BOOK TWO OF THE SCARLETT CHRONICLES |
After being kidnapped as a young child, seventeen year old Scarlett Grey found her way home to her family. For months, she struggled to find a balance between the girl she'd left behind and the girl she had beco...
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MY NEW SEMESTER of school consisted of a lot of boring classes. Gone were my arts course and anthropology, the two classes that actually held my interest during the day. I'd opted to take the next level of English lit and Latin, as well as organic chemistry with Aimee. A physical education class had also found its way onto my schedule, along with a basic psychology class.
By some miracle, I'd been assigned a glorious free period in place of having a sixth period class. It would be my most anticipated period of the day.
"Earth to Red," Aimee's voice pierced through my daydreaming haze. "Don't tell me you've already checked out. It's only lunch time."
The group of us were sitting around one of the tables by the window in the dining hall. Half of us matched our uniform sweaters and skirts, while Violet and Aimee had chosen to wear their blouses in the freezing February weather. Rachel, on the other hand, once again broke dress code in her leather jacket and plain black turtle neck.
"Nah," I shook my head, leaning my chin in my palm. "Just mentally preparing for another round of Latin this semester."
"You've been keeping up at home though, right?" Meghan asked, stuffing a forkful of gourmet macaroni and cheese in her mouth.
I nodded, unscrewing the cap on my water bottle. "Yeah. Which is how I know it's going to be a snooze fest."
"You could've just taken French or Spanish like a normal person," Rachel scoffs, eyes glued to her cellphone in her hand.
My eyes rolled. "I would have, but all you normal people had already filled the classes." When Rachel didn't jump of the lead I handed her, I raised a curious eyebrow. "Who are you texting so intensely anyways?"
Rachel looked up at me with a humorless expression. "My crack dealer."
Was I tempted to mumble that her brother was sitting just a few tables over from us? Absolutely. But it would be pointless, considering Declan hadn't touched his phone all period— I would know, I'd texted him twice and had zero response. Which meant she was talking to someone else entirely.
