his ice-cold eyes. “Everybody versus the freak?”
The class erupted into giggles as I felt a piece of my soul wither like a raisin. Pain bombarded me from all sides, and I could barely breathe through the tightness gripping my throat.
“Please, don’t do this,” I begged, tears pricking my eyes. Desperately, I glanced towards Mr. Highland, but he was too preoccupied with his book to notice what was transpiring right under his nose.
Not that he would care either way. None of them did.
“Begging will get you nowhere,” Lucas whispered before abruptly releasing me and wiping his hand on his pants. That was what nearly did me in—the show he made of wiping my germs off, as if the mere thought of my touch made him want to vomit. He was a performer, and this was his stage.
Behind him, Karsyn and Cassian howled with laughter, and even Elias—quiet, subdued Elias—chuckled darkly.
You won’t get away with this, I thought bitterly as I moved to stand on one side of the field and the rest of the class moved to the other. Soon, I’ll be a witch.
And humans wouldn’t dare to mess with a witch.
I wrench myself out of my memories just in time to hear Karsyn’s throaty chuckle. The large, beautiful man plants a tender kiss to Mariabella’s forehead before the two of them separate, heading to their respective third hour classes.
But seeing them together…
Seeing them happy…
It only fuels my blistering rage. Why should he have everything he ever wanted, while I have nothing? How is that fair? Why does the universe have such a sick sense of humor?
I planned to start with Karsyn’s football career, but maybe I’m going about this all wrong. Maybe I need to hit him where it actually hurts.
As I stare at Mariabella’s retreating back, an idea forms, and I can’t stop the demented smile from cleaving my face in two.
Keep your friends close, but your enemies even closer.
Chapter 5
There’s no Elias in third period, though I’m not surprised. My sources told me that he never arrives at school earlier than lunchtime. How he expects to graduate remains a mystery, but I can’t find it within me to give any semblance of a damn.
As I slide into a seat near the front of the classroom, my phone pings once. And then twice. And then three then four then five more times. Only one person would have the gall to incessantly message me in the middle of the school day.
Glancing at the front of the room and ensuring that Mr. Milk is still preoccupied talking through an assignment with a group of students, I pull my phone out of my backpack and glare down at the offending texts.