Read Online Unlocked by Margo Kelly - Free Book Online Page B

early,” she said.
    “I need to get to school. Student council is passing out class schedules.”
    She picked up her purse and then kissed me on the forehead. “Try and have a good day, sweetheart.”
    “Wait,” I said. “I need you to take me.”
    She checked her watch. “I need you to ride the bus.”
    “Mom, I haven’t ridden the bus since freshman year. And I just told you, I have to get there early.”
    “Hurry up then. I can’t be late for work.”
    I grabbed a Pop-Tart from the cupboard. “I’m ready. Let’s go.” I hoisted my backpack over one shoulder and followed Mom out the door. I bit off a large chunk from the strawberry pastry. Crumbs sprinkled down my blouse and onto the pristine floor mat of Mom’s Toyota Prius. She narrowed her eyes at me and drove out of the neighborhood.
    “Thanks for picking up my room last night,” I said.
    Mom glanced toward me. “I didn’t.”
    “Oh.”
    “Did something unusual happen?” Mom asked. “Should we call Dr. James?”
    Now that I hovered in the shadow of Dad’s mental illness, I needed to be more careful; otherwise, Mom would worry. And even though Dr. James was the expert to help me, he also held clout with the judge.
    “Hannah?”
    I doubted my ability to ease her mind, but I tried. “I’m fine. My room was just cleaner than I remembered. No big deal.”
    She kept her eyes on the road. “You’re sure?”
    “Yup.”
    She dropped me off at school, and I walked straight to the Commons. Chelsea’s laugh rang out before I even spotted her. My pace slowed when I discovered football and volleyball players had already manned the tables. Chelsea and her teammates were all decked out in their matching game jerseys.
    “Hannah!” The principal patted my back. “We weren’t sure you’d make it today, what with the accident and all. How are you?”
    “The student council is supposed to—”
    “Don’t fret about it. We changed things around, and we’ve got it covered. Take it easy, and let me know if you need anything.” He shuffled across the giant green-and-gold mosaic of our mascot—a falcon—and headed toward his office. I didn’t want to take it easy. I wanted to hand out schedules with the student council members as we’d planned, but they’d changed things without me.
    The tables were labeled with letters based on last names, and I stepped over to the
O
table, where Chelsea sat with two other girls. Their chatter stopped. Chelsea went stone-faced and avoided my gaze. I stood straighter and concealed my disappointment.
    “Hi, Chelsea,” I said.
    The other girls gawked at me. I blinked, again and again, to keep my imminent tears at bay.
    “Did you get my texts?” I asked Chelsea. No response. My throat tightened, and heat rose from the pit of my gut. I waved my hand in front of her, and she locked eyes with me in a terrifying stare. She leaned forward, thumbed through her stack of papers, and then slid my class schedule across the table.
    “You’re just going to ignore me?” I found myself swaying back and forth between anger and aching.
    She leaned back and batted her eyelashes. If she’d used any more mascara, those tarantula legs would have scampered right off her face. She was publicly snubbing me.
    I snatched up the paper and stormed away. Chelsea spoke to the girls behind me. I only caught snippets:
Can you believe she came? Shouldn’t she be in jail or something?
I clenched my jaw. No tears. Not here. I kept walking, shocked by her rebuke. Chelsea had been one of my closest friends since she’d moved here last fall, and I’d hoped she’d help me through this. If only I’d gone back to bed this morning. I should’ve waited for Manny, and we could have returned together. But silly me, I thought I was needed here today.
    I plopped down on a bench in front of the school. A tear slipped and fell onto my schedule: Broadcasting III, AP Literature, an open period before lunch, Leadership, AP Statistics, Spanish II, and