Page 12 of Habits

“Don’t worry. I have to write this music down anyway before I forget it. A little peace and quiet will do me good.”

Max nods, but his gaze lingers on me a few moments longer. Finally, he leans down, kissing the top of my head like he always does, and walks away.

Sighing, I pull my headphones and music sheet out of my backpack.

Last night I worked on some new music. Usually, I record every time I play. I don’t like to stop to write down the notes because it’s too distracting, so I record it and then play it later over and over again, working through the music and writing down the final melody.

Max likes to joke that I’m a musical prodigy, but in reality, I just like to play violin. Mom wanted me to learn how to play the piano, but even before I sat down, I knew it would bore me to death. I was just never patient enough to sit for hours. But the first time I heard the violin, I fell in love with the beautiful, haunting sound it produces. I begged her for months to let me switch my classes until she finally did.

I learned to play all the classical masterpieces—Bach, Mozart, take your pick—but what I really love to do is create something of my own. Something that reflects who I am as a person, how I’m feeling.

I feel the rawest when I play because in those moments I put my every thought and every feeling out in the open. Leaving myself bare for people to see, hear and hurt. So I play for myself. Hidden behind the four walls of my bedroom, where nobody can hear me.

For a while, I write in peace, but then a shadow falls over me. I wait for it to pass; after all, I picked the most secluded spot in the whole yard to be left alone. But when the shadow doesn’t move, I finally let the music sheet fall into my lap.

Lifting my gaze, I take her in. She’s wearing high-heeled booties and knee-length socks. Her skirt is shorter than what the school policy allows, but it’s not like anybody in the school cares. After all, this is a private school, and all of our parents pay big bucks for us to be here. Uniform means prestige, not equality.

Her tight, white shirt is tucked into her skirt, the top two buttons left undone, revealing her ample chest.

Finally, my eyes reach her face. Blue eyes look down at me with interest. She blinks a few times, long lashes fluttering and drawing my attention. Her skin is creamy and she’s wearing full make-up, but on her it looks elegant, not slutty. Pink eyeshadow makes her eyes stand out and lipgloss accentuates her already plump lips. Her brown hair is long and silky, falling in a straight line down her back.

Maddaline Adams.

The hottest freshman.

The Queen Bee of the first year.

Future Queen of the school.

I’m not even exaggerating.

She opens her mouth and starts talking, but the music still blasting in my ears prevents me from hearing her. Pulling the headphones out, I look at her.

“Yes?”

“Jeanette Sanders, right?” Her smile widens. “It’s so nice to meet you. I’m Maddaline and this is Lana and Nikki. Mind if we sit down?”

Maddaline doesn’t wait for me to answer. She simply sits down next to me, her hand covering mine.

“What were you doing?” Lana asks, peeking at my lap.

I look down at the music sheet and swiftly start straightening my papers before I put them safely in my backpack. “Oh, nothing. Just some school stuff.”

I rarely talk about my music with anybody except Max. It’s not that I’m ashamed of it or anything like that. I’ve never had friends close enough that I wanted to share my music with. And then there is the fact that not a lot of people—even musically talented people—can read and write their own music. Being school smart is hard as it is, but being school andmusicsmart is something completely different.

Maddaline looks at me for a second, but then joins in on her friends’ conversation. They gossip about the school’s faculty members and students. I mostly keep quiet, because to be honest, I don’t know what to think. What to say.

I’ve never hung out with other girls. Never had girlfriends to talk to, gossip with, discuss boys with, paint our toenails and have sleepovers. And to think that the most popular girl in school just came to me to hang out … it’s just surreal.

“What do you think, Jen?”

“Huh?”

“Milkshake after school?” Maddaline tilts her head to the side as she looks at me.

I nibble at my lower lip, thinking it through. I could be quiet as a mouse and keep to myself, always looking at the others and waiting for something. Or I could take this opportunity. My eyes find Max across the yard. No matter how far away we are, I can always feel him. Our twin bond is so strong, I feel him at all times.

“Why do you want me to come?” I ask, my gaze returning back to the three girls.

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