บททั้งหมดของ How To Save A Life: บทที่ 11 - บทที่ 20

 She blew out yet another sigh and stared at me. It was like something had finally clicked in her mind and her eyes hardened. It looked like she'd finally seen me for who I was.  "Reniella, you're lovely, honestly," she bit out. "I'm not sure if you've been told this before but you just have this vibe around you. You've got these eyes and this little smile that makes people feel like they should confess their entire life story to you. But I can't risk spilling any more secrets than necessary, I hope you understand." She brushed me off and turned to her friends.  Without kicking up a fuss, I put the can back onto the kitchen island and stalk off. My eyes were heavy and I didn't feel like investigating anymore. I couldn't go upstairs to any of the rooms

  "I knew for a fact that Amalia and Marco had slept with each other because he was just as nervous as she was. He knew all the little secrets before I'd even said them aloud. While Amalia became quiet upon the release of her personal details, Marco was much the opposite. He came up to me, threatened me, pushed me. The Marco I saw that day was not my best friend. He was something else. Some white knight complex had taken over him, just another white boy trying to show off his new plaything. If he thought I'd do that to Amalia, he couldn't have known me all that well. I was just-"    He cut himself off and lunged towards me before I could react. His hands found my cheeks where he cupped them roughly and my face was trapped in his grasp. His icy touch knocked the breath from my lungs and it felt as though I'd been knocked over by a car. My vision glazed over and all I could se

 "Now?" I asked quietly. My throat felt scratchy.  "Why not?" "Because I know Ross, I've known him forever. It's weird." He shrugged.  I stared at Deshawn for longer. The Zobel College uniform that he wore looked just as perfect now as when I first saw him. Freshly washed and perfectly pressed. He was the poster boy for Zobel College. I reluctantly rose from my huddle of blankets on the bed and to the wardrobe where I changed into my outfit of the day. Then, I grabbed my phone and left the house, making my way to the bus stop. I'd given the keys to Ross's brother's car back t

  I stared at myself in the mirror. The sparkling purple fabric of Ross's sister's dress clung to my upper body before cascading beautifully right down to my feet. It fit nicely, maybe not as flattering on my chest area as I'd hoped but it was all I had to work with. I'd curled my dark brown hair so that it fell behind my shoulders appropriately and my makeup was light and magic.   I felt like an imposter.    Like some rich boy's housewife to be. My heart clasped shut and it temporarily stopped beating as Deshawn appeared behind me. Even with my heels, he was taller. The ghost inspected me with an unreadable expression.   "What?" I turned around to him in question.    "Nothing." He shrugged. "

 "Marco is in one of the rooms upstairs," a voice whispered beside me. I flinched from the sound but softened when I saw it was Deshawn. He sat on the chair beside me with a sympathetic smile.  "One thing I don't miss after dying is this bullshit." He laughed bitterly.  "It seems that everyone here hates going," I commented. "So why keep doing it? Why keep hosting, attending, and feeding into this stupid thing?"  He shrugged. "Did you want to catch Marco before he leaves? I saw him run into one of the rooms around the corner and it might be your last chance."  I looked down at my wrist to see the writing. I was nervous that people might have noticed the words on my arm but I was fool