“Maybe the scholarship is her excuse,” said Devon. “Maybe that’s how she justified it. She’s the most competitive person I know, and I know Lia.”
Lia couldn’t even bring herself to laugh. “Then why the alphabetical order?” she asked. “Why the pattern?”
Gem shrugged. “Who knows?”
Lia shook her head. “She’s overplanning it—the bridge, Ben’s allergy, stalking Cassidy, the stairwell. It’s like she joined Assassins with a step-by-step plan to win before finding out the rules and her target. There were much easier ways to kill you.”
“Comforting,” Devon said. “I assume that means you think you can stop her?”
Lia nodded. “We need to out-plan the overplanner.”
“We need to set a trap for her.” Lia took Devon’s hand, scared she would turn a corner later and find him dead. So long as he didn’t leave her sight, it would be fine, but he had to leave her sight. “We can lure her out after school, as long as she thinks you’re alone.”
“She plans for days.” Gem mimed writing in a journal. “She has color-coded bullet journals for each semester, makes lists upon lists of everything she needs to do, and uses stickers to mark her progress, but she never quite gets it all done. She spends all her time planning and then goes off-script. How do you trap that?”
“Even with Ben, which she clearly planned, it was a mess,” Lia said. “And with Cassidy, she used what she had on hand. She didn’t bring anything.”
“If we get her into an empty room, she’ll probably just try to strangle you,” Gem said. “You can probably take her.”
“No thank you,” Devon said. “I prefer a bit more than ‘probably’ on my side, especially since she’s been doing CrossFit.”
She had overpowered the others. They couldn’t risk that happening again. Lia let go of Devon and turned to Gem. “You should get that prop knife. Your fourth block is drama, right?”
Gem nodded. A junior glared at them as she shoved past Devon into class, and he squeezed Lia’s hand.
“We have two minutes until the bell,” he said, holding up his phone. “We can’t clear a room of everything deadly before the end of school when her list of weapons includes a table.”
“No, we give her several weapons that are too good for her to pass up but we make sure they can’t actually hurt us,” Lia whispered quickly. “Faith doesn’t just think she’s smarter than everyone but that she deserves everything. The world revolves around her. She won’t even question a knife if we make sure it fits in with the surroundings at least a little. She’s too self-centered to think it’s out of place if it’s for her.”
“Go.” Devon gave her a gentle shove. “Text me your plan. She’s in my fourth-block class. You have until then.”
Gem and Lia split up for third block, and Lia sat in the back of her communications class, her old flip phone barely keeping up with her typing. At least the school Wi-Fi was fast. Devon protested: he didn’t want to die or get them hurt, but they all knew that if they even broached the topic of Faith Franklin being the killer that no one would believe them until evidence proved it. If Lia was right, and she was fairly sure she was, then Faith was getting desperate.
If this was a terrible plan to get the Governor’s Scholarship, her deadline to be offered one was fast approaching, and Lia could almost understand that. Tuition, room and board, and school fees paid in full for four years—it was a dream many joked was worth killing for.
Lia texted Gem and Devon.
If we’re wrong and she’s innocent, we’ll all be fine. If we’re right, this will keep you safe and prove it’s her. Please trust me.
No one ever believed Lia. No one ever had faith in her. No one ever trusted her.
But if she helped catch the killer and cleared her name, maybe the only gossip about her wouldn’t be sordid rumors about murder and her obsession with Assassins.
Devon said:
I do, and I should be the bait. If you’re right, I’m next, and if it’s Faith, I was one of her targets all along. She’ll risk it to kill me. She already risked it the other night. The stairwell and Cassidy were way less organized.
Lia stared at Devon’s words, her chest tight and eyes burning.
You’ll be in danger.
Not if your plan works. I trust you
I’m tired of waking up only to find another friend dead. If no one else will face this head-on, we have to
Gem texted:
What do we do?
They decided that Devon would let it slip that he was going to be chilling in the drama room behind the stage before orchestra. They’d place a prop knife near the door so that Faith would see it. The one from Wait Until Dark would be perfect.
Lia knew Faith kept Mace on her keychain.
Gem, can you get rid of that?
Gem’s response was slow.
Maybe? It’s hard to rip something off of a keychain
Gem decided to try to get the Mace between third and fourth block while Lia distracted her. Lia would somehow distract Faith and let her know Devon would be alone and stop her before she could walk into fourth block.
Lia sprinted from the class once it was over. Students whispered and darted out of her way. Before Abby’s death, Lia had been known in that way the laws of thermodynamics were—some students at Lincoln High knew of her and remembered her first name, but only a few knew her. Now everyone knew her.
She didn’t like it.
Gem passed her near the corner by Faith’s fourth block. Devon got there first, and Lia wrapped her fingers around his wrist, holding him back in the hallway.
“This isn’t the plan?” he asked softly.
Lia leaned in close. “I need her to see us talking.”
A carrot at the end of a stick wasn’t enticing if the carrot wasn’t supposed to be there in the first place. Traps needed context.
“Oh, okay,” Devon said. “Think Gem can pull this off?”
“Yeah.” Lia caught sight of Faith turning the far corner just behind Devon and smiled. “Slump your shoulders. Look tired.”
“Be careful,” she whispered, and patted his shoulder. He reached up to squeeze her hand. “Go inside and then meet me in the drama room the moment you can.”
It was the only place to which they had access that would make sure they were found. After twenty minutes, students would start wandering to the auditorium for rehearsal and Lia’s mom would be looking for her from the pickup line.
Faith cut through the crowd toward the door next to Lia. Gem followed. Faith’s keychain swung from her backpack zipper with each step, and Lia looked up. She let her mouth fall open slightly and waved. Faith stopped next to her.
“Lia,” she said, her eyes flitting over her. “How are you?”
“You know.” Lia shrugged and pretended it was hard to even force a smile. “I actually have a favor to ask you, but don’t feel weird if you want to say no.”
Faith cocked her head to the side, her long brown hair swinging forward in a sheet and suddenly all Lia could see was the barrel of Ben’s water gun.
Lia realized her hands were clenched. She loosened them.
“Do you think I could borrow your copies of your sister’s notes?” Lia asked, biting her nail. “Class has just been hard recently. I feel like an idiot. I didn’t even think about asking for Mark’s notes.”
Even if she had, she was sure he wouldn’t have handed them over.
Faith sighed, a slight smile on her lips. “Of course. We could meet after school today if you want?”
“Thank you so much.” Lia threw her arms around Faith, hugged her tight for two seconds, and watched Gem finish unhooking the Mace canister from Faith’s keychain. Lia squeezed Faith once more before letting go. “Really. That makes everything seem way less terrifying.”
Gem pocketed the Mace and bl
ended seamlessly into the crowded hallway.
“No problem,” Faith said. “So today?”
“I can’t. I’m staying for orchestra rehearsal with Devon. He usually decompresses backstage before everyone arrives, and I’m going to run and get some food before rehearsal starts.” Lia shrugged and bit her lip. “Maybe tomorrow I can meet you somewhere?”
Faith smiled too broadly than anyone would on a day overshadowed by three deaths and nodded. “Tomorrow. I’ll message you?”
“Sure!” Lia said. “Thanks again.”
Lia made it to class with thirty seconds to spare. Everything felt so normal: her teacher went over a new chapter, her classmates looked over their homework they needed to do while school was canceled with bored expressions, and less studious kids played on their phones under desks and behind books. Lia messaged Devon to tell him what she had said, and he promised to try and mention it offhandedly if he thought he could. Lia was already halfway out the door when the bell rang. She raced to the auditorium. Gem was already there.
“Prop knife,” Gem said, holding up a deceptively sharp switchblade. “Even has room for a squib at the end of the hilt. I’ll keep her distracted for a minute so you have a chance to clear out anything else. I grabbed all the pens, pencils, and scissors. The tools are locked up, thankfully.”
Lia swallowed, shuddering at the image of Devon beneath the blades of a circular saw.
Lia went over every inch of the room she could see and moved heavy, slammable objects to the far side of the room behind the teacher’s desk. By the time Devon arrived, her hands were shaking. He dropped his bag in a desk chair and shut the door. She jumped.
“Sorry,” he said. “Lia?”
“The papier-mâché masks aren’t much of a threat, but you can throw them if need be.” She moved to the side of the room where old books and props lined the wall. Lia tested their weight and opened an empty drawer. “She was strong enough to overpower Cassidy, so we—”
“Lia.” He curled his hand around hers and closed the drawer. “It’s okay.”
“It’s not.” Lia spun, her nose bumping his chest. “It’s really not.”
“I trust you,” he said.
Lia shuddered. “Why?”
“Because I’ve never known you to fail at something you put your mind to?” he said. “Because I know you’ll be in here with me, and that makes me nervous, but everyone else was alone. Because I do. If you’re asking me to analyze emotions, I need like five more hours and a nap.”
Lia wrapped her arms around his waist and tucked her face into his shoulder. Devon’s fingers tightened around hers. He kissed her cheek.
“We just have to make sure she’s caught,” he whispered. “We’re at school. It’s the middle of the day. If she really goes for this, she’ll be desperate, but we know that. It’ll be okay.”
Lia sniffed and nodded. She pulled back. “Let’s do this.”
Lia picked up the knife. The knife was metal and rigid, and the give of the blade was barely noticeable when Lia poked it against her hand.
“Ouch.” Devon took her hand and pulled the knife away before she could press it all the way down. “Not even pretend.”
He set the fake knife on the shelf at the front of the room with other harmless props Lia had left there and took her hands. Lia kissed him quickly.
“One last thing,” she said. “Can I borrow your phone?”
“Yeah.”
Lia scrolled through his apps, settled on one, and tucked it against a shelf at the back of the room.
“All right,” Devon said. “Let’s get me murdered.”
Lia crouched under the teacher’s desk in the back and watched the front of the room in the reflection of a display case. Devon laid his head on a desk as if he were napping. The door opened, Faith’s reflection distorted. Devon startled.
“Hey!” Faith waved from the front of the room and grinned. “Do you have a minute? I have some notes for Lia and I know she’s coming here later.”
“Yeah, of course.” Devon gestured to the empty seats. “What is it?”
She studied the shelf of old props. “Just some notes. You know her—a journal on Assassins but nothing for class.”
Lia couldn’t tell if she had picked up the knife.
“To be fair, it has been a rough month.” His hand was a white-knuckled fist against his leg. “Have you heard back yet?”
“No, you know how it goes,” Faith said, sighing and shrugging. One hand dropped into her pocket. “It must be nice to have everything taken care of already.”
Devon laughed, and the sound rattled awkwardly out of his tense mouth. “I suppose. It’s a bit daunting. There are very strict guidelines for keeping the scholarship.”
“I know.” Faith walked to the back of the room, dragging her hand across each desk. She stopped across from Devon. “I thought you wanted to go out of state? Can you still? You should. I would.”
If she took another step, Faith would see Lia in the reflection. Lia crept to her left, eyes on Faith’s reflection in the glass. The other girl did nothing but stare at Devon.
“I already signed the paperwork,” Devon said with ease, as if the words weren’t the nails Faith needed to hammer his coffin shut. “I worked quite hard for it. It seems rude to pass it up.”
“So rude,” said Faith. “It’s always best when we get what we deserve.”
“Do you deserve the scholarship?” Devon asked.
Lia flinched. He couldn’t be baiting her. Lia pulled a metal mechanical pencil from her pocket. She couldn’t see them anymore.
Faith sniffed. “Of course I do. Just like you said. I worked quite hard for it.”
Metal clicked against metal. Devon inhaled sharply.
“It might not even go to you,” Devon said. “What are you going to do? Kill your way through every single high school in the district till you get it? They know about the emails. They can track your IP address.”
Lia held still. Now Faith knew that he knew. That sound must have been the knife, but Faith didn’t know it was fake. Devon was drawing all her plotting out from her and putting on a good show for the hidden camera. All Lia had to do was let it play out.
“My dad’s a lawyer. I’ll be fine. Lincoln High has the highest test scores in the district. Like some Park Hills student scored higher than me. Please.” Faith laughed. Her phone clattered to the floor. “Pity Lia stole my phone. She’s been so unpredictable this semester, don’t you think? Probably the game and grief.”
“That’s very…” Devon hummed and took a deep breath. “Everyone worked hard for their scores. What makes you think you deserve it over us?”
“I’m not sure I deserve it more than you, but in a way, I do,” Faith said. “Because I’m going to do more with it.”
“Really?” he asked. “That’s your justification?”
She still hadn’t admitted to murder. Lia’s limbs were so tense she feared she would never move again.
“You want to work in the ER,” Faith said, fake gagging. “I want to save real lives.”
“Yeah,” Devon drawled, “murdering scholarship recipients for a miniscule chance to get their spot is going to be an excellent topic for your med school interviews. I can see it now. ‘I wanted to be a surgeon so badly I killed a few of my classmates.’ Really well done.”
He hissed. Lia jerked, scared that Faith had hurt him.
“I’m fine,” Devon said quickly, and Lia knew it was for her benefit. “You’ll be a great surgeon but your bedside manner needs work.”
But Lia’s heart wouldn’t calm.
“So what?” Faith slammed her hand against the benchtop. “I’m going to do real things. Important things. Who needs another vet? A communications major?” She snorted. “And Cassidy didn’t even know what she wanted. At least Georgia had plans,
even if they were bad ones.”
“Had?” Devon asked. “What did you do?”
Lia swallowed. Her hands fisted at her sides, fingers trembling till she clenched them tight.
“What I tried to do to you, but neither of you cooperated. Well, this is fun, but I have a schedule to stick to,” Faith said. “I assume Lia is here doing something stupid like recording me for later. Unless you have a gun, you should just come out.”
Lia licked her lips and stood. She let her sleeve fall over her hand to cover the safety scissors. Faith waved at her with one hand, and her other held the knife to Devon’s thigh. He glanced at her and shook his head. Lia shrugged.
“He’d survive that,” Lia said.
Faith snorted. “You should’ve paid more attention in biology, but you being here makes this easier.”
“Because I killed him?” Lia pointed to Devon.
Faith nodded. “Of course.”
“Okay. Sure.” Lia laid her hands flat against a desk, the scissors biting into her palm. Anger and fear flooded her veins. The knife wasn’t real. She just had to remember that the knife wasn’t real. “You’ve been banking on the scholarship for years, and if Abby, Cassidy, and Devon don’t take them, one will fall to you, sure. But why Ben and Georgia?”
“Oh my God, you’re impossible.” Faith tilted her head back and shook it. “I had to kill Ben so that May would turn down her scholarship and to throw the cops off. It’s not like he was doing anything. Georgia, same. Mostly. I think she scored higher than me.”
She had finally said it.
“You think?” Devon spat.
“Why the messages?” Lia asked. “Why make me look like the killer?”
“Because you’re jealous, obviously. You’re an easy target. Poor little Lia Prince stuck in the shadow of her brother and jealous of all her smart friends ruining the one thing she has,” she said. “And honestly, that journal makes you look like a killer anyway, scholarship angst or no.”
“You really think you earned it?” Lia asked.
The Game Page 17
