School of Broken Dreams: Academy of Souls Book 3

by C. R. Jane

  Her malicious words are a blade to my heart, and they shouldn't affect me because she’s lying, I know that, but my stomach is clenching and I’m dying a little on the inside. Did Mercy really think I picked the guys over her?

  “Fuck you!” my words tremble and I hate that I'm showing her the effect she has on me.

  She laughs and releases me. “No thanks. Pretty sure you have enough guys doing that already.”

  I grit my jaw, refusing to let her get the better of me as I rub my sore neck. I remember something I read online on good comebacks and the words fall out of my mouth. “You don’t like me? That’s a shame. I’ll pencil in some time to cry about it later.”

  Her eyes widen just enough for me to see she isn’t a fan and I offer her a grin. “What your back, bitch.” With a flick of red hair over her shoulder, she strolls away and merges into the stream of students in the main hall.

  I collapse against the wall, shaking and furious that I let her treat me this way. I should have ripped her hair out or something. I feel like I’m back to day one of attending this school, and I’m the target practice. I want to crawl under a rock and hide because somehow today is worse than yesterday. And the excitement from my first time with Braxton, plus the beautiful moment with Nyx are ruined with Clarissa's ugly words circling my mind.

  I hate her.

  I hate her more than I should despise anyone.

  I turn and push myself into a fast walk out of the building, chin tucked into my chest, I hug myself and run. But I feel them staring…all the eyes, everyone judging me.

  Everyone is talking about you.

  That’s all I hear the whole way back to my dorm, and I shut myself inside my room swallowed by the desperation to follow Mercy’s footsteps and leave this place.

  Chapter 5

  Wild thoughts are running crazily through my head as I lay in bed on Saturday morning. Thoughts of doing something other than sitting in my room all weekend, leaving the campus, going somewhere other than Raven Academy run through my mind. A change of scenery might be good, and I wonder if anyone will notice if I sneak off the grounds and go to a movie, shopping, something that feels normal. Maybe take a break from dealing with killings and confusing emotions.

  And what I wouldn’t give for a vanilla chai tea latte.

  When my phone rings, I scramble out of bed, hoping it’s Mercy. Except it’s someone even better, and I hit the answer button.

  “Mom! How are you?” At the back of my mind, I remind myself of what I’ve discovered about my blood type and that in truth they aren’t my real parents. I don’t want to think about that when all I need is some happiness for a little while.

  “Hi sweetie,” she says, and I hear the smile in her voice. It sounds happier than it has in a long time. “How’s school going?”

  I shrug even though she can’t see me. “It’s okay. One of my friends left this week, so I’m missing her.”

  In Mom’s background, it sounds almost windy. “That’s horrible,” she adds. “But we have a surprise that might cheer you up.”

  “Really, what is it?” The sound grows louder. “Where are you? It’s so loud around you.”

  “We spoke to your principal and he’s given you permission to come up for the weekend.”

  I rock on my feet and squeal as Mom groans at how loud it sounds in her ears. “Are you serious, Mom, because this isn’t funny if it’s a joke.”

  “Of course it’s true. Dad’s at home making his famous pot roast for you.”

  I’m bouncing on my feet. “You’re on your way here now?”

  “Just pulling into the driveway.”

  “Oh my god, give me ten and I’m out there! I love you so much, Mom.” I hang up and squeal to my heart’s delight, then rush like a mad person to pack a small bag, grab my clothes and rush to the bathroom for the world’s fastest shower.

  I’m running like a mad woman toward reception, smiling crazily when Dante turns the corner toward me, strolling with hands deep in the pockets of his jeans, looking so incredibly delicious in jeans sitting low on his hips and a white t-shirt, loosely tucked in. Loose strands of golden hair sit over one eye as he closes in, strolling lazily in a way that has me pausing and admiring him. My heart races out of my chest. I see the way he stares at me, and it takes me a moment to remember to breathe.

  Longing. Burning. Heat.

  “Hey, babe, what’s the rush?” he eyes the backpack hanging off a shoulder. “Where are you going?”

  “Mom’s taking me home for the weekend. I can’t wait to see them.” My words are rushing with excitement.

  Dante smiles, but I see the disappointment behind his eyes. “Sounds amazing. My plans for taking you on a picnic today will have to wait.”

  “Picnic? I love that idea.”

  “Guess someone else will have to eat those homemade oatmeal chocolate chip cookies.”

  “What, you baked them for me? Those are my favorite!”

  He shrugs with a devious smile that works to melt me. “Might have been a one-off thing.”

  I playfully slap him on the arm. “Don’t you dare. I need to taste your cookies.”

  He arches a brow and smirks so sexily; it makes me blush.

  “You’re saying you want to reschedule our picnic then?”

  Warmth is washing all over me. He has this effect on me with his charming, broody personality coupled with a mountain of sexiness.

  He leans closer, and my stomach flutters at being so close to him, at inhaling his sexy scent. I stare into those golden eyes, at his parted lips like he might kiss me, and my mouth tingles as he inches even closer.

  Instead, he reaches for my bag and takes it off my shoulder to carry it for me before chuckling. “Come, I’ll walk with you so you’re not keeping your parents waiting.”

  I sulk. “You’re such a tease, you know that.” I force myself to stay calm, but before we reach the next corner, I turn to him, fist his shirt over his chest and pull him toward me.

  Our mouths clash, and my body is burning up like a supernova. Tearing down through earth’s atmosphere scorching hotter by the second.

  He drops my bag by our feet and collects me into his arms, pressing us so close that our bodies intertwine. He kisses me back full of passion, and it feels perfectly right. His fingers sink into the softness of my ass.

  We pull back, I’m gasping for breath, face flashed. His eyes are wild with desire.

  “Just a little something to remember to make some of those cookies,” I tease, an evil grin pulling at my lips. Still, a fiery passion burns right down to my core.

  Dante’s staring at me with intensity like he forgot to breathe just then, his eyes devouring all of me. Then he shakes his head like he’s trying to wake up from his own fantasy, and I won’t deny it feels incredible to get such a reaction from a gorgeous man.

  He licks his lips like a lion. “When you return.” He clears his throat. “I may have to change our picnic plans a bit.”

  “I’m looking forward to it.” I take deep breaths and try to calm myself as electric fire covers me. Maybe kissing him so deeply was a mistake before meeting with my mom. Except around Dante and the others, I completely lose myself.

  He picks up my bag and we resume our walk, both of us stealing glances and smiling. It’s funny how even with the smallest connection the guys who hold my heart can help lift my spirits higher than I thought possible.

  Our pace is even as we make our way to the front foyer near the reception, and I find Mom waiting near the door.

  She rushes over to me, her eyes wide as is her smile, and I hug her so hard, I forgot how good it feels, how she always smells of clementines.

  “Adeline, I’ve missed you so much,” she whispers then breaks away. She still holds my hands, staring at me like I might have changed since she last saw me. “You look taller and more mature.”

  “You can tell that?”

  But her attention swings to Dante who stands near me. I reach over and take my bag
from his grasp. “Mom, this is Dante. Dante, this is my Mom.”

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Jones.” He gives a slight bow of his head.

  “Nice to meet you. Glad Adeline’s made some friends. She definitely needs more friends.” She keeps emphasizing the word friends, and I’m about to die.

  “Mom.” I roll my eyes. “Let’s go.”

  She laughs softly. “Well nice to meet you, Dante.” She turns to leave, and I glance over at Dante, mouthing, Sorry.

  He blows me a kiss, which melts my knees, and I rush after Mom out of the building to an overcast day. The wind is warm today, and it isn’t long before we’re buckled up in the car and driving home.

  “Dante seems nice,” Mom begins, and I recognize the soft prying tone where she’s dying to ask if he’s my boyfriend but won’t say it.

  “Yeah, he’s great,” I reply.

  She cuts me a look with narrowing eyes. “That’s it? A spunk like that carries your bag for you, and that’s all you give me?”

  “Spunk? Is that from the eighties? No one talks like that.”

  She laughs at me and turns on the radio. “As long as he treats you well and doesn’t distract your studies, and most importantly, you don’t let him into your dorm room, then it’s okay.”

  “Mom!” I practically screech, thinking of her reaction if she found out that I had just lost my virginity to my professor.

  She reaches over and pats my thigh. “I’ve missed you so much.”

  “So much.” I exhale a deep breath. “You have no clue how happy it makes me that I get to spend a weekend at home.”

  “Okay, so tell me everything about Raven Academy.”

  I spend the long trip giving her details on classes, teachers, the dragon statues, the meals we get, and even how much fun the camping trip was despite the disastrous ending. I leave out the obvious boyfriend situation and killings and bullying. I don’t want to worry them or create any reason for them to take me from the school and risk Dad no longer having his medical bills paid.

  As we pull up in the driveway, there’s something almost surreal to stare up at our house. Somehow it looks older, smaller.

  We climb out and I grab my bag from the back seat. Without waiting for Mom who’s opening the garage door seeing as they still haven’t fixed the broken remote control, I rush inside and dump my bag near the door.

  “Dad,” I call out and hurry down the open foyer and toward the kitchen toward the back of the house.

  He’s not there, so I step to the back door and look outside to find him in our small garden, holding a bunch of fresh herbs. My heart soars at seeing him out and about a bit, and he looks so much better. More color in his face.

  I palm open the door and rush outside, my feet sinking into the soft lawn.

  Dad turns to me, his mouth curls into a smile, and he steps my way. I run to him and hug him tight, my head snuggled against his chest. His arms go around my back and he kisses the top of my head.

  He feels skinnier in my embrace, thickening my throat, but I put on a brave face and look up at him. “Can you tell I’ve missed you?”

  “If sending you away was all it took to make you hug me this much, I would have sent you to a boarding school ages ago,” he jokes.

  “Yeah right. So how are you doing, what did the doctors say? Tell me everything.” I can’t wait for another moment. I want to hear the words that his prostate cancer is gone, and he no longer needs chemo.

  “Treatments have worked incredibly well. I got a call from the doctor this morning who said all signs of the cancer are gone. A few more treatments to be sure, and I’ll be diagnosed as in remission. I can finally grow all my hair back.” He runs a hand over his bald head, but I don’t notice anything but the joy in his smile, the cheeriness in his voice. I can hear the positiveness in his words, all the stress is gone. The stress of not having enough money to pay for the treatments and medication. The stress of his sickness.

  Tears are pushing forward and I wish they wouldn’t because this is fantastic news. But Dad catches one of my tears as it runs down my cheek. “Don’t cry for me. The doctor said it was miraculous how quickly I’ve healed, and it’s all because you made the sacrifice to go to Raven Academy.”

  “I’d go and live on the moon if it meant you’d heal, and you never died.” Saying the word had my chin quivering and the tears falling heavy. Tears for the sorrow for my dad I’ve been bravely holding onto, the fear that I’d lose him.

  “Oh, baby, come here.” He took me into his arms and held me as I let it all out. I didn’t realize how much I’ve been holding onto until now.

  “She finally comes home, and you make her cry?” Mom calls out from the back door.

  Dad’s laughing and rubbing my back until I turn around and wipe my eyes dry.

  “Did you tell your dad about your boyfriend?”

  I almost die at hearing her gloating.

  “What? Who? I need to know and see if he’s good enough for Adeline,” he jokes, and it feels amazing to hear him so happy. The heaviness in the house before I left for Raven Academy weighed on me, but now it feels full of promise and love.

  “Oh, not a boyfriend. He’s just some guy I met.” Not like I can admit I might have four boyfriends, plus a teacher I lost my virginity too, and oh yes, I’m having strange feelings toward Connor again. When I think of it that way, Clarissa’s words float in my head. But I shake them off, refusing to bring her negativity with me.

  “He’s super sweet and so kind. He was planning on taking me on a picnic today.”

  “And you turned him down for us?”

  “Of course, are you mad? Family always comes first. Isn’t that what you used to say?”

  “Good girl.” he swings an arm around my shoulders, and we stroll back toward the house. This is exactly what I need to rebalance myself and get my thoughts straight about everything going on back at the Academy.

  I stuff another mouthful of Dad’s beef roast into my mouth, the salty, spicy flavor engulfing my tastebuds. The meat melts on my tongue. “This is so good.” I cut another piece and don’t stop eating until my plate is empty.

  Dad’s already slicing more and filling my plate again, while I scoop the baked potatoes and carrots onto my plate as well.

  “I thought you said you ate lots at school,” Dad says. “No wonder you’re looking a bit skinny.”

  “Yeah, but it doesn’t taste like home cooking.” I glance up at my parents sitting across from me at the kitchen table, smiling and chatting like the old days. On the fridge farther behind Mom is a photo of the three of us next to a donkey from a couple of years ago. We’d gone on a trip to the Grand Canyon and we all rode a donkey down the steep terrain.

  I love my parents unconditionally, but the memory of my blood test has been floating in my mind most of the day. To ask them about the truth, where I came from. Maybe that will help me work out the whole angel theory.

  Chewing on my food, I twirl the words in my thoughts on how to ask. Blurt it out, hint at it, make a joke about being adopted?

  “You’re looking very serious,” Dad murmurs. “What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?”

  I grab my glass of apple juice and wash down the food in my mouth and try to calm my bouncing knees under the table. “They made us have blood tests at school.” My heart twists, and I want to swallow but my mouth goes suddenly dry, so I finish my juice.

  Mom and Dad exchange knowing looks, and I see the panic crawling over their faces. They know what I’m referring to, I see it scribbled all over their furrowing expressions.

  Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything, maybe I should have waited a bit longer. I don’t want Dad to worry, and now I regret saying anything, at least until after Dad has the all clear from the doctors.

  With a deep breath, Mom places her fork down on the table and turns toward me. “Think it’s about time we show you something.” She rose to her feet, while Dad wipes his mouth and gets up as well.

 
Trepidation slithers through me at what they’ll show me, and I follow them up to their bedroom. I sit on the edge of the queen-sized bed, while Dad opens the wardrobe and reaches deep on the top shelf. He pulls out a tiny box and both my parents sit on the bed across from me.

  Dad opens the wooden box, the hinges making a tiny squeak.

  With a deep breath I look inside.

  Dad pulls out a dusty pink ribbon and he lays it across my open palm. It’s as thick as my index finger and as long as my hand. My name has been carefully embroidered into the fabric, the stitching delicate and tiny. Dad places a white feather in my hand alongside the ribbon. It’s silky to the touch, and I look up at him with confusion.

  “What does this mean?” The anxiety is strangling me as I keep staring from the feather to my parents.

  “Your mom and I have never been able to have children, and we’d been praying for years.”

  Mom shuffles closer and takes my hand, a thin smile lingers on her mouth, her eyes watery. “One night we found you on our doorstep in a basket. That ribbon was tied to your wrist, and the feather tangled inside your messy blonde hair.” She pushes my hair off my face and cups my cheek. “You were so adorable with round, rosy cheeks, crystal blue eyes, and you never cried. You were the perfect baby as if God himself delivered you to us.”

  I can’t help but think how ironic her words are about God, when all I can hear in my head is Braxton telling me I might be an angel.

  I don’t say anything for a bit as I try to process everything.

  “My real parents just abandoned me then. Is something wrong with me?” My voice is tight.

  “Baby.” Mom drew me into her arms, hugging me, covering me in kisses. “Don’t think like that. You were meant to be with us, that’s what matters. Some people can’t cope with a young child.” Her words fade away. “You were almost one when you came to us.”

  Then she sniffles. I hug her back, and I notice Dad is watching us with a glassy gaze.

  I have so many questions as I look down at the feather clenched in my hand, remembering the blood test at school.