Free Cutting Up The Competition (Horror High #2) by Carissa Ann Lynch Page A

pressed my finger to her neck, feeling for a pulse. She didn’t budge when I touched her or said her name, but her pulse was steady, practically normal.
    I pulled the covers all the way down, staring at the purplish bruise on her inner elbow. She had passed out while shooting up. It wasn’t the first time this had happened, and surely wouldn’t be the last.
    I wanted to scream and yell, but somehow…I didn’t have it in me. She’d hurt me so much, that my disappointment meter hit its threshold a few years ago. I sat on the edge of her bed, staring at this person who I loved so much but who always disappointed me.
    Finally, I pulled the covers back up to her chin and left, roaming the streets of Harrow Hill all alone. What did it matter if the killer got me? My life sucked anyway…

 
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    Chapter
    Twenty-Four
     
     
    The Sociopath
     
    It’s amazing how many idiots walk home from school each day. If they only knew I was watching…imagining what it feels like to gut them in the middle of the street in broad daylight…
    The trees behind the track and field were gnarly and tall…great trees for hiding behind.
    I waited forever, hours it seemed, for the school building and parking lot to empty out. Once clear, I made my way in through a side entrance and padded down the empty hallways, looking for locker number thirty-nine.
    I turned the dial three times, then lifted the latch. It was filled with neatly stacked books. I propped my note on the top shelf, then left my present on top of the note.
    Closing the locker, I slipped out through the way I came in…all the while reciting the chant I knew they’d love…
     
    United we stand
    Divided we fall
    The sound of Sydney’s screaming
    Just made my skin crawl

 
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    Chapter
    Twenty-Five
     
     
    Amanda
     
    “Where the hell have you been?” my mother demanded as I slipped back inside the front door. I was sweating and breathless from my long walk up and down the streets of Harrow Hill. I felt better, less angry. The air was cold for September and the chill had cleansed me.
    That was until I saw Detective Simms sitting at my kitchen table again.
    He turned around, eyeing my disheveled clothes and haggard appearance suspiciously. “I went for a walk,” I said, my breath catching in my throat.
    “Have you heard from Sydney?” the detective asked.
    “No. If I’d heard from Sydney I would have called you. Why are you here instead of out there looking for her?” I demanded, my voice louder than I’d intended.
    My mom was quick to defend him. “ I called him. I woke up from a nap and you were gone. I was terrified that someone took you too. You know better than to leave without telling me! And you shouldn’t be out walking alone!”
    “I’m sorry, Mother. Next time, I’ll use your judgment.” I said it slow and with bitterness, hoping she’d take the hint. I stared at the now-covered sore on her arm. She caught me looking and crossed her arms over her chest.
    “I’m just glad you’re okay,” she said, her voice softening.
    I looked away from her, focusing on Detective Simms. “Has anyone heard from Sydney’s parents?”
    “That’s the thing…we can’t find a contact number for them and we’ve tried everything. They might be out of the country. I was hoping you might know more…” Detective Simms waited, looking at me expectantly.
    I sat down in the chair opposite of him.
    “The only thing I know about them is that they work in stocks and Sydney said they were out of town. Her dad drives a silver Mercedes and he picks her up from practice sometimes. Dakota should know more. She and Sydney are closer than Sydney and I…”
    “And why is that? Were you and Sydney fighting about something?” he asked.
    I couldn’t help it—I groaned. These questions were just ridiculous! Not to mention downright pointless and a waste of time.
    “Of course not,” I snapped. “It’s just…I only moved here