I must have fallen asleep, because the next thing I knew, Coach Carter was blowing his whistle, signaling the end of class. I sat up and ran my fingers through my hair. God, I felt a million times better.
Maybe Isabella had always been around that much and I just hadn’t realized before. It was a small school. There really wasn’t any way to avoid her.
Fresh air and sunshine had been the cure to my paranoia. Coach Carter blew the whistle again. I went to stand and realized that there was a piece of paper underneath one of my Keds. It must have been litter from the last game. I lifted my foot and grabbed the piece of paper so I could toss it. But then I saw something written in bright red ink.
The countdown is on. Your bloodline is about to run dry.
That wasn’t red ink. I stared at the words. Was it written in…blood? I dropped the note.
Shit. I leaned forward and watched the paper flutter beneath the bleachers. What the hell was that? My heart was pounding out of my chest as I got up and started running toward the gym.
I knew it was Isabella. Who else would leave a threat like that under my foot? But she wasn’t in my gym class. I stared at the other students running back up to the gym. It had to have been one of them. Right? And the only one I really knew was Cupcake.
“Cupcake!” I yelled and tried to catch up to him, but my stupid feet still hurt.
It was like he heard me and started running faster.
By the time I reached the gym he was already running up to the boy’s locker room. Son of a bitch. A few students turned and started laughing at me as I walked toward the girls’ locker room. Luckily I didn’t need to change, because the laughter and pointing only got worse in there. I grabbed my backpack out of my gym locker and got out of there as fast as I could.
Had they seen Cupcake leave the note? Was that why they were laughing? But the laughter continued to swirl around me in the hall too.
I kept my eyes on my shoes as I hurried to lunch. The last thing I needed was for Isabella to catch me in the hallway. I’d thought more about death in the past year than I ever thought I would. But today I wasn’t concerned with someone else dying. I was concerned about my own life.
The crowded cafeteria made me breathe a little easier. And I made a mental note to remember to write in my new journal. Today was a good example of how Isabella was the reason I was getting panic attacks. Maybe my dad would believe me with written proof. It was Isabella and only Isabella that made me panic.
I glanced over at the Untouchables’ table, wondering if that was where I should be sitting. But Isabella was perched there with her minions surrounding her. Her eyes locked with mine and she burst out laughing. All of her friends turned too, like their evil minds were in tune with their master’s.
I quickly looked away. I didn’t want to see them all smile in unison. Or worse…do that thing where they pretended to slice their throats with their hands. My heart was pounding in my chest. Please don’t let Matt sit at that table. If he did…there was no way in hell I’d be joining him.
I caught a glimpse of the Hunters a few tables over, laughing with some guys I didn’t know. James looked up at me. I thought he might wave. Or laugh at me like everyone else seemed to be doing. But instead he just lowered his eyebrows slowly. Like the sight of me here pissed him off.
I turned away. I didn’t care why James was frowning or why everyone else seemed to be laughing. Jokes about me being a prostitute didn’t make me laugh. Besides, I had more important things to worry about. Like the fact that Isabella was 100% still planning on killing me.
Matt would know what to do. I scanned a few more tables until I found the Caldwells. Matt and Mason were both sitting at my usual table. They’d brought a few football players with them. Kennedy was already sitting there too and she waved me over. I slid into my usual seat, but it felt anything but normal with the laughter behind me only growing.
Matt looked down at me. He opened his mouth to say something, but Kennedy cut him off.
“Is that some kind of weird new fashion statement?” Kennedy asked.
“What?” I looked down at Matt’s varsity jacket.
“Not that. You look amazing in your fiancé’s jacket. I’m talking about the bullseye symbol on your forehead.”
I lifted my hand to my forehead, and when I pulled my fingers down they were bright red. The exact same red as the note. What the hell? “Am I bleeding?”
Matt grabbed my hand. “No. It’s…lipstick? Maybe?” He stopped me when I went to reach for my forehead again.