Read Good for Free Online

want to split your sandwich. Stop being so nice and cute!
    I shook my head.
    “You probably need to eat something. Helps the brain work better. Plus you’re really tiny.”
    Oh my God. Don’t comment about my size .
    He tried for a new topic. “Are you taking good care of my handkerchief?”
    I glared at him. “Can I give it back to you now?”
    “No, I was just asking if you’re taking care of it.”
    I had no idea what he meant. What was I supposed to be doing with his handkerchief? I instinctively slid my hand in my pocket. It was still there. Safe and secure.
    “It’s in my pocket,” I replied.
    “Good.”
    I couldn’t stand it any longer.
    “Why are you sitting here?” I demanded. I didn’t mean for it to come out as an accusation.
    “Any reason I can’t sit here?” he asked.
    “It’s just weird. There’s a teachers’ table, you know.”
    “I don’t wanna sit at that table.”
    “Well, you’re at the reject table, just so you know,” I said, and Riley’s head snapped up, a look of disdain painted on his face. “It’s true,” I argued.
    “I don’t see any rejects,” Mr. Connelly said. “And you’re being rude.”
    “Whatever.” I stood and picked up my tray. “I’m outta here.”
    “Good riddance,” Riley mumbled.
    “Enjoy the rest of your day, Cadence,” Mr. Connelly said.
    “ You enjoy the rest of your day,” I shot back. I sounded like a moron.
    I stomped down the hall to my locker. I was pissed, though I knew I had no right to be. It was Mr. Connelly. Always here. Always there. I saw him way too much, and it was only the second day of school. I didn’t like the way he made me feel, mostly because I couldn’t define the feeling. And I didn’t like carting around his handkerchief. What was that? I thought it was some kind of power play, and decided I’d leave it on his desk after I changed out my books.
    I opened my locker to sand. It poured out all over my feet, worming its way into my ballet flats. What the hell? Who knew my locker combination? The jumpsuit yesterday was one thing: I didn’t have a lock yet. But today I did, and I still had a present waiting for me.
    I leaned over to take off my shoes and dump out the majority of sand before heading to the office.
    “I need a new lock,” I said rudely.
    The receptionist behind the desk, Mrs. Kinder, pursed her lips.
    “May I ask why?”
    “Because some students know my combination, and they dumped sand all in my locker,” I replied. “I have sand in my shoes.”
    Mrs. Kinder furrowed her brows. “Well, that’s unfortunate.”
    “Yes, it is,” I clipped. “And who’s in charge of monitoring the surveillance videos? I mean, you’ve got cameras plastered on every wall of this school. Why has no one gotten in trouble for harassing me?”
    “Please calm down,” Mrs. Kinder said.
    “No!” I screamed. “And I’m not cleaning up all that fucking sand!”
    Oh shit. Shit shit shit.
    “Excuse me?”
    It wasn’t fair. I had never, in my entire life, said that word in front of an adult. Especially one who held so much power over me. I was in major trouble.
    “Mrs. Kinder, oh my God. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to say that. I wasn’t cussing at you. I was cussing at the situation,” I said. I decided my best hope of evading punishment was to bring on the tears. “It’s just been awful!” I cried. “I’m getting picked on, and I’m tired, and there’s sand everywhere!”
    Mrs. Kinder’s face relaxed.
    “You have every right to be mad, and I should get in trouble, I should! But I’m begging you. Please don’t call my parents! I’ll do morning detention all year if you don’t call my parents!”
    I sniffed and wiped my nose with the back of my hand like a four-year-old. It was so pitiful, and I wasn’t even pretending anymore. I pulled the handkerchief out of my pocket and cried into it.
    “Honey, it’s okay. And you won’t have to clean up the sand. Calm yourself down and take a