Free Gone Too Far by Natalie D. Richards Page A

him with obvious disgust. Even Mrs. Durmond stops her search for the remote to gaze at Jackson with her hand at her throat. I get that photo just right, the press of her fingers against her pearls, her eyes wide with horror.
    Every second of this scene feels like it’s stretching on forever. Until Jackson snaps, flying through the crowd and leaping at the TV. He slaps the control panel. Plastic cracks and the crowd jumps. Connor narrows his eyes and edges in front of Hadley. I hadn’t even noticed her before.
    â€œMr. Pierce!” Mrs. Durmond’s voice filters through the sudden quiet. “Let’s take a walk to the office. Now.”
    And just like that, it’s over.
    I feel the warm rush of triumph through my limbs. I didn’t miss it. I could have, but I didn’t. Best of all, I don’t think anyone’s seen me except Connor. Everyone is too busy looking at Jackson as Mrs. Durmond walks him to the door with brisk steps and a hard frown on her face.
    Once they disappear into the hallway, I back toward the door, ready to make my escape. My smug grin fades when I realize I was wrong about not being seen.
    Because Nick is looking right at me.
    â€¢ • •
    I slip from the classroom and move fast, half-convinced Nick will follow me. He doesn’t. Or at least, he doesn’t come sprinting wildly down the hall and up the stairs after me, which is about what it would take to catch me.
    I stop on the second landing, camera pressed to my chest to secure it. No one will be up here yet, so I lean against the wall and grin at the stained-glass window. Even here, surrounded by dark wood and long shadows, I feel light and bright, like a balloon about to take flight.
    A message comes into my phone, a startling buzz against my leg that makes me smile.
    It’s him. Or her. I don’t really know, I guess, and I don’t care. This total stranger is officially my freaking hero. I read the message waiting for me.
    How’s that for justice?
    I laugh out loud, but when I move to text back, my hands still shake, fumbling over every letter.
    Tastes pretty sweet.
    Get good pictures?
    I scroll through them on my camera, admiring every shot. There’s one of Jackson’s face, his white teeth obviously clenched between his lips. Yeah, they’re good. Really good.
    I let my camera drop down on the strap around my neck.
    Yes, I’ve got them.
    Good. Now you can make your own little book. Or add to the original if you like.
    My laugh isn’t so quick this time. I don’t really like this part, this undeniable reminder that while he’s a stranger to me, he knows exactly who I am. But I guess if I have his book, we’re both even in a way.
    Another text arrives, jarring me.
    So, what’s next?
    I bite my lip and look around, though of course no one’s here. I sink to one of the cold steps and tap out a reply.
    For Jackson? Hasn’t he suffered enough?
    Unlikely. But how about someone else?
    Worry nags at the back of my mind. I could be caught. Another text comes in, one that seems to read my mind.
    Come on, Piper. This is bigger than Jackson. We could change things. Make it better.
    Could we? Could we stop people like this? Adrenaline flares through me at the idea. But fear is close on its heels. This could be trouble for me. Big trouble.
    I pull my legs back in, my ears perking to a new group of students heading down the main hall. It’s getting closer to first bell. I should probably get something to eat, brush up on my Spanish for the test this week or something. I haven’t even slapped on any makeup today. I think about a lot of random things like that—a lot of perfectly legitimate reasons to ignore the text on my screen.
    Another message arrives.
    Guess I was wrong about you.
    I peck back quickly.
    I need time to think.
    This time, I don’t wait for a reply. I power off my phone, telling myself that the battery is low. Which is true. Ish .