Good Girls Never Rise: A Dark Boarding School Romance

“I know,” Sloane whispered back. “But I don’t want to ask this around anyone but you.”

Now dread was really starting to set in. Sloane’s arm unwrapped from mine, and the scratchy material of the long-sleeve sweater she lent me rubbed against my arm. Then, she grabbed a hold of my hands and gave them a quick squeeze before rushing up and pushing my sleeves past my wrists.

I jerked back from instinct, trying to unwind myself from both her and Mercedes.

“What are you doing, Sloane?” Mercedes’ voice was still low enough that if anyone were to come up behind us, they wouldn’t hear, but to Sloane and me, it was like a rubber band snapping in the wind.

I began shoving my sleeves back down, knowing that it didn’t really matter because it was so dark that no one would be able to see.

“Why do you do that?” Sloane asked, ignoring Mercedes. “Why do you hide your wrists?”

Mercedes gasped, and my brows furrowed with confusion.

“Gemma.” Her voice was sweeter this time, and her hands found their way back to mine. “Are you…suicidal?”

I paused before Mercedes broke the heavy silence. “You can talk about it, okay? It’s important to talk about it. We’re here for you.”

My mouth opened, then shut, and then it opened again. “I’m not suicidal.”

That wasn’t to say it hadn’t crossed my mind once or twice in the past, but only in the darkest pits of my head did I ever have those thoughts, and as soon as I’d said them, the voice of Tobias would cut through with his steel armor and sword, slashing them away no sooner than they came in. Survive, Gemma. Just survive.

And I would. I’d spend every one of my breaths trying to survive, just so I could find him.

Neither Sloane nor Mercedes said anything, and it was probably because they didn’t believe me. I couldn’t blame them, though. I was quiet and kept to myself a lot. I disappeared for hours at a time, and I couldn’t imagine what they’d think if they ever saw my sketchbook.

“Then why do you shove your sleeves down? Why do you never wear a t-shirt or undress in front of me?”

“It’s not because I’m hurting myself,” I answered with full honesty, and I wished I could tell them the actual reason I shoved my sleeves down. The words were on the very tip of my tongue, and for the briefest of seconds, I almost said them.

“Then why?” Sloane asked, completely dumbfounded. If I could see her face, I bet she’d look skeptical.

I sighed. “Because I broke the rules.” I sucked in a sharp breath, intertwining my fingers with both Sloane’s and Mercedes’ through the sea of darkness. I began pulling them farther, and once we reached the door to the party, I squared my shoulders and raised my chin. “And good girls don’t break rules.”

Chapter Thirty-Four

Gemma

A gust of air whipped my straight hair around as I pulled Sloane and Mercedes into the room. The party was in full swing. Everyone’s faces were familiar to me now, and it seemed as if we were the last to arrive.

Sloane’s hand clamped on mine as the door shut behind us. “What does that even mean?”

“What?” I shouted over the loud music, eyes catching on the dancing lights that fluttered around.

“What does breaking the rules have to do with your obsession with pulling your sleeves down?”

My mouth clamped shut, and after a few seconds, Sloane swung herself around and cut through my view of carefree classmates.

Her black-winged eyes dropped slightly, her pink lips frowning. “Are you sure you’re not…” She looked to the left as someone walked by. As soon as they were out of sight, I took my hand from Mercedes, who was still holding on tight, and I placed my palms on Sloane’s hardly covered shoulders.

“I promise you I’m not hurting myself. That’s what you think, right? That I’m…” My voice trailed off as I tried to remember what I’d learned in psychology class during those brief months at Wellington Prep. “Cutting?” I said this as a sort of question because I couldn’t remember if that was the correct terminology.

But I must have been right, because Sloane briefly nodded.

“I’m not.” I smiled gently, seeing that there was the smallest flicker of sadness in her eyes. I wondered what that was all about. She looked sad for a moment...or affected. “There is a reason I cover my wrists, but that’s not why.”

Mercedes’ hand touched my arm. “You don’t have to tell us all your secrets, Gemma. But please come to us if something like that happens. Okay? If you…feel alone.”

My brows crowded in, and even with the chaotic happenings around us, I felt a sort of bond form between our trio. “I promise,” I answered, suddenly feeling very lucky to have them by my side even if I knew I wouldn’t be able to reach back out to them after I left St. Mary’s for good.