Page 153 of The Silent Note

“How you wrapped Zane around your pinky finger.”

“I’m going to take that as a compliment.”

He doesn’t respond, but the silence is enough of a confirmation.

“I need to get to class. You’ll call me if there’s a breakthrough?”

“I already said I would,” he answers but the tone isn’t as impatient as it was when I first called.

After hanging up on Finn, I walk the empty hallways in the direction of my class. On my way, I notice students watching me from inside their classrooms.

Why is everyone staring at me?

I check to make sure I’m not dragging toilet paper under my shoes or having a wardrobe malfunction, but everything is fine.

This is so weird.

I walk a little faster. Maybe I should have taken Zane up on his offer of staying in the hotel room. I’d at least be having more fun than this.

Sloane, where are you?

My best friend being a no-show is starting to get to me.

I pick up a low hum of voices when I near my classroom. Steps quickening, I approach the door, stunned to find every seat in the room filled.

“Good morning, Miss Jamieson,” the class calls in unison.

My eyebrows cinch together. “G-good morning.”

What is going on right now? My pulse thumps loudly in my ears. I try to make sense of what I’m seeing. There are several faces that do not belong in my classroom, yet everyone is seated, books open and waiting primly for me to begin.

“Uh, you.” I point to a boy in the front row.

He shoots to his feet. “Yes, Miss Jamieson!”

I cringe at his loud tone. “You’re not in this class.”

“No, ma’am, I’m not.” He stares straight ahead, arms rigid at his waist.

“So…” I glance around. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m here for class, ma’am.”

“You’re not a senior. I’ve never seen you before.”

“I’m a freshman, ma’am.”

“A freshman?” I gasp.

“I’ve always wanted to take your class, ma’am, but I was told you might not be here after this semester and if I want to be taught by you, I need to sit in one of your lectures now.”

“Who started that rumor?”

The boy casts his eyes to the ground.

I catch the eyes of a girl I recognize from the student council. “You.”

She rises unsteadily. “Yes, Miss Jamieson.”

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