Cutting Up The Competition (Horror High #2) (15 page)

BOOK: Cutting Up The Competition (Horror High #2)
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Chapter

Fifty-Six

 

 

I motioned for Dakota to come toward me, but she stood wide-eyed and frantic, staring at Brittani’s slumped body on the floor.

Brittani tried and failed, but I wouldn’t. Her sneak attack had inspired me and given us a bit of momentum.

As soon as the killer reached down to grab Dakota again, I ran for the gun. I grabbed and tried to yank it from her hands. My hands were around it, but she wasn’t letting go!

I fell backwards, still gripping the gun. But the killer was gripping it too, and now she was on top of me.

We wrestled for it, and then a loud bang went off.

It was so loud my ears shook—at least that’s how it felt.

Am I shot?

I wasn’t sure, but I kept fighting, butting my head against the killer’s head angrily.

And then suddenly, Dakota was jumping on the killer’s back, screaming and fighting as she ripped at her back and head.

Suddenly, she let go, falling back. Leaving me with the gun in my hand.

Jumping to my feet, I aimed the heavy shotgun at Mariella Martin.

“Take off your mask,” I demanded. Red curls hung down around her face, the mask halfway off from the struggle.

She shook her head. “You won’t shoot me. You’re not like your father, Amanda. You’re not a killer. I’m walking out of here and no one is going to stop me.”

Mariella moved for the door, but Dakota moved to stop her. In an instant, Mariella reached out and grabbed Dakota, wrapping her hands around her neck. She began squeezing Dakota’s throat as hard as she could.

Dakota fought and kicked, but Mariella’s grip was too tight.

Dakota’s face turned red, almost purple…

“Let! Her! Go!” I screamed over and over, aiming the gun at Mariella’s head.

But she wouldn’t. She was going to kill my best friend!

I took a deep breath and pressed the trigger, watching Mariella’s head blow apart.

The gun crashed to the floor.

“I’m not my father. He killed good, innocent people. I only kill bad guys,” I whimpered, falling to the floor.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter

Fifty-Seven

 

 

Nobody knows why she did it, exactly.

Is it ever truly possible to understand the mind of someone like Mariella Martin?
I don’t know. I wish I could understand it because then maybe we could prevent others from turning into her…

But this isn’t a perfect world.
Like my mom once told me—
People are complicated.

Mariella wanted to be a cheerleader. She wanted to be popular. She wanted it so bad she was willing to kill for it.

Why would she do this to us? To herself?

It was something I couldn’t wrap my brain around, and maybe I’d never want to.

I never wanted to understand someone like Mariella Martin. I just hoped there weren’t any more out there like her…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter

Fifty-Eight

 

 

Two Weeks Later…

 

The Harrow Dragon cheerleaders were lined up side by side, facing center court, looking toward the basketball goal.

But this wasn’t game night.

We stood hand in hand, memorializing those lost in the shooting. Blakely Clovers and Brittani Barlow were dead. Blakely got caught in the crossfire when she was in the hallway. I didn’t know her well until now. I felt bad for hitting her, wishing I’d gotten to know her and given her a chance to know me…

And I never thought I’d respect Brittani Barlow, but in all actuality, her actions that day saved our lives…

Apparently, she’d been so freaked out by the attack against her, she’d been carrying a knife to school. That was a troubling thought…

The gym was silent as everyone paid their respects. The center of the floor was adorned with memorial portraits, flowers, and letters all left by students. Principal Barlow stood off to the side of the gym by herself, her face contorted in pain over the loss of her only daughter. My heart hurt for the poor woman.

Coach Davis moved across the gym floor, pushing herself in a wheel chair. Coach Purnell tried to step in and help her, but she swatted him away. That was no surprise to me. Even after losing the ability to walk, she was one of the toughest ladies I knew.

Despite Mariella’s sick, twisted games and evil plans—there were still so many good people, those who were here to mourn their lost classmates, even Mariella.

Her face wasn’t on a memorial portrait, but I think we all felt her loss that day. She was a bad person who did horrible things, but what happened to her—all of us—was terrible and tragic.

I don’t think I’ll ever get over shooting her. I’d like to say that I’m brave and I did what I had to do, but still—it changed me. It made me darker inside—a gray space left in place of a small part of me that used to be pink and happy and trusting of the world.

Dakota was on my right and she gripped my hand. I smiled at her tightly, struggling not to cry. Sydney was in the stands, watching. She smiled and nodded at me too.

I know she’s forgiven me, but I still feel bad. Mariella framed Sydney and I just fell right into her trap by believing her. But so did a lot of people, including the police…

Maybe if the police weren’t focused on Sydney, they would have been out looking for the real killer—Mariella Martin. But it was too late to dwell on “what-ifs” now.

Sydney was locked up during tryouts, but Coach Davis had agreed to let her be an alternate. She was dressed in her uniform, but stayed on the bench while the rest of us stood.

Winter was on the other side of Dakota, gripping her hand tightly, but not by Dakota’s choice. I doubt they will ever be friends.

“Are you okay?” Ashleigh asked me. She was standing on my left side, dressed in her full uniform. She was only an alternate, but now that Blakely and Brittani were gone, she and Gabriella got permanent spots on the team.
Lucky them.

“I’m fine,” I said quietly, staring straight ahead.

I still don’t trust that girl…

 

***

 

It seemed wrong—watching students move the memorial flowers and stands off of the gym floor afterwards, clearing space for the dance floor. Our annual dance was scheduled tonight, and despite some teachers’ insistence that it be postponed, Principal Barlow, for whatever reason, wanted the show to go on.

“It’s what Brittani would have wanted,” she had said.

The DJ booth was set up, as well as tables for snacks and refreshments. The once bright lights of the memorial were now dimmed, perfect for couples who wanted to engage in some romantic dancing.

All of the girls who hadn’t changed into dresses yet—like the cheerleaders and band members who were part of the memorial service—now hurried to the locker room to get ready for the big dance, including me. I’ve never been one for taking long to get ready, so I slipped into my dress and hurried back out to join the others.

Sydney came out of the girl’s locker room. She was wearing a long, green, A-lined scoop dress, and as usual, she looked long and elegant, like a model who could own the runway. Dakota’s dress was short and sexy, with tiny purple sequins and a poufy skirt far above the knees. Even though she was naturally short, her heels made her look as tall as Sydney. I admired my two best friends. They looked absolutely lovely.

Grandma Mimi had leant me a fancy mermaid dress, with a long lean waist with a wide poof at the bottom. It was bright red and showy, something I normally wouldn’t wear. But I felt almost glamorous as I channeled my inner showgirl—my inner Mimi, I suppose…

Lauren’s dress was the most eye catching, with sheer rainbow colored fabric and a skirt as poufy and long as a wedding train. She strutted out of the locker room, basking in her own glory, surrounded by her freshman posse.

The first song that came on was a slow one, and I wasn’t surprised one bit to see Dakota and Andy heading out to the dance floor first. They moved liked they lived in their own little world, not caring who saw or joined them. Honestly, they really were a great couple.

Other couples and singles filled up the floor. I immediately noticed Jordan, pulling a tall brunette out on the dance floor—not his girlfriend, Lauren, I noted. I looked around for Lauren in the crowds again, expecting to find her upset somewhere or on the sidelines watching her cheater boyfriend.

But honestly, she too looked happy to be rid of that jerk. She was standing with her group of freshman girls, a couple I recognized from the squad, and she seemed to be having fun without him. Maybe she was happy to be rid of his flirtatious, cheating ass. I know I was.

Even Sydney, who was normally more concerned with her studies and cheerleading than boys, seemed surrounded by people and relishing in the attention. Ever since her arrest and falsely accused crimes, she had been getting showered by attention from guys and girls. She moved across the dance floor, locking arms with a dark-haired senior boy I’d never seen before till tonight.

Usually quiet, Sydney seemed to be coming out of her shell and enjoying her newfound freedom. I still had not asked her how rough it was in juvie. But Sydney was tough, and honestly, she was used to being alone—so my guess is that she handled it like a champ, the way she did most things in life.

After filling my cup with punch, I made my way around the edges of the dance floor, smiling at my happy friends as they danced and enjoyed the dance. It was a day for mourning, but also a day for celebration—we were finally free of the sociopath. I saw many classmates I had never noticed before. After what happened with the shooting…everyone seemed important and I was making an effort to learn all of the students’ names at Harrow High.

For the first time in a long time, I felt safe again. The school shooting gave me a newfound lease on life. I wanted to be alive. And suddenly, all of the small stuff—like cheerleading and everyday drama amongst friends and peers—seemed so unimportant and dumb. I just wanted us all to be safe and happy, and that didn’t seem like too much to ask.

I noticed one of my friends sitting in the bleachers, head hung down and quiet. I crept toward her, climbing up rows of seats to sit beside her.

“Winter, are you okay?” I asked. I smoothed the long layers of my dress, taking a seat beside her.

When she looked up, I could tell she had been crying. Her hooded black makeup was smudged on her pale white cheeks and below her eyes. Her white-blonde hair looked even whiter than usual with her all-white, sparkly dress.

Even when she was crying and looked like a total wreck, she was beautiful.

When she didn’t answer my question, I said, “You look really pretty.”

“Thanks,” she said finally, sniffling. Her eyes drifted to the dance floor, where she glumly watched Andy and Dakota dancing.

I groaned. “Not him again,” I teased, nudging her. “She will kick your ass if she sees you staring at him. You know what a pain Dakota can be sometimes.”

Winter tried not to smile, but her lips were curving. “I know. But I just can’t help it. I still have feelings for him, Amanda,” she whined.

“What do you miss so much about dating him?” I asked, watching Andy playfully dip Dakota on the dance floor. They both looked so happy, and I didn’t see Winter being able to break them up even if she tried.

“I guess I just miss the
idea
of him. We were like best friends when we were little and he was always infatuated with me. I guess I thought it would last forever, but then one day he moved on…before I really had a chance to tell him how much he meant to me.”

I sat there quietly, unsure what to say, or what could make her feel better…

“And there are so many unpleasant memories and reasons to just let go of Andy, but I keep focusing on the good moments…the good memories I can’t let go of,” she said sadly.

I thought about her words, mulling them over. “You know I think I have the opposite problem with my dad. I focus on the bad so much, I can’t seem to reach the good stuff anymore. When all I want to do is let the bad go, and just hold on to the good. I think it’s good that it’s in your nature to stick with the good—I do…”

Winter looked at me, wiping her nose. “I’m really sorry about what happened to your dad. Even if he made some bad choices, he did one thing right—he had you. And you’re an awesome friend, Amanda. I’m so glad I met you this year.”

We both smiled.

“You deserve a guy that likes you and who you like back. Maybe you and Andy were just meant to be friends, or even childhood sweethearts. You can let go of the good memories and focus on making new ones. With your new friends, and your new cheerleading team…” I said.

When she didn’t answer, I nudged her.

“Yeah, you’re right. I have a lot of things to look forward to this year. I’m just glad I’m not dead. I was so scared,” she said.

“Me too,” I said solemnly, remembering the jolt of shock that ran through my body when I heard the first gunshot.

It would take some time for us all to recover, that I knew for sure…

“Attention, please! Nominations are in for the Homecoming King and Queen. Quiet, everyone!” It was Mrs. Brooch on the mic. For someone usually so cranky, she seemed happy and animated tonight. I couldn’t help wondering if someone spiked her punch. I stifled a giggle.

“Congratulations to this year’s Homecoming King…Andy McGraw!”

The gym erupted with applause and cheers from students. A bunch of Andy’s teammates on the basketball team were hooting and hollering their congrats. I smiled over at Dakota. She was beaming, so proud of her boyfriend.

“And now…for the moment everyone’s been waiting for. This year’s Homecoming Queen…”

I saw Dakota puffing out her chest, hoping she was the one. I also saw Lauren staring at the stage with a hopeful expression.

“The Homecoming Queen is our new girl…Winter Addams!”

The gym was filled with roars and whistles, students clapping for Winter.

“What?” She looked over at me to confirm this was true, looking truly in shock and awe.

I quickly wiped her tears away, trying to rub off some of the smudged black makeup, but to no avail. Winter stood up, still looking unsure of herself.

“Go up there,” I said, nudging her. I watched her glide down the bleachers and make her way to the stage.

Meanwhile, I tried not to even look—Dakota was absolutely fuming. Suddenly, Sydney was beside me, grabbing my arm.

“We’d better get her out of here…she’s so mad she might explode,” Sydney said, talking about Dakota, of course.

I laughed despite myself. “Yeah, okay. Let’s all get out of here. I’m thinking this day calls for more
Buffy
reruns and junk food!”

I felt happy for my new friend, Winter. Dakota would get over it. There was enough room at Harrow High for a few queens this year…

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