Broken by Tanille Edwards Page B

quietly aching. Inside, I felt fear. One of my professors once said that fear was detrimental to all that made us smile. I was alittle afraid of being ridiculed and … dethroned. Even though I had not asked to be put on top of the A-list, losing it all would make me … fragile. Just crazy.
    There was a voice inside that wondered if that was just what I needed so people could really see me. Could that be the reason I had signed up for enough AP classes to be a college freshman? I was trying so hard. There were some new things about school. While the uniforms were much the same, the faces looked different.
    â€œGet a load of the Salem witch trials over here,” Sierra texted me.
    Frenchy had dyed her hair jet black. And stopped all of her Fake Bake. It was a little dramatic. I caught an eyeful of her questioning Courtney, who seemed to be ready to go.
    â€œI’ll catch up with you soon, Milan,” Courtney said to me as she bolted from the table.
    â€œWhat did Frenchy say to her?” I texted Sierra.
    I smiled and said, “It was nice meeting you,” to Courtney. That’s all I could do: smile. I had barely talked to the girl.
    â€œWe’ll talk soon, Courtney!” I winked at her.
    â€œI think she worried that Courtney was her replacement,” Sierra responded.
    I wondered what Frenchy might do if she broke into Sierra’s phone and read all the texts about her.
    They were both equally smart and pretty—and just as witty, in differing ways. We all had on our silver charm necklaces. Sierra and I had gotten cotton-candy pink manicures the other day. I usually kept my nails long and rounded. Sierra kept herssquared and long. Frenchy had them paint hers vamp-red and cut them down low to the finger tip.
    â€œI’m getting hungry.”
    â€œDitto,” Sierra said.
    â€œUh. Here we go again. I thought you had expanded your lame slang repertoire!” Frenchy said.
    â€œOkay, who’s getting lunch with me? I want a sandwich and maybe two sushi rolls,” I said.
    Some girl covered my eyes. My heart started to pound. I wouldn’t know one thing that anyone said. I ripped them off my face. There was a blue Tiffany’s box on the table in front of me. What was this? Sierra threw me a look of despair. The girl put her hand around the box. I noticed her nails were the same color as Frenchy’s. When she unwrapped the ribbon around the box, I noticed the sunlight caught the heart charm on her bracelet. It was supposed to be silver and lavender, but hers was kind of tainted. Undoubtedly, it had to be Cara.
    She sat next to me. I nearly jumped out of my skin. That bracelet looked strikingly similar to the necklace I had picked out for the twins and me to wear the first day of school. My eyes slowly crept up from the bracelet on Cara’s wrist to her blazer jacket to the necklace—my necklace around her neck!
    â€œGonna open it, doll face?” she said. I smiled. Why? Our friendship was peculiar. She was always there, around, somehow. I still didn’t know how she knew I went to the hotel with Merek.
    I reluctantly pulled the lid off what used to be a wonderful sight to see. I gently placed the top over the white ribbon that lay beside the box. There it was: the silver charm bracelet that matched our necklaces. I looked back at Cara. She grabbed her charm necklace. So I did the same. She smirked. Sierra was right. We shouldn’t have gotten one for Frenchy. There was something going on between them.
    â€œI scooped up one of these for everyone as, like, a gift, you know,” she said. What did that mean … “you know”?
    â€œThanks,” I said. I closed the box.
    We were going to have to do something about her. Cece was obviously scared of Cara. I couldn’t say exactly why, but it was everything I didn’t know about her that sent a chill down my back.
    Merek came over to our table. He looked handsome. His hair was cut low