Ava: Before killing Justice
We make it to school in a nick of time, precisely an hour or so before the first bell rings for the first period. I’m leaning against my locker, fumbling in my knapsack for Justice’s padlock while she fixes her hair in her compact mirror. I haven’t gotten used to knowing she’s cut her hair to her shoulders and curled the tips. She said she would rather die than have short hair, but here she is, raking her fingers through it. Cece is ranting on about this online novel written by an anonymous romance writer at school. I find it irksome that Cece of all people gets to have a juicy exclusive every Friday when it takes me days to get something eligible for the sports section for the school’s paper.
“How do you get the chapters to even publish them, anyway?” I ask her reluctantly and hand Justice her padlock.
Cece is all smiles, sugar and spice and everythin
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