Page 17 of Shattered Silence Duet

His smile is kind, but I’m not sure if I believe him. He doesn’t know anything about me.

The boys exchange a look that seems a little nervous. What could they possibly have to be nervous about?

“We were wondering…” Jasper starts, “do you want to come over and hang out with us after school? We could work through some homework if you’d like—or play a game or watch a movie?”

He seems nervous about my answer, which seems strange to me. I can’t imagine anyone turning him down. I wouldloveto hang out with them—it’s like something out of the movies. We’d become best friends, hanging out every day and laughing at inside jokes. But reality crashes in, and I almost jump back, shaking my head fast. My mother will be expecting me home.

“That’s okay, maybe tomorrow? Or another day…” Max offers quickly, trying to soften the rejection.

I shrug, avoiding their eyes.

“Angel, do you have a cell phone? So we can call or text you tonight?” Jasper asks.

I shake my head.

“We’ll have to fix that,” Max mumbles, almost too low for me to hear. I’m not sure what he means by that. My mother will never allow me to have a phone.

The rest of lunch passes quickly. I realize I only have a fewmore minutes before my third period art class that I haven’t made it to yet, and need to use the bathroom.

I stand and grab my bag. Max follows, standing with me. “Ready for class, Sweetheart?” he asks with a smile.

I shake my head, unsure how to tell him I need the bathroom. Ireallydon’t want to mime that. He studies me as I shift slightly from foot to foot.

“You want to go somewhere…” he muses aloud, piecing it together.

His eyebrows shoot up in realization as Jasper chuckles behind me. “Ah, yes, let’s take a bathroom break before class, shall we?”

Max takes my hand, and I nod gratefully. The three of us stop outside the bathrooms, as Jasper says, “we’ll wait for you here.” Max releases my hand, and I step into the women’s restroom.

As I finish up in a stall, I hear two girls talking at the counter.

“Did you hear Jack is back in school this week?” one girl asks.

“No way! His sister’s only been gone for two weeks! I’d have used that excuse to stay home the rest of the semester,” the other replies.

“Maybe he didn’t want to be at home anymore. Maybe he needed the distraction?”

“Yeah, I’m sure it’s hard to get the image of your sister’s raped and murdered body out of your head.”

What the hell?Raped and murdered?

“Do you think it’s related to the girl that was found in the woods a few months ago?”

“The cops on the news said they weren’t related, but what are the chances? There’s never been any murders here, and now we have two in the same year.” Great. Now I have something else to worry about.

Their conversation shifts to Friday’s party as they leave the bathroom.

As I finish up, washing my hands, I wonder if I really want to escape my house, being stuck in the basement all the time. At leastI knew what to expect there. This world feels like it’s spiraling into chaos, and I haven’t even finished my first week.

It took me three days, but I finally make it to my art class. It’s a big room, more like an actual art studio, with easels arranged haphazardly all over the place. The twins introduce me to the teacher, Mr. Dalton, who sets me up at an easel in the corner with my back to the wall. I appreciate that. He’s a large man—not tall, but with a large belly. He seems friendly enough, and I don’t get any weird vibes from him. He explains that students are working on their individual projects and hands me a book on painting techniques to practice.

The class starts to fill, and I notice the blue-haired girl from the hallway the other day. When she sees me, she smiles and comes over. “Hey, you’re in this class! Why haven’t I seen you here yet?” I just shrug and look at my blank canvas, avoiding eye contact.

“I’m Alex, we met the other day.” I give her a little smile and nod to show I remember.

“So you really don’t talk?” she asks in a whisper. I shake my head and play with the paintbrushes at my side.

“That’s so cool. Everyone tells me I talk too much anyway. You’ve got that cool mysterious vibe going on, you know?” She nods as if agreeing with herself, and I relax a little. She seems like she’s genuinely trying to be nice, with no hidden meaning behind her words.