Saint Sloan (Saint Sloan #1)(9)

She raised up, ready to tell him every detail. “Boyd Lawrence.”

“What?”

“He…” The bell rang, cutting her off. She gave him her best ‘I’m sorry’ look and turned toward the front. Mrs. Knight, their new Biology teacher, shut the door behind her and went to her desk to gather her book and notes. As far as teachers went, Mrs. Knight was a pretty nice one. She was fair, which Sloan appreciated. She didn’t let Darcy get away with murder, and she didn’t let Tanner run all over her. The first few subs did after Mr. Lawrence, Boyd’s father, resigned when Boyd was in the hospital. Those subs hadn’t lasted long.

Mrs. Knight had been hired a few weeks ago as their permanent teacher. So far, so good. She looked to be in her thirties, though she’d never mentioned her age. She had long black hair, definitely unnatural. She never wore it up. Sloan wondered why until one day when she pulled it up in a brief ponytail while Sloan was at her desk asking a question. Underneath at the nape of her neck, Mrs. Knight had the most awesome bright red streak ever in her hair. The school board frowned on bright, unnatural hair color. Sloan thought it was awesome. She kept it to herself, though, not wanting Mrs. Knight to get in trouble. She liked her.

Mrs. Knight settled on her stool at the front of the class and told them what page they needed to turn to. Next week, they’d start dissection. Sloan was not looking forward to it. Ray thought it would be fun, and he promised to be her lab partner so she wouldn’t have to touch the animals.

God bless Ray.

Sloan flipped her book to the page Mrs. Knight said and opened her notebook. Her grades had suffered a little after her debacle with Boyd, and she wanted to bring them back up before she went to college. Sure, it was too late for a few scholarships, but the satisfaction was for her. To know that she could do it and not let Boyd win. She wouldn’t let him take anything from her again.

A few minutes later, she felt a tapping on her lower back. She reached behind, and Ray slid a piece of paper in her hand. As stealthily as she could, Sloan opened it and put it under her book. Boyd what? What did he do to make you late?

There was so much, too much to write on a small folded-up piece of paper. Thought I saw him. I was wrong. Called the cops. Big fiasco. Feel like an idiot.

Sloan discretely folded the paper up again and held it behind her. Ray took it from her hand and she waited. It was difficult to focus on the innards of a pig while waiting for Ray to reply.

A sharp corner of paper poked her ribs, and she grabbed it from him. Sure it wasn’t him?

Her eyes were sure it was him, but her brain knew better. Yeah.

Any idea who sent the flowers yesterday?

Nope.

Think there’s a connection?

Man, she hoped not. I don’t know. Don’t think so. Prob. Just my overactive imagination.

Ray didn’t answer her. Mrs. Knight instructed them to get out a piece of paper for a pop quiz. Sloan rolled her eyes. Of all the days not to listen.

After the horrible quiz that she needed divine intervention to pass, Sloan wanted to go home, crawl under her covers, and not come out until summer. It seemed the best course of action. Her day was shot anyway. At least she wasn’t hurting. And best of all, the pill Darcy had given her hadn’t killed her yet. Score one for her.

She packed her backpack and followed everyone else. She had every intention of grabbing Darcy and asking what the pill was she’d given her. When Sloan got in the crowded hallway, she didn’t see her.

“Who are you looking for?” Ray asked beside her.

“Nobody,” she lied. “So… how are you feeling today?” She grinned and started toward Trig. Ray followed as per usual.

“Feeling?”

“Yeah. After yesterday. Your first day being saved.”

Ray laughed and pushed his backpack up on his shoulder. “Fine. Good. I guess. I feel sort of different and sort of leery.”

“Why leery?”

“Because of what you went through when you got saved.”

“Oh.” Her shoes suddenly became very interesting to her. She’d gotten saved in August, and her life had started a downhill spiral soon after. Darcy had turned into her biggest enemy. Boyd had left her. He’d also tried to kill her, but who was keeping track of such things?

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to bring that up. I know how raw it is for you.”

Raw indeed.

“It’s okay. I’m glad you’re having a much easier time than I did. But to be fair, you weren’t as, um, much of a bad seed as I was when I got saved. I sort of did a three-sixty overnight, and people tend to talk when that happens.”

“People talk anyway. Nothing you can do to stop it.”

“Sadly,” she agreed when they got to the door to her classroom. “But nearly getting killed isn’t the norm for getting saved.” She didn’t think anyway. “I’m sure most people are more accepting than Darcy and… uh… here’s my stop.”

“Like every day.” Ray smiled. His expression wasn’t as confident as it had been before. He shifted on his feet and cleared his throat. “Ready for Friday?”

Friday. The prom. “Yup. Got my dress. Got my hair appointment. Got my dancing shoes. I’m ready to roll.”

“Red, right? Your dress is red?”

She nodded. “Candy apple red. I’ll stand out like a sore thumb, which one should do when going to the biggest dance of one’s life with a huge, hideous scar on one’s cheek.”