Shattered Girls (Broken Dolls Book 2) (7 page)

BOOK: Shattered Girls (Broken Dolls Book 2)
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I wish he knew I was real.

“Yeah.” Gabby shifts uncomfortably in her seat. “Is it true, though? Are all the cheerleaders missing?”

“I haven’t seen them today, but honestly, didn’t think much of it. I don’t recognize people’s faces very well.” He strokes that gorgeous crooked chin of his. “Cursed prosopagnosia.” Oh, Principal Tony and his quirks. “I’ll call the police and see what’s going on. And, of course, send out a search team for Lacy and contact her parents at once. Thanks for coming to see me, Gabby. You might’ve just saved a life.”

I wait for him to thank me, too, but then remember I’m just the extremely intelligent robot. I
hate
living a lie.

“I hope so. Thanks, Principal Tony. I better get to Spanish.”

“Certainly. Ciao, Gabby!” Oh. He speaks Spanish, too. Where do his talents end? If I had a heart, I’d clasp my hands to it.

Gabby dawdles down the empty corridor, scuffing her feet. She’s trying to act cool, but I can tell the Lacy incident is bothering her.

“The Lacy thing is bothering me,” Gabby mumbles. Wow, I’m good.

“I know.” I nod. “It’s bothering me too. But we’ve done all we can do.”

“Did we, though?”

“Gabby, you’re a kid. I’m a doll. Our only power in this world is telling an older person and hoping they’ll fix it. We did that.”

“I guess…” Gabby enters the classroom, all eyes on her. “Sorry I’m late. I was with the principal.”

The class oohs in a way that implies she was in trouble. Ms. Wilson hushes them and scratches her wrist, bumping the somewhat tarnished bracelet.

“Is everything okay, Gabrielle?”

“Not really, but it’s not my problem.” Gabby drops her bag, kicking it until it wedges in between the legs of her desk. She sits down and immediately copies the phrases on the board into her workbook. We’re seated in the middle of the room, which kind of sucks. It means you can hear nearly everything that everyone says.

Just now, they are nattering about Gabby.

It’s nothing bad. It’s mainly about me and why a sixteen-year-old is still obsessed with a doll, even if it is a fancy robot. A lot of people have grown to accept me, especially after the video went viral, but Gabby still doesn’t have many friends. It’s all those stupid mental health rumors. None of which is true, which is why it hurts so much.

“Say: estoy esperando el tren.”

“Estoy esperando el tren,” the class mumbles.

“Now, nadie está en el tren.”

“Nadie está en el tren.”

Something whizzes past and lands on the desk. It’s scrunched up paper… a note. Gabby unfolds it and leans in to interpret the scribble. I’m a better reader since I started going to school, so it doesn’t take me long to work it out.

CHECK OUT MY ROBOT. BETTER THAN URS. HA!

Gabby cranes her neck to find the writer, settling on Maddie, who stares at us with a smug grin. Maddie is one of those kids that no one likes, mainly because she puts herself in an instant horse race with everyone she meets. The sad part is, she could be quite pretty, if her face wasn’t always scrunched up into a devious sneer. She’s had the same hairstyle for years; a dark bob that looks like she washes it with three bottles of shampoo and conditioner each night. I am all for personal hygiene, but there’s a limit.

Maddie points to her pencil case and whispers into it. When nothing happens, she frowns and taps the table. It kind of looks like she’s trying to convince something to come out, but not having much luck.

“What’s she doing?” I whisper.

Gabby rolls her eyes. “Again, not my problem. I need to concentrate. I’m flunking Spanish.”

“Do you need Spanish to be an architect or to work in IT?”

“No, but I need it to graduate high school to
become
an architect or to work in IT.”

I shrug. “Hmm. Weird.”

The bell rings, way earlier than it should.

“This class went fast!” John whoops with marginally forced enthusiasm, but no one quite packs up.

It rings longer than it usually does. We exchange confused looks until Ms. Wilson gasps.

“Kids.” Her throat tightens. “It’s lockdown. Quick, everyone, under your desks! John, close the blinds!” Ms. Wilson hurries to the door and flicks the lock, before daintily tiptoeing back to her desk. She crouches next to it, instead of under it, periodically reminding everyone to be quiet.

The bell doesn’t stop ringing. It’s horrible—hiding in silence beneath a desk, with not one of us the wiser.

There’s a high-pitched scream, followed by heavy footsteps slamming down the corridor.

“I’ll kill them if they come near me!” It’s Lacy, but her voice is low and hoarse. She sounds demonic. “I’ll kill them all!”

Several of us whimper, frantically grasping onto someone’s,
anyone’s
, hand. I tug on Gabby’s hair, far too anxious to stay put.

“Show yourselves!” Lacy cries, her silhouette hovering outside the frosted window in the door. “I am the last cheerleader! Come and get me!”

“I can’t stay here listening to this, Gabby,” I whisper when Lacy disappears down the corridor.

She winces. “Me neither.”

I brace myself as Gabby shoots up from under the desk and races for the door.

“Gabrielle! Stop! What are you doing?” Ms. Wilson shrieks, but we’ve already left them behind. Gabby sprints through the halls, skidding as she turns the corners.

“Will we get in trouble for this?” I ask, my vision blurred. Everything blurs when Gabby runs fast.

“You won’t. I will.” She comes to an abrupt halt when she spots Lacy who... I goggle. The girl’s leaning against a locker, brandishing a knife. I guess she must’ve raided the food-tech lab.

Gabby approaches with her hands in the air. “Lacy? What’s going on? You’ve got the school on lockdown,” she says calmly over the piercing ring.

“I want those men to come back! I want them to come back so I can kill them with my bare hands!” Suddenly, Lacy taps the end of the knife and drives it into the locker she’s leaning against. She grins, kind of horrifyingly pleased. “Yep! That’s exactly what I’ll do to them.”

I flinch and poke Gabby. “What’s happened to her? Has she gone mad?”

“I… don’t think so? It’s the lack of sleep, the guilt, the emotions…” Gabby shrugs. “But don’t I ask me. I don’t even play a shrink on TV.”

Lacy leaves the knife in and creeps closer, refusing to blink. She tilts her head to the side and speaks in a soft monotone, “Did you know I was the first to notice the mist seeping through the windows? Most of the girls didn’t even know what hit them. They just fell into a deep sleep, so it was easy for the men to drag them away. The others went into a rage when the mist got them. It flicked a switch in their brains, and it made them fighters. The mist never got me, so I ran. I ran like the coward I am. So now, I need them to find me so I can kill them. I need to prove I’m not a spineless coward!”

“You’re no coward,” I whisper. “Lacy, you were smart to run. But this is unnecessary. You need to go home and let the police take care of it.”

She blinks, but it’s only to combat the tears. “Didn’t you listen? I
can’t
go to the police! Are you deaf?!”

“You have to calm down.” Gabby lowers her hands. “The police will take you away.”

“I’ll fight them.”

“You can’t fight them! You need their help!”

Before Lacy can reply, a loud voice reverberates through the school. “
DON’T MOVE
!” Gabby instinctively drops to her knees when a swarm of cops gathers at the end of the corridor.

Lacy attempts to pull the knife from the locker, but it’s wedged in tight. She gives up and sprints, desperately ducking and weaving. She punches the first officer in the chest, but her dainty fist barely packs a blow. He scoops her up, grunting when she thrashes in his grasp.

“You can’t hold me!” Lacy screams. “I’ll die first!”

Officer Bloom—Devin’s dad—takes the lead, bending down so that he can speak at her level. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep, pet.” He spots Gabby and makes a noise somewhere in between a laugh and a grunt. He rests his hands on his belt, his boots squeaking when he steps towards us. “Afternoon, Gabby. Ella.”

“Hey, Mr. Bloom,” we say sheepishly.

“I’m on duty, so it’s Officer Bloom.”

“Hey, Officer Bloom,” we correct in unison.

Officer Bloom nods once at the policeman restraining Lacy. “Take her down to the station, and call her folks so we can sort this mess out.”

Principal Tony jogs down the hall, but his footsteps don’t make a sound. He’s almost elf-like.

“Ben!” Principal Tony is exasperated. “Everything okay?”

“Good afternoon, Tony,” Officer Bloom rolls his shoulders back and straightens all of his something-something feet and whatever inches—hey, I
am
a doll. I’m not great with these guesstimations. Dev’s father is older, fatter and perpetually grumpy, but he seems to have an inferiority complex around Principal Tony. “We’re taking the young lady to the station where we’ll straighten out this mess.”

Principal Tony rubs that crooked chin of his. He often does that when he’s unsure of something. Not that I’ve been keeping track. “I’m so sorry for all of the mess. It’s been a weird couple of days.”

“Tell me about it. The amount of missing locals has skyrocketed. It’s a bad time to be on the force, I can tell you that.” Officer Bloom glances at Gabby. “You. Gabrielle. We might need to take you in for questioning.”

Gabby steps forward. She looks annoyed, but she’s shaking all over. “How come?”

“We need to know what you were saying to Lacy before we showed up. Shouldn’t you have been in lockdown?”

“I think I can field that one.” Principal Tony shoots Gabby a comforting smile. “This has all been stressful enough for the students. Let me grab my jacket, and I’ll meet you at the station. I’ll fill you in on everything.”

Officer Bloom darts his eyes from Principal Tony to us several times before responding with that half-laugh, half-grunt noise. He then sniffs and motions towards Gabby.

“How are your folks, girl?”

She flinches. Then gulps. Tiny droplets well in her eyes. But she composes herself within a heartbeat.

“Fine,” she says. “Couldn’t be better.”

Officer Bloom shrugs. “Fair enough. Don’t be a stranger, now. Dev mentioned you have some sort of group assignment due next week.”

Crap. I’d forgotten about that. By the looks of Gabby’s wide eyes, she has too.

“Ah, yeah.” She scratches behind her ear. “Science. I’ll organize a study session this weekend. I’ll see you at your place, then.”

“Good.” A man of few words. Unless he’s watching football. Then, he uses lots of words. Lots of words I don’t like to say.

Officer Bloom follows the policemen and Lacy out of the building. The bell shuts off, and I’m surprised by the silence. I’ve already become accustomed to the squeal. It’s funny how quickly you can adapt.

“It’s been a long morning, Gabby.” Principal Tony massages his left shoulder. “You shouldn’t have to endure this at your age. F.Y.I., I wouldn’t have any qualms if you went to sickbay just to rest up. I don’t believe in unnecessary stress.” He doesn’t wait for us to respond. “Education is important, but so is living.”

“Are you like really encouraging me to skip class?”

Principal Tony grins. “Nothing of the sort. I just wouldn’t have any qualms if you did. Keep the world bright, Gabby.”

He rests a hand on her shoulder—the one I’m not on, unfortunately—and continues down the hall, still elf-like. God, he’s beautiful.

Gabby looks at me and sighs. “What do you think, Ella? Are you keen for a trip to sickbay?”

I scrunch up my nose. “I hate that place. Remember that time you tripped in volleyball, and we could see your ankle bone sticking through the skin?”

She shudders. “I deliberately blocked that memory out.”

“Would we be breaking the rules too much if we just went home? We only have a couple of hours before we pick up the professor, anyway.”

Gabby chews her lip. “Have I ever followed the rules?”

I shrug. “‘I’m sure there was a time when you did.”

She grins mischievously. “I don’t even know that girl.”

he town is busier than I thought it would be. We’ve never skipped school before, so I’ve never seen it at this time of day, other than on a weekend. There’s a lot more hustle and bustle.

BOOK: Shattered Girls (Broken Dolls Book 2)
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