Broken (5 page)

“No.”

“Cam didn’t tell you?” Adrianna asks. She’s looking at me carefully, probably able to tell from my face and my tone that something’s not right with me and Cam.

But I don’t want to get into it in front of Chelsey, and maybe not at all, so I just say, “I lost my cell so we haven’t been able to text all morning.” I sigh, like not being able to text him is driving me crazy, in a normal teen angst kind of way.

Adrianna nods, like this satisfies her. “Well, I guess it was kind of a big deal.

Something with Aidan and Cam and Lancaster, although nobody really knows what since they all got sent home.” She takes a sip of her diet Sprite. “Do you think I should text him?”

“Lancaster?” Chelsey says. She has her phone out, her fingers flying over the keyboard as she texts someone. “No way, not after what he did to you at the dance.”

“Not Lancaster. Aidan.” Adrianna’s cheeks flush.

“If you want.” Chelsey shrugs, obviously not understanding that Adrianna might be getting a little crush on Aidan. It’s a weird pairing, but whatever. I’m not going to judge.

“I think you totally should,” I say, and give her a smile. “I’m sure he’d be glad to hear from you.”

Adrianna’s cheeks flush darker as she smiles back at me. We spend the rest of lunch talking about random things – if college is better than high school, how some cheerleader got caught with marijuana in her locker, if it’s worth it to spend eighty dollars on a pair of skinny jeans -- and I force myself to engage in the conversation.

But all I really want to do is leave, and I think about calling my mom and telling her I don’t feel good and to come and get me. But if I do that, I know she’s going to flip out and insist I go see a doctor. So I force myself through the rest of the day, walking like a zombie through the halls and to my classes. After another dose of Advil my headache fades to a minor annoyance, and by the time my mom picks me up after school, it’s completely gone.

“Hey,” she says as I climb into the car. “How was your day?” She’s trying to sound casual, but I can see the way she’s looking at me, the way her eyes slide up my body, taking in every inch of me like she’s afraid there’s going to be something else wrong.

“It was fine,” I say and shrug. “Just a normal day at school.”

She nods, then pulls out onto the traffic circle and then onto the main road. “So I was thinking we could go and get you a new cell,” she says. “You can’t keep mine all the time, and you definitely should have a phone.”

I shrug. She’s right -- I probably should have a phone. But right now I’m having trouble mustering up any kind of excitement for anything. She drives to the shopping plaza down the street from the school and pulls into the AT&T store.

The bell tinkles over the door as we walk in, and I immediately head over to the display of iPhones while my mom goes to look for a salesperson. I read through the list of features, wondering if there’s anything about iPhones that make them safer or better built, something I can use to get my mom to think they’re the best choice.

I pick one up and run my finger over the touchscreen, dialing Cam’s number, but of course the phone’s not hooked up. I wonder where he is, if there’s any way I can get out of my house tonight and try to sneak over to his.

There’s giggling coming from the other side of the store, near the display of old school flip phones. The giggling sounds familiar, and I look up. But whoever it is is blocked by a huge cardboard map of the AT&T coverage area.

“You can’t put your own facebook page on all the screens,” the giggler says.

“I totally can,” a girl’s voice replies. “You never know what kind of hot guys might be in here checking the phones.”

“And they’re going to see your facebook page and contact you?”

“Yup.” More familiar giggling.

I peek around the corner of the cardboard so that I can get a better look at who it is that’s talking.

One of the girls looks up, her gaze meeting my eyes.

“Oh, hi, Natalia,” Becca says calmly. “Are you getting a new phone?”

“There are some cheap ones over there,” Teri adds.

My headache comes back full force. My gaze moves to the left of Becca and Teri. There’s a familiar figure standing with her back to me.

Raine.

She turns around and smiles at me, as if the two of us share a special secret. But she doesn’t say anything. Instead she whispers something to Becca and then the three of them exchange glances and walk out of the store together.

I don’t know what they’re planning. But the Triad is back.

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WITCHES OF SANTA ANNA, COMING

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