Cutting Up The Competition (Horror High #2) by Carissa Ann Lynch

phone calling privileges in there, don’t they?”
    Mom spoke up. “My daughter should have told you, Mr. Simms. That would have been the responsible thing to do.”
    I frowned, glaring at my mother angrily.
    Who the hell did she think she was? And speaking of responsibility…maybe she should learn how to be a better, more responsible mother.
    “Wait. Do you think the person who called them is the same one who killed that girl and tried to kill the other?” my mom asked.
    “Their names are Genevieve and Brittani, Mom.”
    I stared at Detective Simms, wanting to hear his answer.
    They both ignored me, talking like I wasn’t even there…
    “I absolutely do, ma’am,” he said.
    With that said, Detective Simms placed a Ziploc bag on top of the table. He slid it toward me.
    There was a note inside of it, five lines of blood red letters written on the front side of the plain white sheet of paper:
     
    I got murder, yes I do
    I got murder, how about you?
    We got murder, yes we do
    I'll chop your nose off
    And eat it too…
     
    My heart was pounding so hard I thought it might burst through my chest. I could feel my mother stiffen beside me. 
    “Who wrote this?” I asked. It was a stupid question. If he knew who wrote it, he wouldn’t be sitting here talking to me…
    “We found this in Genevieve’s backpack. Someone must have sent it to her at some point during the day. Her boyfriend Ronnie said she seemed worried about something at lunch and still seemed upset before she headed to practice. Someone was waiting for her in the girls’ locker room. This was premeditated.”
    “Is that blood?” I pointed at the bright red writing on the note.
    “It’s being tested, but I don’t think so. It’s too bright, too fresh.”
    Detective Simms was watching me, studying my reaction to all of this. He had probably been to see half a dozen other kids from school too, but I couldn’t help feeling that he might suspect me because of my family history of violence and craziness…
    “That’s not all,” he said.
    I watched in horror as he reached inside his bag, pulling out another note covered in plastic.
    I stared at the words, not breathing.
     
    Violets are blue.
    Roses are red.
    Genevieve lost her nose.
    Now you’ll lose your head…
     
    “In the other girl’s locker?” my mom asked, touching the plastic evidence, then pulling her hand back in disgust.
    I felt hands on my shoulders from behind. I looked up at Grandma Mimi. She was nervous…more nervous than I’d ever seen her, lips pursed and one eye twitching.
    “Will that girl be okay? The one whose throat was—”
    “Her name is Brittani,’ I interjected, my voice flat.
    “I think she’ll be fine. She’ll have a scar, but that’s it. She got lucky. It was a person all in black, face covered, who attacked her in the girl’s bathroom. She was getting changed for tryouts, since the locker room and gym were closed. Whoever it was, they were waiting in a bathroom stall. That’s according to Brittani’s own account.”
    I shivered.
    “A janitor came in and the perpetrator ran. If he hadn’t interrupted, I have no doubt Brittani would be dead right now, and this second note—about losing a head—was certainly intended for her.”
    After showing us the freakish letters, Detective Simms asked me nearly fifty questions. Did I know of anyone who’d want to hurt Genevieve or Brittani? Anyone who’d want to hurt me? Where did I change for practice? Did I see anyone or anything suspicious? Had I received any notes similar to these notes?
    I can barely recall my answers. Once he was gone, I took my phone and climbed the steps to my bedroom, too mentally exhausted and overwhelmed to do anything.
    I crawled beneath the covers, my body still chilled from the creepy words on the notes.
    A few minutes later, I heard the door to my bedroom open. My mother kicked her shoes off and climbed in bed beside me. Normally I would have protested, but tonight I was grateful