Trapped (Bullied Book 4) (Bullied Series) Vera Hollins (best large ereader txt) 📖

and smacked her thigh. “If someone ever makes him a wax sculpture at Madame Tussauds, they better capture that expression!”

I shook my head at her with a smile and went on my way, heading to the restroom to pee before I picked up what I needed for my next class from my locker. I passed next to the staircase in an almost empty hallway and froze when I heard Blake’s voice nearby. My good mood evaporated into thin air, my pulse accelerating at once.

“Is Isaac sure he’s the new racer?” he asked, and I looked all around me, trying to determine where his voice was coming from so I could escape in the other direction. “That means I may be closer to them than I’ve thought,” he said, and I realized he stood behind the staircase and wasn’t able to see me from that spot. There was no answer, which could only mean he was on the phone. “No. Don’t do anything. Let’s see if they’ll show their faces at the track.”

I moved slowly, planning to tiptoe until I was a safe distance away from him.

“Don’t worry.” His hushed voice drifted to me. “I’ve had this planned for a long time, so I won’t mess it up.”

The hairs on my neck stood up. Mess what up?

My Vans skidded soundlessly across the polished floor as I picked up my pace and rushed around the corner. With a sigh of relief, I allowed myself to run, stopping only when I reached the restroom.

Heaving, I leaned against the wall and placed my hands on my knees. I was disappointed with myself. I shouldn’t have cared about his affairs or cryptic conversations, yet my heart beat faster because the conversation was about something that was obviously extremely important to him.

I should’ve been better than this. I always followed my heart, but this time, I had to stop being that hopeless romantic who believed in happy endings. There were no happy endings here. Blake would only ruin me, and if I kept obsessing over the hidden side of him, I would only get burned. Badly.

So, I had to be smarter than this.

I had a hunch, however, that my heart wouldn’t get the memo.

Blake wasn’t in the cafeteria during lunch, and by the end of last period, the rumors spread like the wind. One of them said Blake was necking some girl in an empty classroom. Another said he was banging her. And then there was the one saying he’d been caught in the act with a teacher.

As I packed things into boxes, surrounded by silence because Blake was late again, my mood went downhill. It wasn’t the first time such rumors had circulated around the school, but they bothered me nevertheless, which led to more self-reproach.

I was attacked by mental images of Blake holding some magazine-cover-worthy girl in his arms and making her feel everything I’d felt in that pitch-dark closet at the New Year’s party, and jealousy ate away at my stomach. I gripped the U tube and threw it into the box, dying to take my guitar and strum the strings until all my anxiety was gone.

Everything would be easier—way, way easier—if I could like someone like Kevin. Kev would never break my heart or devalue me. He would be sweet and nice, and I wouldn’t have to feel this hopeless because of my stubborn, stupid heart.

Blake stormed in, and I almost dropped the microscope I held in my hands, startled. He didn’t even look at me as he picked up an empty box and carried it to the far side of the room, which was probably for the best after our last run-in. I’d expected him to mock me for my fall or do a number on me, but he never even glanced my way as we worked quietly, which helped me relax. He wasn’t going to make this detention harder for me. That was a first.

A new tune dashed into my mind—an up-tempo song with guitars and a bit of violin in the chorus segment—and excitement swirled through my chest. There was nothing better than having my creative juices flowing. If I was inspired, I could come up with a couple of new songs in a day, but I couldn’t record all of them, so I had to opt for those that spoke to me on a deeper level.

Immersed in my song, I almost forgot Blake was there, when suddenly darkness covered the whole room. I stopped mid-step and clutched the small cardboard box filled with VHS tapes in my hands.

“What the…?” Blake shouted. “I can’t see anything!”

The fear in his voice sent a tremor through me. “The electricity must have gone out,” I said, taking two steps toward the table where I planned to set the box down, but they felt like a hundred because I couldn’t see a thing in this tangible darkness.

“No shit.”

I turned in the direction of his voice, which sounded closer to me now, but it was a mistake because this only messed with my orientation. “You don’t have to be so rud—”

“Where’s the goddamn light?!” His words were heavy with panic, spoken through bursts of heavy exhalations. “I need to get out of here.”

He fumbled close to me, hitting the chairs scattered around us twice before he dropped something. His fear hit me hard, and a piece of me deep inside yearned to help him. I had to get my phone before he had a panic attack or something equally scary happened.

“Fuck. My phone.” He tapped the floor, apparently searching for his phone, his breaths fast and shallow. “Where is my fucking phone?!”

I all but dropped the box on the floor and reached for my phone in my pocket. “Wait. I’ll turn on the flashlight—”

“Finally,” he said, not even paying attention to my words, presumably having found it. It seemed only inches separated us, and my body tingled with his nearness. “I need to find the door.”

I was about to