Free Count on Me by Melyssa Winchester Page A

him anywhere near her after all of the things he’s done. I might have been a part of it before but that’s done now. No one is going to hurt her again, not on my watch.
    “You even so much as think of pulling something on her, I will end you. Fact.”
    I don’t wait around for a response. As the final bell rings, I take off for the door. If I want to make things right then it has to start now. I need to talk to my first period teacher and get the okay to be let out early.
    I have somewhere I need to be at 11:15 and this time; nothing or no one is going to stop me from making sure it happens.
    Not even Isabelle herself.

Chapter Seven
     
    Belle
     
    There isn’t a whole lot that I like about school. It’s no real secret that the only reason I’m even here at all is because of my mom. If she didn’t think it would be good for me, going through this the way I am, then I would be happier learning at home. She can’t afford that and even if she could, she already has to deal with me enough, I can’t imagine adding another six hours to it.
    Even a mom needs a break from her kid every once in awhile.
    For all of the things that I hate about school though, this is definitely not one of them.
    As soon as I enter the class after my altercation with Kayden, I’m not in the mood to do much but pull out a book and get lost in it for awhile. Anything that will take my mind off the way he seems to make me go haywire every time I’m around him.
    So it’s like Christmas for me when Ms. Taylor tells us that today is free writing day. Considering how hard it is for me to talk, this is definitely something I enjoy. It makes those notebooks my mom bought me useful, which until now, other than in my afternoon classes they just haven’t been.
    The only problem is, the assignment she gives us isn’t the type of thing I’m very good at. I have to talk to someone or at least talk to them in a letter. It should be easy considering I don’t actually have to open my mouth to do it, but trust me, it’s not. Writing to someone, whether you know their name or not, is not as easy as writing a story is. I don’t like talking about myself at all, so I have a feeling that what she wants from us, I’m just not going to be able to do.
    When she said fre e writing, I kind of hoped we could write stories. You know, ones where the girl, no matter how strange or different she is, always gets the guy in the end. The ones that no matter how similar some of the experiences might be to what you’re going through, it’s still obvious that its fiction so you don’t feel bothered at all. Sadly though, I don’t get my wish.
    I do the assignment and of course I give it in the way I’m expected to, but I don’t think I’ll get a very good grade on it.
    Free writing, even when I hate what I have to write, does make my day easier. It’s this kind of happy go lucky thinking I’m filled with as I make my way from the class. It’s only when I see whose leaning up against the lockers, with the same smile from earlier plastered across his face, that whatever happiness I was beginning to feel starts to fade.
    What’ s he doing here? What does he want with me now?
    It had taken almost the entire class to get his voice out of my head and just when I think that it’s gone and I’ve escaped him, here he is, reminding me that no matter where I go, especi ally here in school, I will never truly escape him.
    When is he going to learn that whatever it is he wants from me, he’s just not going to get? With the amount of girls I’ve overheard talking about what they want to do to him, he’s got no shortage of people to give him the attention he obviously craves, so why is he here trying to talk to me?
    “You ready for lunch?”
    Excuse me—what?
    He can’t be serious right? There had been a part of me yesterday that was excited at the idea of him standing outside of my class like this. It even made me stick around waiting until I almost missed my chance