Read Online Breaking Beautiful by Jennifer Shaw Wolf - Free Book Online Page B

me. But I might be imagining it because of what James said to me at the store.
    When I reach my locker, Hannah, Megan, and Angie are there, talking with their heads together. Like they can sense me coming, they all turn—a three-headed, ultrapopular monster—and glare at me. I recognize the look on Hannah’s face.
    I press my book against my chest for protection. “What’s wrong?”
    “Like you don’t know.” Angie’s long fingernails tap out disgust on her thigh.
    “I don’t—” I take a step backward.
    Hannah strides toward me. “You little slut!” She gets so close that I have to take a step back. “It wasn’t enough that you stole Trip and got him killed. Now you have to go after Jonathon, too!”
    My mind races. “Jonathon? I didn’t—”
    “Jonathon Weeks, the new cop. Don’t even try to deny it. Half the town saw you in the front seat of his car.” She sucks in an angry breath. “And because your dad caught you together, and blamed it on him, he’s going to get fired and have to leave!”
    I cower against the lockers as she pushes her face even closer to mine. I can’t believe how ugly she is with her face twisted like that.
    “You poison everyone and everything that gets near you,” Hannah spits out. “I wish you had never come here.” She’s still screaming at me, but I shut it out. Rub the stone in my pocket and let her words wash over me—a wave crashing against the cliffs on the beach.
    She finally stops to take a breath. “Aren’t you going to say anything?”
    I blink, wondering what I could possibly say to her. “No.”
    That sets her off again. From the corner of my eye, I see her hand move. My reflexes are quick, like a tiger, and I catch her before she slaps me. I twist her wrist around and dig in my fingernails. She screams and tries to pull away, but I don’t let go. When she finally wrenches away, my nails leave angry streaks of red across the back of her hand.
    She’s bleeding, holding her hand, and still screaming. I can see her mouth moving, but all I can hear is another voice.
    “Don’t ever touch me again.”
    I back away, not sure if I said it out loud.
    “Allie!” Someone puts a hand on my shoulder.
    “Don’t touch me!” This time I know it’s my voice. I jerk my shoulder away and flee toward the door.
    “Allie. Stop!” It’s Ms. Holt. I ignore her, shove my way past all of the open mouths, down the hall and outside. I’m gasping for breath, but I don’t stop. I run as hard as I can. My head is pounding, and my ears are ringing with the voice inside my head. Never again.
    I keep waiting to hear footsteps on the sidewalk behind me—an angry mob coming to grab me and drag me back for digging my claws into the queen, or for the murder they’re all sure I committed—but no one follows.
    I’m not sure where I’m going until the sidewalk changes to a boardwalk and the ground starts to get sandy, past where Grandma’s house used to be. Past Blake’s house, gray and blue, with its sagging porch and peeling paint contrasting with the neat condos all around it. Toward the ocean, where the sound of the waves shuts out the screaming in my ears.
    I head down the steep path that leads to the beach, stumble, fall, and slide for a few feet. Sea grass whips against my face and slices my cheek. I stand up and run toward the cliffs.
    The tide is out and I can see the mouth of the cave—our cave. It has a wide entrance tagged with graffiti, and cans and other garbage wedged into various holes by the tide. The floor is wet and sandy with the charred remains of a bonfire in one corner. A few feet farther back, the sides of the cave close in, getting steeper and narrower, so narrow that it looks like the cave ends, but I know better. I keep climbing and slipping over theslimy-smooth rocks, clawing my way to the back, willing the cave to swallow me. It gets darker and narrower, but I keep going. When the dark is so heavy that I can feel it and my brain is screaming