Dead Silence Read Online Free PDF Page B

telling her. “Why would she do that?”
    His hand crossed the space then, settling over hers, and like so many times before, there was a sudden surge of warmth, like a microexplosion, from his skin to hers. Achingly familiar, yet disquieting at the same time. Like the music-box imprint that followed her. “She was worried about you, and she doesn’t like the idea of us going to school in the city with metal detectors at the doors.” He grinned then. “Plus, I think she’s hoping some of your small-town charm will rub off on us.”
    Violet drew away, but not far enough, and their fingers still touched. “I’m fine. I’ve already told you that. All of you.” She didn’t know if he could tell she was lying. Honestly, she didn’t even know if she was lying. She was fine, she supposed, as fine as she could be considering everything that had happened.
    “Is that why you barely come to the Center?” He stared at her, unblinking as he studied her. “Is that why you avoid my phone calls?”
    Violet glanced away. “I answer.”
    “Sometimes,” he said, but there was a wistfulness to his voice now. “I get the feeling you wish I’d leave you alone though.”
    She swallowed, not sure what to say to that.
    “I can’t, V. And Sara’s not the only one worried.”
    Her eyes shot back up to his, and she wondered if Gemma’s empathic gift was wearing off on her, because she swore she could feel everything Rafe was feeling in that moment. Restlessness and fear and concern, all frenzied and tangled together like wings trying to beat their way out of his chest.
    Or maybe those were her feelings.
    “I—I’m telling you the truth. I’m better. I’m . . . stronger now.”
    Rafe just watched her, and then he shrugged. “Well, it wasn’t up to us anyway. And we’re not leaving, so you might as well get used to it.”
    Violet heard someone clear their throat, and she looked up to find Mr. LeCompte looming above them. She glanced nervously down at their hands, realizing that their fingertips were still pressed lightly together. She squeezed hers into a fist.
    “You’re up, you two,” Mr. LeCompte said, and then turned on his heel and left them sitting there, staring after him.
    “Quick,” Violet whispered. “Tell me where you were born.”
    Rafe got up, looking completely nonplussed by the panic in her huge green eyes. He bent down and whispered in her ear, “You were warned, V. This is about to get awkward.” And then he grinned at her before following Mr. LeCompte to the front of the room.
     
    “Hey, V! What’s up?”
    “Oh my god, will you please stop calling me that?” Violet complained to Chelsea as she dropped her lunch tray on the table with a crash.
    Chelsea grinned back at her with absolutely zero remorse. “I think it’s kinda precious. Besides, word on the street is you prefer it.”
    “Yeah, V ,” Jules chimed in, a similar unrepentant look on her face. “What I don’t get is, why you never told us before. We’re your friends—you can tell us anything.”
    “Can I tell you to shut your pieholes?”
    “Uh-oh . . .” Chelsea mocked. “Someone’s cranky.”
    “Maybe she’s hungry. Her blood sugar’s probably low,” Claire offered. Jules and Chelsea started cracking up, while Claire just stared at them, trying to figure out what she’d missed.
    “I’m not hungry,” Violet retorted, just as she saw Jay coming toward her.
    “Oh, snap! Check this out,” Chelsea said conspiratorially, elbowing Jules. She pointed to Gemma and Rafe, who were also heading right toward them, drawing whispers and stares. “Jay doesn’t like Rafe, but Rafe likes Violet—I mean, V . And the girl, the one who isn’t really his sister—” She turned to Violet now, interrupting her narration. “Wait, what was her name again?”
    “Gemma,” Violet answered listlessly, giving up and letting her friends have their fun.
    “Okay, yeah, Gemma. Gemma doesn’t like Violet or Rafe as far as I can tell.