Fatal Attractions

Chapter Six: Cassiopeia

The lockdown alarm sounded unfamiliar. It didn't match the shrill buzz of a fire alarm, which was what Juliet was used to hearing, but it was a sound that was low and urgent, like a wolf howling to the moon.

The noise startled the teacher so badly that Mrs. Dreen dropped her chalk, then stared at the broken chunk of powder on the floor. She knew what the alarm meant, and it wasn't a practice alarm either, which they always told the teachers about.

While Mrs. Dreen's eyes were wide with fear, Juliet's were spread with guilt. Even if Juliet hadn't been completely sure, she had a feeling Bryce was going to do something. He had broken, permanently, and was ready to do anything for revenge. Juliet hadn't warned anyone, and the cost for her ignorance would be great. The alarm continued to howl. For a moment, the classroom shared stunned silence, then everyone had something to say.

"They didn't announce a drill this morning," Michelle Queen said nervously, wringing her hands in her skirt. She was a chubby blonde girl who always wore knee-length skirts to class.

"It doesn't sound like a fire alarm," offered Greg Mccall, digging his dusty red fingers into a family-size bag of takis. "What drill is this for? Tornado?" he sputtered with a full mouth.

"Hell, I love fire alarms. Gives me a five-minute break from this shit-hole," said Hank Mathews. Normally, the teacher would be all over him for this language, but this time things were different.

"It's not a fire alarm," Michelle spat, throwing a poisonous look at Hank. When it came to Hank, Juliet's hatred didn't stand alone. Every girl at Waylord shared a mutual hatred for him.

Michelle turned to the teacher. "Should we do something?" she squeaked, her voice expectant. Mrs. Dreen was caught in a daze, trying to cope with the situation most teachers only ever dealt with in their nightmares.

"Mrs. Dreen what do we do?" Chase probed. The sound of his voice made Juliet's insides swirl like soft-serve ice cream. Chase. Fuck. Everything clicked into place. After stealing Bryce's notebook from him, Chase had definitely made it onto Bryce's list.

"We're in lockdown," Mrs. Dreen said, gathering her strength. "It's most likely just a drill, but get under the computer desks anyways. Quick!"

The students trusted Mrs. Dreen. If she said it was a drill, then a drill it was. Obviously they hadn't caught the quaver in her voice. With some hesitation, the students got up from their chairs. Everyone had become quiet. Some students whispered excitedly to each other, others were nervous.

A line of computers against the back wall had enough space underneath for a condensed body to squeeze into. Being closest to the desks, Juliet claimed the first spot. The rest of the students followed, dropping what they were doing and scurrying into their cubbies. There ended up being too many students and not enough desks.

"Can I sit with you?" a voice peeped, and Juliet peered out to confirm who she already knew it was.

It was Chase.

"Sure," she said.

He clambered inside, forcing their bodies to press together, breaths mingled. From this close together, she could see the small details of his face she never had before. Heavy eyelashes blinked. He turned to look at her. Fear made his lips part and he was panting. Even the hair dangling in his eyes couldn't hide his fear today, which he usually covered so well.

"It's Bryce, isn't it?" he mumbled.

"Yes," she said. She was just confirming what they both already knew.

"Did you know he was going to do this?" he asked her, squinting his brows.

"Of course not," Juliet barked, then hesitated, "well, not for certain, but something felt wrong today."