The Hit List (25 page)

I struggle through barre exercises, barely hearing what Miss Jasmine says. I’m too busy trying to piece together the events of the morning. Brandon doesn’t seem to be in an ounce of trouble, but Luke’s been gone for fifty-seven minutes.

Floor exercises are torture. What if Luke doesn’t come back? The promise he made last night seems so far away in the light of day. He’ll never be able to promise that he won’t leave. Even if we stay at the same school, he’ll get over me eventually and move on to some other girl.

“Sadie, are you all right?” Miss Jasmine asks.

Half the class turns to look at me. I look down at the floor. I don’t like it when everyone stares at me.

“I’m fine,” I manage.

Drills are too much. I’m so frazzled that I can barely stay still long enough to keep my balance. I stare at the clock as the seconds tick by, passing the time until I can get out of this room and find out what’s going on. My eyes drift over to Brielle beside me. She looks just as nervous.

When class ends, I grab Brielle’s arm and drag her out into the hallway. Brandon walks out of the classroom and glares at us before heading toward the studios. I glare at his back as he walks away.

“Did I get Luke expelled?” I ask Brielle quickly. This is my fault. It never would have happened if I hadn’t been there. He can’t lose this opportunity for Fall Showcase. I know how much it means to him. To us.

“You didn’t do anything,” Brielle says, sympathy in her eyes.

“That’s not a no.”

The last of the kids file out of the classroom. Brielle watches them drift down the hallway. “I’m not really sure. There’s a zero tolerance policy for fighting here. His parents are the head of the department, but they also have to protect the school’s reputation. Those two guys that were fighting over that girl last month got expelled,” she says.

I run my hands through my hair. This whole situation is so fucked up. Why couldn’t things be normal between Luke and me? Why did I have to fall for him? And why did I put his career in jeopardy? He’s going to hate me.

Brielle wraps an arm around my shoulder and pulls me into her side in an awkward hug. “Come on. We’re going to be late. Plus, you need to find Luke.”

16

Luke sits outside our studio when I arrive. At least he hasn’t been kicked out yet. That means there’s still a chance to save him.

“Hey,” I say.

He stands up when I reach him. “Hey.”

“What did Miss Catherine say?”

He looks at the ground. “I’m suspended for a week. I’m not allowed in the studio during class times. I only hung around so I could tell you.”

My mouth falls open. A week? How are we supposed to rehearse? He can’t be suspended for a week. I’ve never gone that long without seeing him since we met. “She can’t suspend you. This is because of me—I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault. I knew better than to punch him.” He leans against the wall next to the studio door.

Yeah, except the only reason he punched Brandon was because of me. “You never would have done it if I hadn’t been there.”

For the first time, I understand that closing myself off to other people doesn’t only protect me, it protects them, too. Without his feelings for me, Luke wouldn’t have felt the need to protect me from Brandon. And he wouldn’t be suspended right now.

He reaches out to touch my arm, but I pull away. I don’t deserve him. He needs to find another girl who doesn’t have so many issues.

He sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Don’t do this, Sadie. Not after we’ve worked so hard.”

“I’m not doing anything.” But I am. I’m slowly pulling away and I know it. It’s probably for the best anyway.

“I can’t do this right now.” He scrunches his eyes closed and runs his hands through his hair. “I have to go. Mom will be pissed if she sees me still hanging around here.” He walks away from me, heading toward the dorms.

Time apart is probably good for us anyway. I see him the most out of anyone, even Brielle. We might have taken a giant leap backward today, but it was for the best. A little distance will be good for us. We can focus on Fall Showcase and put everything else on the back burner for now.

Miss Tasha’s class is brutal.

It’s more of a boot camp than a class since I’m the only one there. She drills me with technique exercises for an hour until she finally teaches me some new solo choreography. She’s quick to criticize every flaw she can find. By the time three o’clock rolls around, I’m exhausted from all the work, irritated that she’s in such a bad mood, and crabbier than shit that Luke isn’t here to deflect some of her anger.

“You’re distracted, Sadie. Focus,” she yells as I lose my balance coming out of a fouette pirouette.

I glare at her. My partner is beating up students and getting suspended. Of course I’m distracted.

I miss Luke. I didn’t think I would, but he helps balance out rehearsal. I miss his jokes and the way he would fight back with Miss Tasha. And I miss the way he would stand up for me.

She turns the music off in the middle of my dance. “It’s clear that we’re both in a bad mood. You’ve worked hard today. Take a break. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Gladly,” I say, grabbing my bag and storming out of the studio.

Brielle is sitting on her bed when I walk back into our room. “Miss Jess let us out early because we were doing so well. How was class? Did you find Luke?” she asks.

I fling my bag into the closet. It hits the wall with a loud thump. Flopping onto my bed, I bury my face in my pillow.

Rehearsal was a nightmare. It’s hard to focus on anything when all I’m worried about is Luke and when he’ll be back at rehearsal.

“That well, huh?”

I turn to face her. “Luke’s suspended for a week.”

“That’s harsh,” she says, frowning.

“I had practice by myself today. I think Luke’s pissed at me for getting him suspended.” And even though he doesn’t know it, I’m pissed at him for an enormous amount of things. The list is never ending, really. The suspension for fighting, the delay on Fall Showcase practice when we really need it and the doubt that’s slowly crept in over the course of the day about whether or not we can make something work when the odds are stacked against us.

“I’m sure he’s not mad at you,” she says.

“Tell that to him,” I grumble.

“If anyone should be mad here, it’s you. How are you supposed to be ready for Fall Showcase?” Brielle coats her fingernail in a layer of bright red nail polish. She blows on the nail when she’s done. Like it will help it dry any faster.

“I can’t get ready for Fall Showcase.”

Without a partner, I can’t rehearse my partner dance. Solos aren’t allowed in Fall Showcase this year. So if Luke gets banned from performing, I’m screwed.

“You should probably go talk to him,” Brielle says. “Tell him just how mad you are.”

“You think?” The idea is tempting. After the three-hour rehearsal I had alone with Miss Tasha, it will feel good to get some anger off my chest.

“Totally. And then you should have angry makeup sex.”

I gape at her. “I don’t think so.”

Brielle laughs. “Well, at least have an angry make-out session. Get all that sexual tension out there.” She waves her hands around in front of her.

She can’t be serious. Like I would ever do that.

“Well, it works for me,” she says, shrugging.

I narrow my eyes at her. “I have no doubt.”

Someone knocks on the door, but doesn’t wait for us to answer. Adam walks through it and shuts it behind him. “Did you guys hear?”

“We already know Luke got suspended,” Brielle says.

Adam’s eyes widen, apparently forgetting his own news. “Luke got suspended?”

Brielle rolls her eyes. “This is old news. What happened?”

He pauses for a second, like he’s thinking about what it was he actually came in here for. “There was a story on the news about The Hit List. Someone started a copycat game in Texas and some girl was sexually assaulted by a guy claiming he was participating in the game. The names of the girls up for points were announced publicly. The parents are pressing charges.”

“Oh, my God,” Brielle says.

I’m horrified. How could someone let this get so out of control? Now some poor girl in Texas is living with the ultimate betrayal. How many girls at The Conservatory have been hurt by this game already? And how many more will be hurt before it’s all over? I’ve already seen a handful of girls here get hurt first hand.

Brielle leans back against the wall. “Is it really that crazy that this happened? I mean, it’s a bunch of guys competing for girls.”

“I thought it was supposed to be shut down, but now it’s back. How is it even still running?” I’m furious that this happened. All because some boys wanted to have a little fun at some girls’ expense.

“Yeah, but I’m sure they have no idea who started it even if they can guess who’s been playing.” Adam crosses his arms over his chest and leans against the wall.

“I think it’s Luke.” Brielle stares at the comforter on my bed.

It’s not. It can’t be. But hearing it from Brielle is somehow harder than hearing it from someone else. She’s supposed to be my friend. She’s supposed to stick behind the things that are important to me. “Why would you say that?”

Her eyes widen as she looks up at me. “What? Sorry. You have to admit, it’s not like he’s completely innocent here. I’m pretty sure he played the last two years.”

I refuse to believe he’s the one behind the blog. Despite everything—the flirting, the girls—I trust him enough to know he could never do this. He might not be proving he’s stellar boyfriend material, but I already knew he wasn’t. He still cares about what happens to people.

“It’s not him.”

She holds her hands up in surrender. “Okay. Whatever you say.” Brielle sits down at her computer. She pulls up a search engine, looking for the story. “Whoever did it is messed up.”

I don’t believe I’ve changed her mind. Brielle is too hard-headed to ever give up that quickly on an idea. She probably just doesn’t want to hear what else I have to say about it.

Whoever created the game here and the copycat in Texas is sick. I completely agree with her. But that person wasn’t Luke.

Adam’s cell phone rings and he fishes it out of his pocket. “Hello?”

He pauses, listening to the person on the other end of the line while we stare at him.

“I’ll be right down.” He pushes the screen on his phone and slips it back into his pocket. “I have to go. Jake is downstairs waiting. We’ll talk more about this later.” He walks out the door, waving at us as he goes.

“Have fun,” Brielle says, shutting the door behind him.

I lie down on the bed and throw my arm over my eyes. It’s too early to sleep, but that doesn’t stop me from wanting to escape reality for a little while. It’s too depressing here. My phone rings with a text message. I grab it off the nightstand. A picture. It downloads and I stare at it, not believing what I’m seeing.

It’s Luke. With a girl. I recognize his clothes from Crave. He leans close to the blond. It’s like déjà vu of all the times I’ve seen him with girls in the past.

He kissed her. The same night he told me he wanted me to be his exception. He’s so full of shit. He didn’t mean a damn word he said. From the looks of it, he’s not as innocent as he claims about playing in The Hit List.

“Oh, my God.”

“What?” Brielle jumps off her bed and sits down next to me, her hair tickling my arm as she leans in to see my phone. She squints at the picture. “Is that Noelle?”

“And Luke. That’s the shirt he was wearing when we were at Crave the other night.” I drop my phone and lie down on my bed.

The picture of Luke and Noelle kissing in the middle of Crave will be burned into my memory for eternity.

“Give me that.” Brielle picks up my phone and punches some numbers. She holds the phone up to her ear. “It’s a message saying the phone’s been disconnected.”

“Who does that?” Frustration burns in my chest. Whether Luke is involved with The Hit List is debatable, but the games he continues to play with my head are undeniable. Brandon, Noelle at Crave, The Hit List girls. It’s too much. How can I trust him when there’s always someone else? I’ve let myself fall for him, and it only hurts me. Over and over.

“You should go. To Luke’s.”

“I can’t just go over there.”

“Tell him why you’re mad. Maybe he’ll tell you why he’s mad.”

“I already know why he’s mad.”

“Just go talk to him,” she says.

Brielle pushes me out into the hallway and shuts the door behind me. The deadbolt clicks into place. I pound on the door. You’ve got to be kidding me.

“Brielle! Come on. I don’t have my keys. Let me back in.”

“I’ll let you in once you talk to Luke,” she yells through the door.

“Seriously?” I yell back. She can’t lock me out of my own room. Luke isn’t going to tell me anything I don’t already know. It’s pointless to talk to him.

A couple of the theater students walk past in the hallway, watching me the whole time. “You could at least pretend like you’re not staring,” I snap.

I don’t have time for these girls. I know I look crazy pounding on the door but I don’t really care. They should mind their own business. I hit the door one last time with my open palm and stomp off to Luke’s room.