by Sarah Mello
Winston crossed his arms and raised a brow. “Principal Winchester?”
“He wouldn’t tell me why he needed it, but he said if I agreed to the favor, he would help me out.”
I stepped forward. “What was the favor, Piper?”
Her eyes scanning the pavement, she tried finding the words to say. “I did it,” she admitted. “I put the answer key in his bag.”
“Wait a minute,” I said. “Are you saying that Principal Winchester gave you the answer key and bribed you into framing JC?”
Piper nodded.
“Why would Principal Winchester want JC kicked off the wrestling team?” Casey asked.
“I don’t know,” Piper replied. “I didn’t ask questions.”
“You didn’t ask?” Winston laughed. “So you just happily agreed to setting your boyfriend up?”
“What could Principal Winchester have offered you to get you to turn on JC?” Buckets asked her.
Piper dropped her head. “A Princeton profile.”
“Pardon?” Winston said.
“A Princeton profile,” she repeated, but louder.
“What the hell is that?” Cliff asked.
“In short, it’s an outline of what Princeton is looking for in admissions.”
Norah smirked. “Why would you need that?”
Piper ran her fingers through her wavy hair. “Because I just do, okay?”
“Why?” Ari asked. “You’re the smartest girl I know. You’ll get into Princeton.”
“You don't get it,” Piper said. “I’m not like the rest of you.”
“We know,” Norah said. “You’re better.”
“No I’m not!” Piper’s voice caused us all to stiffen up. “I struggle.”
“With which Porsche to drive to school in the mornings?” Winston mocked her attempt to collect sympathy.
Piper continued running her fingers through her curls. “I struggle—”
“Christ, Piper, spit it out.” Cliff tossed his hand out in front of him.
“You all think I’m so perfect—but I’m not,” Piper blurted out. “I have to kill myself to get the grades that I do. While you’re all out with friends on the weekends, I’m home studying. While you’re dreaming at night, I’m up practicing for hours until my wrist is throbbing and my nerves are shot. I don’t sleep. I hardly have time to eat. All I do is study and practice. Nothing comes easy to me! Nothing.”
We all looked around the circle at one another, unable to respond.
Piper pulled on her pearls; tears ran down her cheeks. “I know it wasn’t right, okay? But when he offered me something that would take a load off my shoulders—having an itemized list of things I need to work on, rather than working on everything at once—I just jumped for it.”
“I’m sure you could guess what Princeton wants,” Casey said. “Why did you need the list?”
Piper bit her lower lip; she glared at us as if she resented every person standing there. “None of you would understand. None of you have tracking problems when you read, do you? None of you lose your place every time you go to the next line—and completely forget what you just read so you have to go back and reread the whole thing. None of you spent most of your childhood doing hours of vision therapy because your eyes have trouble converging and diverging or whatever. None of you have a Brock string hanging off your doorknob that you have to use every day to strengthen your eyes.” Her hardened gaze traveled from person to person. “Your lives are so easy, and you don’t even know it. Judge me if you want, but I needed that profile because I have to divide any task I do into chunks. It’s something I’ve had to do since I was little.” She squeezed her moist eyes shut as her voice broke. “Writing is just as hard for me. I’ve been literally frozen over how I can tackle Princeton’s entry essays. But with that list, I can make sure I have everything they want in there.” She paused, setting her jaw. “Yeah, I know. . . . You think it’s just common knowledge what Princeton wants, but it’s not. Everyone who applies has good grades, talents, and extracurricular activities, just like me. I needed to know what would set me apart from everyone else.” She looked around the circle with pleading eyes. “People would kill for that secret profile.”
“Piper, you could have just asked me for help with your essays,” I said, squinting at her. “You know writing is what I do.”
“No.” Piper shook her head violently as if I were asking her to jump off a bridge. “I didn’t want you guys to know. I couldn’t have you guys treating me like I was some charity case.”
“You should still be ashamed of yourself,” Winston said.
Ari exhaled loudly; her flat voice followed. “Jesus, give the girl a break, would you? We’ve all done equally horrific things. This is Westcott High. It’s not exactly the dumping ground for the virtuous. The girl did what she had to. If I had to guess, it’s nothing you wouldn't do if you were being bribed by your principal. We’ve all been stabbing each other in the backs for years. Let’s not start acting high-minded, because at the end of the day, we’re all just as screwed up as Piper.”
“Was your dad in on this?” I asked her.
“Of course not,” she replied. “He doesn’t know about any of it.”
“Hang on a minute.” Buckets stepped forward. “Why is your garage-door code the code to the school’s safe?”
“What are you talking about?” Piper asked.
“I typed it in, and it worked,” I said.
“How do you know my garage-door code?” Piper asked.
“JC gave it to her,” Casey said. “Sonny and Kyle broke into your house the night of the dance. They saw you on the golf course with a manila envelope and wanted to see what was inside.”
Piper crossed her arms. “You broke into my house?”
“Stand down, Judas,” Winston said. “You leaked Ari and Cliff’s video—and the photos of Sonny and Jacob.”
“What are you talking about?” Piper squinted her eyes. “I didn’t leak those.”
My heart dropped. “That wasn’t you?”
“Of course not,” she replied. “Why would I do something like that?”
“Really?” Buckets nodded. “You’re noble now?”
Piper looked around the group. “Look, I know what I did was wrong, but I’m trying to make it right. I didn’t leak anyone’s anything.”
Cliff stepped forward as he looked around the circle. “Then who did?”
Everyone’s eyes made their rounds.
“I don’t know,” Piper said. “But I swear to you—I didn’t do it.”
“So Winchester gave you the profile?” Ari asked Piper.
“He tucked it inside of a catalog and told me to hide it. No one else has this profile. But he has connections.”
I looked around the group.
“Wait a minute—why did you break into the school’s safe?” Piper asked.
“Because Mr. Russell left behind a riddle on JC’s doorstep. And he clearly wanted him to figure out what it meant. We thought it would lead us to evidence that linked you to the setup.” I sighed. “But we still haven’t been able to figure it out.”
“What does the riddle say?” she asked.
“No one is safe at Geraldine’s,” Casey said.
Piper lifted her finger and dragged it through the air as if she were attempting to write the riddle out in front of her. “Is that why you were in Geraldine’s? You were looking for clues?”
I nodded.
“What did you find?” Piper asked.
“Other than a creepy photo of a little boy standing in the middle of a field—nothing.” Winston rolled his eyes.
“What was inside the safe?” Piper asked.
“Nothing.” I dropped my head. “It was empty.”
“That’s the big bomb?” Norah questioned. “There was nothing in there?”
Cliff grabbed his bottom lip and laughed. “When did I become smarter than you, kid?” He stepped forward, smiling at me with his eyes. “Guy Penn’s grandp
arents own Geraldine’s. Ed and Dorie Williams—Mrs. Penn’s parents.”
My heart sunk.
“Guy Penn is the creepy boy from the photo?” Buckets asked.
“Her parents own more than a coffee shop,” Cliff said. “They own a ton of real estate.”
Buckets shrugged. “So?”
“There’s one piece of land they’ve owned for over a decade and haven’t been willing to sell, regardless of how many times my dad has tried to purchase it.” Cliff paused. “The land the left wing is on.”
“Guy’s grandpa owns that?” Norah asked.
Cliff nodded. “The riddle led you to Geraldine’s in hopes you’d see the picture.”
“What about the safe?” Winston questioned.
“You got the riddle wrong,” Cliff replied. “Russell wasn’t leading you to the safe. Can’t you read? He was telling you that no one is safe. He literally typed it out for you.”
We cut our eyes at Norah.
“I told you I love puzzles,” Norah said. “I never said I was good at them.”
“What you’re good at wouldn't help us here,” Winston replied.
“Principal Winchester needed the land for expansion, so that the kids on the waiting list could finally get in.” Cliff looked toward the sky, pacing back and forth across the pavement. “More kids, more money, more power.” He smirked. “But Ed wouldn’t sell it. Unless, of course, Winchester could secure his grandson a top spot on the wrestling team.”
Piper placed her hand over her mouth.
“But Westcott’s waiting list is full. So what’s the only way a student can get into Westcott automatically?” Cliff asked.
“If their parent is a teacher,” I whispered as everything began making sense.
“Which is why he fired Russell and gave Penn his job. It was the perfect exchange. Who would have suspected anything? A mom gets hired as the new English teacher, and her son tries out for the team when he realizes there’s a spot open.” He glanced at Piper. “Winchester found your weak spot, used you to frame JC, and tipped off Coach Dirk. JC gets busted with the answer key, then suspended, and Winchester’s plan flies under the radar.”
“Until Mr. Russell caught on,” I said. “He figured it out. He knew.”
“If you’re so smart, why didn’t you piece this together before now?” Winston asked Cliff.
“Because this is the first I'm hearing that Piper framed JC, or that there was a riddle left behind,” Cliff replied. “I didn’t think anything of it when Guy came to the school.”
“Winchester framed JC for land?” Ari questioned.
“Piper framed JC for land,” Winston corrected her.
Casey let out a quick breath. “And Principal Winchester ruined JC’s life for it.”
“Not his whole life,” Cliff replied. “Just one wrestling season.”
“He wouldn’t do that,” I said.
Cliff glanced at me. “Again . . . shitty humans.”
“I’ll turn myself in,” Piper said, jumping toward the middle of the circle. “I’ll go to the police.”
“We can’t trust you,” Buckets said. “You’ve been trying to fool everyone for months. Struggles or not, you’re nothing but a liar.”
“I was desperate, okay? I wasn’t thinking straight. Once I set him up, I thought I was in too deep. I didn’t see a way out of the lie. And I didn’t want to get caught at first, which is why I warned Sonny to drop it. But now that I know the truth . . . I don’t care anymore.” Piper wiped her eyes. “I never wanted to hurt JC. Not for Princeton. Not for anything.” Her voice was convincing. “And I’ll prove it. I’m confessing to helping Winchester. I’m exposing him for what he did to JC.”
“When?” I asked.
“Monday,” Piper replied. “I’ll go straight to the police on Monday.”
I looked around the safe-opening group as everyone waited for my reply. Dropping my chin to my chest, I reluctantly passed the torch. “Okay.” I shook my head. “Yeah . . . okay.”
“I’ll do whatever I have to do for JC,” Piper said. “For all of you.”
Friendship. Where would we be without it? Who would we be? And if eight people started caring, what could it be?
17
letters
Letters—those notes that bring us a wide variety of feelings and emotions. I suppose it depends on the content. Recommendation letters bring hope. Acceptance letters bring joy. Breakup letters—great pain. We all receive letters at some point in our lives. Most will be harmless. Some will be important. And then there are some that bring the greatest amount of fear that no reader, on their best day, would be able to shake. If you’re real lucky, you’ll never receive this kind of paper.
Sadly, it turned out we Westcott students weren’t as lucky as we thought.
My head hung low as I walked through the school’s parking lot on Monday morning. The sky had an unusual darkness to it, unlike any time before. The crows flew from light post to light post as the gray clouds slowly rolled over them. The building’s red brick looked a little bit darker, and the ostentatious cars looked a little less important.
“Sonny!” A voice yelled from behind.
I turned around, my face matching the environment. “Hi,” I said.
Kyle slowly walked toward me and pulled my head into his arms. “I’m sorry,” he said, his chin on my scalp. “I was an asshole.”
I pulled away and looked into his spent eyes; his remorse was notable. “Yeah,” I replied. “You were.”
“Do you forgive me?” he asked.
“Do you forgive me?”
“It wasn’t your fault, Sonny. I don’t blame you for any of this.”
“I could have told you,” I said. “I should have.”
“You could have. But I understand why you didn’t.” He took a deep breath. “Truce?”
I looked down at my text thread with Jacob; I had three undelivered text messages.
Kyle nudged me. “Sonny?”
I ran my thumb across the screen. “Yeah . . . um . . .”
“Look, we have to make up,” Kyle said.
I locked my phone, temporarily setting aside my confusion. “And why’s that?”
“We only have fourteen more years before we walk down the aisle.”
“Fine. Truce.” I rolled my eyes and tried to smile. “But I’m so not marrying you.”
“You don’t know that,” Kyle replied. He paused, the smile fading from his face. “Winston called and filled me in on everything from your meeting in parking lot C on Saturday night. I’ve been sick since yesterday, trying to digest the information.”
I exhaled loudly. “I knew your dad was a little dark, but this? I had no idea he would do something so sadistic. What was he thinking? Using Piper to frame her boyfriend for a piece of land?”
“It’s not all that shocking, Sonny,” Kyle said as we both walked toward the front of the school. “I told you—he’s just not a good man.”
“That’s an understatement,” I replied. “If he did that to JC, are any of us even safe?”
“I’ve never felt safe with that man a day in my life,” he replied. “I just can’t believe Piper actually confessed.”
“But not to leaking the video and photos,” I said. “Which means someone else was trying to mess with us.”
“Like who?” he asked.
“I don’t know.” I looked around the eerily empty parking lot. “Does it even matter anymore?”
He shrugged. “I guess it’s not the weirdest thing that has happened in Westcott.”
“True.” I tapped my phone to wake the screen, glancing down to see if any texts had come through. “Have you talked to Cliff yet?” I asked him, realizing none had.
Kyle adjusted the hood on his sweatshirt. “No.”
“Ari?”
“Nope.”
“Casey?”
Kyle dropped his arms. “No. You’re the first person I’ve talked to all weekend, besides Winston.”
We
walked into the double doors and plopped down on a nearby stairwell.
Suddenly, Winston came trotting down the steps and landed right beside me. “You two talking again?” he asked, adjusting his burgundy checkered scarf.
“Always,” Kyle replied.
“So when exactly is this going down?” Winston asked. “Won’t Piper have the police here first thing this morning?”
“I think that’s the plan,” I said. “Do you think your dad suspects anything, Kyle?”
Just then, Ari appeared from the side of the railing, giving Kyle a quick glance before walking up the steps; we all knew she was likely heading toward the music room.
I watched as Kyle lost himself in his own thoughts; his eyes were glued to Ari as they followed her up the entire flight of stairs.
I wanted to believe Kyle could eventually love Casey and fall out of love with Ari. Because every guy should know when it’s time for them to leave. But that’s the tricky thing about love. If you aren’t the type to walk away, and you aren’t the kind of person who moves on quickly, you subsequently become the one who stays.
“Ky?” I asked, attempting to reroute his attention.
Kyle shook his head. “No. I don’t think my dad suspects anything.”
Winston looked at me, his eyes filled with concern.
“I still can’t believe your dad would use JC as bait for a piece of property,” I said.
“Really?” JC asked as he took a seat behind me on the stairs. “Because now that I know he was behind this, it sounds exactly like something he would do.”
“I agree.” Buckets turned the corner. “I filled JC in on everything.”
All of a sudden, Assistant Principal Clemmons came over the intercom. “If I could have everyone’s attention, please. I need all students to report to parking lot C; please report to parking lot C for a mandatory fire drill. This is not an option. Please make your way to parking lot C.” He paused. “Thank you.”
His humdrum voice was telling, and I knew this was no routine fire drill.
We all stood up and walked out the door, making our journey toward the other parking lot. The students who were walking inside made a U-turn and walked the other way—Casey being one of them.
“Fire drill, huh?” she said. Her blue shirt was the perfect choice on a justice-seeking day such as this one.
