The weather is nippy, so I click the unlock button on my key ring and throw open the driver's side car door barely missing the sleek convertible in the parking space next to me by about a centimeter. Shit, that could've been bad. That's Celena's car. She'd murder me in point two seconds.
Celena is queen of the blonde squad. She has seven other blondies practically worshipping her and the dirt she walks upon. She is a filthy person with absolutely zero kindness within her soul. If I scraped her car with my bright green paint, I would be shredded to smithereens by her artificial finger nails. I am horrified by thinking about it.
I slide my bookbag off my back and toss it into the back and fall into the seat behind the steering wheel. I slam my car door shut, put my key in the ignition, and crank the engine. The heat gets turned on full blast, 80 degrees. I feels amazing. I absorb the warm temperature and lean my head back and close my eyes.
When I open them again, I notice there is a figure at the edge of the parking lot. I squint and soon realize. . . its Reid.
YOU ARE READING
Broken
Mystery / ThrillerOne piece of broken glass. The sweat is pooling above my brow. Where did it come from...? It couldn't have fallen from the ceiling. There's no windows. No mirrors. Just a singular piece of glass. And I see my reflection. And then I fall.
