They’re already sifting through the papers in the folder, and Zay gives a dismissive shake of his head. “We’ll just hang out here for a while and get something to eat. We might go hang out at the bridge and smoke a bowl or two, if we’re feeling ambitious,” Zay tells me. “Just text us when tryouts are over, and we’ll let you know where we’re at.”

“Okay. Cool.” I start toward the door.

“Hunter?” Jax calls out.

I turn around. “Yeah?”

“Good luck,” he tells me with a small smile.

“Thanks.” I leave the diner feeling pretty good. But as soon as I climb into my car, my thoughts drift right back to Raven.

Who is this beautiful, mysterious girl with sad and familiar eyes?

I hope I can find out.

I also hope I’m not making a mistake by trusting my gut instinct and befriending her, if that’s even what I’m doing.

14

RAVEN

I keep expecting something to happen during school, like show up at my locker and find the word: murderer painted across it, which wouldn’t be the first time. By the end of the day, however, nothing has happened. So weird. Usually, Dixie May follows through with her threats right away.

I don’t relax as I grab my stuff and head out of the school, weaving around people cramming up the hallway. No one glances in my direction. Well, a few people do, but mostly out of curiosity over the new girl. It’s a weird feeling, not having people look at me like I’m a freak. But I know it won’t last.

Sighing at that thought, I push through the doors and search the area for my aunt’s car. Yeah, I know she said she wouldn’t give me a ride home, but if I sneak into the car and refuse to get out, she won’t have a choice.

But I can’t find it anywhere.

So weird. I mean, she has to pick up Dixie May, right? What if Dixie May got a ride home from one of her new friends that I’m sure she’s made? Crap, if that’s the case, then I’m screwed since I don’t even know what bus I’m supposed to be riding.

Sighing, I make a U-turn to go back to the main office and find out. But when I arrive there, no one is at the front desk. I wait a while before the secretary shows up.

“So, how was your first day?” she asks as she plops down in the seat behind the desk.

“Good,” I tell her honestly, which is a little weird.

“Good. That’s always good to hear.” She gives a short pause. “Is there something I can help you with?”

I nod. “I was wondering if you can help me figure out my bus number?”

“Sure.” She turns toward the computer. “What’s your address?”

When I tell her, she types it in the system then gives me the number.

“I hope you don’t need to ride it today, though,” she says, rotating the chair back in my direction then glancing at the clock. “The buses have probably already left.”