Broken Hill Hurt: The Broken Hill High Series (Book 3) by Sheridan Anne

Author:Sheridan Anne [Anne, Sheridan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-03-04T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 12

From the second I pull up at school on Tuesday morning, I have people I’ve never spoken to in my life hurrying up to me. “Tora,” some girl I’ve never met cries as she stops me in the parking lot. The strange girl with tears in her eyes throws her arms around. “Oh, my god. I’m so happy you’re ok. I thought that maybe… you know.”

“Well, I’m not,” I tell her, grabbing her by the shoulders and pushing her back off me. I don’t want to be dealing with this stuff all day, especially after I woke up to find Nate already gone this morning. I mean, that’s only ever happened once. I didn’t like it then, and I sure as hell didn’t like it now. But with my dad back… I guess things will be changing. I can’t believe I’m going to say this but, maybe it’s better if he goes back to London.

I step around the girl and dodge another before making my way up to the school. I get looks from every single person in the school. I mean, does everyone know about the fire? I guess most of the seniors and juniors were there and probably saw it, but all the younger kids?

This sucks.

I push my way through the door and walk down to my locker to find a candlelight massacre before it. There’s spray paint across it saying ‘R.I.P’, flowers taped to the metal, teddy bears on the ground with scented candles which only serves to give me a headache. “Oh, man,” I groan as I start grabbing candles and blowing them out. This is so damn embarrassing.

“Oh, Tora,” I hear cried over the sound of everything else happening in this hallway. I look up to find Mrs. Kingsley hurrying down the hall with a large trash bag. “I’m so sorry you had to see all this,” she says when she finally reaches me. “I thought I’d be able to get it cleaned up before you arrived.”

Clearly, you didn’t.

“It’s ok,” I tell her with a heavy sigh as I grab a teddy bear off the ground and dump it into the trash bag.

“How are you recovering?” she asks. “Your mom phoned the school to say you were doing ok, but I wanted to check in with you anyway. It must have been scary.”

“Scary doesn’t even begin to cover it,” I grunt as she tears flowers from the locker and throws them in. “Terrifying is more like it. I thought I was done for.”

“I can only imagine,” she tells me, giving me a look filled with sympathy. “I know it’s probably not your thing, but remember that we have a school counselor that you can talk to. I know she’s been very busy lately with students believing the worst.”

“I bet,” I grunt, dropping a candle in the bag with maybe a little too much force.

“What about Nate?” she questions. “I heard he suffered a broken rib.”

“Yeah,” I say. “He can handle it. It’s certainly not his first broken rib and I’m sure as hell it won’t be the last.

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