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(XLVII.) - Part One

Another chapter for your taking... I mean, reading. Enjoy.
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There was one good thing about Friday in Einstein High. Only three classes for the day.

Music class was about to begin when Jess went up to the top floor. To save energy, she took the elevator. Climbing all that stairs was a terror to her muscles.

"Snowden, you're late," Mrs Zanetti's sharp voice hit her the moment she walked through the door.

Jess rolled her eyes. "By only five minutes."

"You have never been early to my—"

Jess tuned her out and went over to join the orchestra group. Playing an instrument had always been her thing. She enjoyed it more than singing.

However, today was the day after a voice had spoken to her from a black fog. The day after she'd been marked by her killers. Which was why Mrs Zanetti kept screaming words at her like:

"Snowden, that is not the right way to play the oboe."

"That's the wrong note, Snowden."

"You are destroying the rhythm."

"Get your shit together and play that damn thing like a bloody human."

By then, most of the other students in the room had started getting aggravated. Their Italian teacher only switched to cuss words when things had gone too bad beyond her liking. Jess dropped the brass oboe on the stand in front of her.

"I need a breather."

"You damn well take that breather and get your ass back in here," the woman seethed, standing akimbo.

Jess walked past her angry figure and out of the room. She headed to the washroom. It wasn't as empty as she'd expected. While she lingered for the two freshmen to leave, she overheard them talking about Logan and his "hotness". She rolled her eyes. Girls could be so gullible.

At a time, she couldn't stand it any longer. "Aren't you guys done?"

They turned to her sharply, blinked wide eyes several times. "Um... what?" one of them stuttered.

"I need this place cleared out." She folded her arms, jutted out one side of her hip. "Now."

"This isn't your father's restroom," the other girl retorted.

"Neither is it your personal lounge," she fired back. "So, scram."

They started to leave, then the second girl stopped and glanced back. "Are you crushing on Logan?"

Jess' fingers that were running through her hair, stopped. She recovered from the shock in two seconds, and snorted. "I don't do left-overs." When she noticed they were still lingering, she cocked her head to the door. "Get out."

They glared at her briefly, but left anyway.

Without hesitation, Jess locked the door and hurried back to the mirror. She raised her top, unzipped and dragged down her trousers at the waist, turned sideways. The spiral mark winked back at her in very dark ink.

A tattoo. She had a freaking tattoo. Unintentionally, for tragic purposes.

My life is going great.

She studied the mark more closely this time, ran a finger along the curves. It felt... weird. It has to feel weird, dummy. She rolled her eyes at her subconscious. But it doesn't feel like a real tattoo, she told herself. It feels more like a painting than an engraving.