Chapter 35: The Broken Note: Chapter 35

The walls have deep, gaping puncture wounds. Gnarled black lines. The fire chewed at the windows and tore at the ceiling, leaving behind ugly gashes. I inhale and the stench is so strong that it makes my eyes water.

The fire happened a while ago, but it feels like the fingers of hell are still dancing, flashing my face with heat and brushing against my skin.

Behind me, the door slips open and then shut.

I hear footsteps. The rustle of the yellow ‘CAUTION’ tape that was meant to keep students out.

And then silence.

I turn slowly.

Sol’s eyes are so dark, it almost hurts to look at him.

“Every night, I had the same nightmare.” His voice drops to a dangerously low tone, something guttural and empty. “You looked at me with that exact expression. Like you hated me.”

I’m vaguely aware of the chimes, signaling the start of another class. Vaguely aware of the sunshine pushing past the windows and falling on the charred desks and ruined plastic piano keys.

A low note plays in my head.

Music mourning its own.

“Serena’s mom is in the hospital. Did you know that?” I take a step toward him, my hand shaking. “The school’s about to sue her family for breaking the scholarship contract. The only money they have is the one they saved up for chemo.”

Sol has the decency to flinch.

“Her mom’s is in danger, but you stood by and watched.” Heat blazes through my voice. “What gives you the right? You think you’re the only one living in a nightmare? You think you’re the only one battling demons when you’re awake and when you’re asleep?”

His eyes shoot back to mine, inquisitive. Almost as if he didn’t care about anything I just said until I mentioned that last line.

“Is something going on with you?” he demands.

I stalk all the way in front of him. Forget the fire that burned this building. The one I’m going to rain on his head is twice as hot.

“What the hell were you thinking, Sol?”

“I wasn’t.” Muscles clench and contract in his jaw. He bows his head. I can’t see his tortured eyes anymore.

“That’s not good enough.”

“I’m telling you the truth. I was just feeling. Feeling all the injustice, the unfairness, the helplessness. I had to do something. It had to come out.” His eyes meet mine. Clear. No sense of desperation. No apology.

The monster Redwood created turned around and stabbed it in the chest.

“Fight fire with fire?” I step right into his face. I’m too short to stand nose-to-nose, but I’m nose-to-chest and it’s good enough. I tilt my head up. “The problem is, Sol, that when you take aim without thought, innocent people burn.”

Brown eyes watch me heavily from beneath his wavy brown hair. “I’ll fix it.”

I turn around, unable to look at him.

I feel too sorry to Serena. I feel too stupid.

Not once did I think Sol set the fire.

Not even when the evidence was staring me in the face.

It all pointed to him.

The mysterious person leaving The Kings’ practice room.

The Cross brothers using Martina as a scapegoat.

Martina fleeing guiltily when I brought up the fire at breakfast.

And Dutch…

He knew something, but he’d rather die than tell me. He’s always been protective of Sol.

The picture was right in front of me, but I believed so much in Sol that I couldn’t even consider the possibility of him being behind this.

Doesn’t that make me foolish?

Naive?

I was so happy to meet someone who came from my neighborhood, someone who got me, who saw me. The conversations Sol and I had made me think that we were more alike than we were different.

Both of us didn’t belong here. Both of us seemed to be—whether willingly or not—caught up with a group of brothers who lived in a world way higher than our own.

I trusted him.

Because of that, Serena suffered.

“Cadence,” Sol’s footsteps patter behind me, “I’ll take care of everything.”

His hand closes around my arm.

I brush him off and whirl around, my chest heaving. “Why should I believe you when you’ve done nothing until this point?”

“That’s not true.” He reaches out to me again, but stops short when I glare at him. Hesitantly, he slips both his hands into his pockets. “After I found out Serena was arrested, I went straight to Principal Harris. He told me to screw off.” Sol’s eyes narrow to slits. “According to him, it didn’t matter which one of us got kicked out.”

I scoff.

Sol licks his lips and keeps staring at the ground.

“Did Dutch know since the beginning?”

His head whips up. Sol stares at me for a long moment, as if he’s trying to figure me out. “Does it matter?”

“What?”

“Does it matter to you if Dutch knew? I thought you hated him.”

“I do hate him.”

His eyes search my face. His jaw works for a minute, as if he’s trying his best to believe me.

I can’t take the tautness in the air between us and grind out, “But we’re not talking about Dutch. We’re talking about you, Sol. It was your decision to set the fire. It was your decision to hide it.”

“Don’t worry.” His voice is flat now. He glances past me. “I started this. I’m going to finish it.”

“No, going to finish this.” I stalk past him.

“Cadence—” Sol grabs my arm to stop me.

“Let me go.”

He drops my hand immediately, but his shoulders are tense. “You think barging into Principal Harris’s office and demanding things is going to work? I’ve been there. I’ve done that. I already confronted them and they didn’t give a damn.”

Maybe he failed, but I won’t. Sol didn’t have the footage that I do. If Harris insists on letting Serena take the fall for the fire after seeing what I have, he’s insane.

“Don’t try and stop me, Sol. That’s my final warning.” I stalk to the door again.

“I really hate when Dutch is right,” Sol mumbles. A moment later, I hear white noise and then the hiss of a recording.

I freeze, right in front of the yellow and black tape.

“You recorded him?” I whisper, turning around.

“Learned that lesson the hard way.” He juts his chin down. “When you face a snake, always keep your recorder on.”

My nostrils flare.

My mind trips through what I just heard.

The callousness Principal Harris showed toward Serena is disgusting. I always knew I didn’t mean anything to these people. But at least Dutch, Paris and Christa were honest about their disdain for me. Even Miller flashed his true colors pretty quickly.

But people like Harris? I thought he was a harmless puppet for the real overlords of Redwood.

After hearing that recording, I doubt he’s the innocent, bumbling principal he portrays himself to be.

“Why didn’t you just play that for me from the start?” I hiss.

Sol draws near to me. “Dutch said you wouldn’t believe me unless I had evidence. He said you were stubborn. I told him you’d give me a chance.” He purses his lips, dark eyes slicing me with disappointment. “Looks like he was right.”

I don’t care about his pissing contest with Dutch right now.

Holding my hand out, I say, “Give me your phone.”

His eyes widen. “Why?”

“Just give it.”

Sol hesitates a second before tucking the cell into my palm.

I head straight for Principal Harris’s office.

“Cadence!” Sol scrambles after me.

My hand bangs against the door. It slams into the wall.

The secretary, a woman with long nails and a perpetual affinity for gum, gives me a wide-eyed stare.

I don’t bother granting her a look.

When she sees me stalking past her desk with violent intent, she shoots to her feet. “Wait just a minute! You can’t go in there!”

Her shrieks are like background noise. Right now, all I can think about is Serena’s mom. Her pale face as she tried her best to smile at me. Her eyes, red from exhaustion and stress. Her joy that Serena had a friend at Redwood.

What Sol did was insane, but there’s a part of me that understands where that wrath is coming from. A human being can only be told he’s worthless for so long before he either believes it or fights back.

And it’s time to fight back.

I’m tired of this school breaking us down and beating us into the ground. Redwood Prep has tried it’s best to take me, Sol and Serena out.

We’re not leaving.

Not until we’re good and freaking I slam my fist into Harris’s door and barge in while he’s on a call. His eyes widen and he half-rises out of his seat, craning his neck to look past me as if he’s waiting for someone to walk in and give him an explanation.

“Sorry, Principal Harris,” the secretary rushes in behind me. “I couldn’t stop her.”

“I need to speak to you. Alone,” I hiss.

Sol is right behind me. I can feel his eyes as if he’s peeling my skin off.

“Young lady, you are being disrespectful right now. Leave before I suspend you both for misconduct—”

I slam my fist on the desk. My hair flies in front of my face. “You’re going to want her to leave and you’re going to want her to close the door because if you don’t, I’m walking out of here and I’m not going to stop until I get to the cops.”

His eyes bugging, Harris glances at me and then at Sol.

With a quick flick of his wrist, he chases the secretary out.

She gives me the stink eye before closing the door.

“What is the meaning of this?” Harris grumbles, looking down at me behind his big circle glasses.

I slam Sol’s cell phone on the desk. A pen rattles in the metal cup next to the picture frame of Harris with a golf club.

Maintaining eye contact, I press play.

Harris’s voice fills the room as he coaches Sol into shutting up.

I watch his face intently but, what I see there, sends shivers up my spine. Harris doesn’t look scared at all.

In fact, he laughs.

“That’s it? Do you think that’ll make a difference, Miss Cooper?” He rises and looks down his nose at me.

“You know exactly what you did?”

“Which is what? Encourage a vulnerable student to stay in school and get a good education?” He pushes his glasses up his nose. The light from the window catches on the lens and makes them glint. “This is why we shouldn’t open our doors to people like you.”

My back stiffens.

I grit my teeth.

“Don’t think I’ve been blind to all the trouble you’ve caused since you’ve arrived here at Redwood Prep. Mulliez and Jamieson fought for you. Jarod Cross covered for you. If so many people put their necks on the block, you should know enough to at least be grateful for the opportunities you’re given.”

Sol launches forward, but I stick out a hand.

I don’t need anyone saving me.

“This recording alone probably won’t damage you enough. But this…” I turn my cracked phone around and press play.

The video of Sol leaving the music room fills the screen.

Sol’s eyes widen.

Harris points in shock. “H-how did you get this?”

“

. Sol came to you to admit his crime and you threw an innocent person under the bus, for what? The fun of it? Scholarship kids are all replaceable cogs in the Redwood machine. Unless our last name is Cross or Miller or something attached to dollar signs, you don’t give a damn.”

“Miss Cooper!”

“Don’t you dare bring that lawsuit against Serena. Bring her back to Redwood ”

His eyes double in size. I guess I wasn’t supposed to know about the lawsuit.

I scoop up both cell phones. “I suggest you waive her work service and give her a heartfelt apology. That’s the least you can do. If she doesn’t sue you for libel and emotional damage.”

Harris inhales deeply. After a beat, he seems to regain his composure. When he lifts his eyes again, he’s smiling.

“Go ahead. Let it out.”

My jaw slackens.

He frowns at me. “You want to throw one of your little friends under the bus to protect the other? Have at it. All I did in that recording,” he points to Sol’s phone, “was do what the police told me. I had no idea Sol was the culprit. Neither did the cops. Everything I did was by the books. However,” Principal Harris adjusts his ill-fitting suit jacket, “ now that you’ve pissed me off, any hope of you and your little culprit,” he nods at Sol, “remaining in Redwood are null and void.”

Rage simmers in my veins.

I launch forward. “You prick!”

“Cadence!” Sol pounces on me.

I fight him like a banshee.

All I can see is Serena’s teary-eyes.

Her mother’s pale face.

The promise I made that will never be fulfilled.

“Have some respect for your principal!” Harris shrieks, curling back.

Sol’s fingers dig into my arm, but I can barely feel the pinch.

“Since I’m no longer a student here, then you’re not my freaking “Who said you weren’t a student here?” a new voice growls.

I freeze, my eyes swinging to the open door that is now occupied by two people—Dutch and…

“Miller.” Principal Harris’s face pales. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to talk about business. I didn’t know I’d be stepping into a bar brawl.”

“They were just leaving.” Harris reddens and pats his shirt down.

“No. I don’t think they are.” Dutch’s words are for Harris, but his eyes are on the place where Sol is holding onto me.

Sol doesn’t drop his hand despite Dutch’s warning stare.

I break out of his hold myself.

“Dutch. Miller. What is this about?”

Dutch fills the room with his darkly charismatic presence, claiming the cluttered office like it’s his own personal war room. He turns the Redwood Prep sweater, heavy trousers, and combat boots into a cloak and scepter.

I’ve never seen a man so confident in himself. From the way he walks to the way he runs his fingers through his blonde hair and the way he flashes a cocky smile when he passes me by. He’s arrogance personified.

The chairman of the board takes a seat in front of the desk. “After talking things over with the board, our lawyers and the police, we’ve decided that there just isn’t enough evidence to charge Ms. Parker with the crime of setting the fire.”

Harris gapes like a fish, but I can’t judge him because my jaw hits the floor too.

I slant Dutch a stunned look.

He winks at me before facing Miller. “And since Christa is leaving Redwood to study overseas, there’s one more spot open in the music program and Mr. Miller has generously offered to dedicate a scholarship in Christa’s name to Redwood.”

My knees buckle. I can’t even believe what I’m hearing.

Christa leaving Redwood for good?

Her spot opening up a place for Serena?

All her expenses paid while she’s at Redwood?

Dutch’s eyes meet mine. “Serena was a part of our music program and, I represent the entire class, when I say that if anyone messes with her, they mess with us.”

My heart flips strangely. I press a hand to my chest, trying to calm down.

“That’s generous of you,” Principal Harris smacks his lips, “but the rumors have spread. How would it look if we brought back the person who started the fire?”

“Serena didn’t start the fire,” Sol says harshly.

“The fire is old news. Mistakes happen.” Miller waves a hand as if he couldn’t be bothered.

Dutch pins his dark, threatening eyes on Harris. “Serena was falsely accused and we’re prepared to protest, speak to the media and do whatever we need to prove her innocence.”

“Redwood Prep doesn’t need that kind of negative attention,” Miller says.

Harris is sweating hard. “She’s just a scholarship student. Isn’t that what you said Miller?”

“She’s not a scholarship student. She’s one of us, and we want her back. Reinstate her. Today.” Dutch’s words are harmless, but his tone is clear. He’s not really giving Harris a choice.

Harris’s mouth trembles. “Since when were you working so closely with students, Miller?”

“I don’t think that’s the question that needs answering.” Miller adjusts his expensive tie and folds his hands over his knee. “Get the girl back in school, Harris. She’s suffered long enough.”