Notable (Smith High)

by Marni Bates

  “This is Rithisak Sovann.” I gestured with a ketchup-dipped french fry at the image of the dark-haired man. “He invested heavily in Cambodia right after the fall of the Khmer Rouge. Rithisak enjoys taking cruises and the finer things in life. He also has more money than even I could spend in a lifetime.”

  “Okay,” Liz said around a large bite of lasagna. “So do you want to rob him or nominate him for the Cambodian version of Dancing with the Stars?”

  “Neither. Rithisak Sovann happens to be Cambodia’s most notorious drug dealer.”

  Ben grinned and cocked his head while he pretended to study the photo. “That doesn’t mean he can’t tango. I bet he could pull off some sequins too. A feathered boa would set off his shoulders nicely.”

  “You’re hilarious, Ben. Now let’s try to focus. Even if it wasn’t his deal I accidentally derailed, he will definitely have heard the rumors about a missing drug shipment.”

  “And if you stole it directly from him?” Houston rubbed his forehead wearily. “What’s your brilliant plan then?”

  “Then we’ll do some backpedaling. The last thing we want to do is anger Rithisak Sovann. His Wikipedia page practically comes with a warning. Especially since he’s been known to start shooting when he doesn’t get his way.”

  Amy’s jaw dropped. “Explain to me again why this guy isn’t already in jail.”

  “Because it pays to be disgustingly rich and have friends in the government. Oh, and it helps when you own the biggest newspaper in Cambodia. He’s got that too.”

  Ben ruffled my hair. “Look at our girl—going into spy mode. I’m so proud.”

  I batted away his hand, but I couldn’t conceal my smile. Back at Smith High School everyone had dreaded working on a group project with me because they expected I would be dead weight that they would have to carry. Most of the time they had been right too. Why bother trying when you can successfully do nothing?

  Now it made a whole lot more sense to me why Jane and Mackenzie spent so many hours poring over all their assignments ; knowing that you were fully capable of handling any problem felt really freaking good.

  Still, I tried to play off the whole thing with a joke. “Looks like all those hours I spent cyberstalking boys in high school are really paying off now.”

  “Not funny, Chelsea,” Amy said.

  “I’m kidding!”

  Mostly.

  “So did your extensive research tell you where we could find this guy?” Liz asked. “The room service is great and everything, but I’d like to get a move on.”

  “Actually, uh, that’s the other reason I booked us a suite. Rithisak Sovann owns this hotel.”

  “Nothing like sleeping with the enemy.” Houston’s voice remained steady and calm, but his eyes flashed fire. “Let me rephrase that: Nothing like being booked into the enemy’s hotel room. Who else thinks a hostel sounds a whole lot better now?”

  “He’s not the enemy . . . yet. He’s the target,” Liz corrected. “And it’s not like he has any idea we’re here, so I don’t see any reason for us to leave.”

  I was nodding in agreement when the words Jane says . . . began flashing across the tab of my email account, signaling that she had sent me an instant message. I quickly clicked on the tab, relieved to see one very welcome sentence waiting for me in the chat box.

  Are you there, Chelsea?

  I debated my response for roughly a nanosecond.

  I’m here, geek.

  “Chelsea?”

  My head automatically bobbed in agreement before I realized I had no idea what anyone had said. “Sorry, what did I just miss?”

  Houston raised an eyebrow. “Amy asked if everything was all right.”

  Jane is typing . . .

  “Hold that thought,” I said distractedly.

  This better not be an elaborate prank, Chelsea. If Scott’s dad staked his reputation as a journalist on a nonstory, I will find a way to kick your butt. He’s working to get a news team out to you soon. You are still in Cambodia, right? RIGHT? *cracks knuckles menacingly* *books imaginary flight*

  I laughed in disbelief as I imagined classic good girl Jane Smith landing in Phnom Penh and demanding satisfaction for all the time she spent worrying about me for nothing. It wasn’t a particularly menacing image. After watching her barely manage to white knuckle her way through the singing part of the Romeo and Juliet audition, she didn’t exactly scare me. Unless she started singing again.

  I winced instinctively at the memory before I firmly pushed it aside.

  Of course I’m still in Cambodia. How long do you think it would take to get a news team out here?

  “Reading something good over there that you want to share with the rest of the class?” Houston asked drily.

  Not until I had Jane’s response.

  I don’t know how long it will take! Believe it or not, this isn’t exactly my area of expertise! Now I need you to tell me where exactly you are in Cambodia. Actually, I have a better plan....

  A ringing sound instantly filled the air, and I found myself hesitating as I stared at Jane’s invitation to video chat.

  Part of me had wanted to keep my Smith High School life separate from my time spent abroad. Initially, I had thought it would help me pretend that my banishment had never happened. All that mattered was the narrative. So as long as I could dismiss the trip as nothing more than a temporary leave of absence, nobody would dare challenge me for the details.

  The less information swirling around back home, the simpler it would be to sweep the whole thing under the rug.

  But that plan definitely wasn’t going to hold up now.

  Houston pointed at the screen, which placed one very nicely corded male forearm in front of me in the process. “Are you planning on answering that anytime soon, princess?”

  I straightened at the note of challenge in his voice and clicked to accept the call.

  There was no going back now.

  “Jane!” The sight of her familiar face filling the screen had adrenaline surging through me as if I’d just executed a perfect grand jeté. “How are you?”

  She dismissed that question with a slight wave of her hand. “I’m fine, Chelsea. But . . . um, wow . . . just how many people have you killed?”

  I stared at her in confusion. “Me personally? Nobody!”

  “Oh,” Jane grinned. “Really? Then maybe you haven’t looked in a mirror recently.”

  I fingered the choppy ends of my much shorter—much redder—hair and tried not to squirm. “It’s just hair. It’ll grow back.”

  “Actually, I kind of like it. In fact”—Jane started laughing—“you’re totally rocking it. Not that I should be surprised. This is you after all.” She shook her head and was back to being all business. “But I still need you to give me an exact location for the press.”

  Amy reddened slightly before she stuttered, “The press? Does that mean we’ll be giving interviews while we stay here? Wow. That’s . . . wow. How did you manage that?”

  I turned my attention back to an impatient Jane. “Good question. How did you manage that, Jane? Did you convince some big night news program to cover it?”

  “No!” Jane said, shooting me one of her you better be kidding me looks. “Of course not! You do realize that the story isn’t that groundbreaking, right? It’s not like the Cambodian government has done anything illegal.”

  “They took Neal!” I protested hotly.

  “Hey, innocent or not, if they busted him with drugs”—Jane shrugged helplessly—“it’s hard to prove he’s not guilty. That could easily happen in the U.S. with the exact same results.”

  “But he would’ve gotten a fair trial before being tossed into jail,” I argued.

  “Um . . . sure. Nothing ever goes wrong with our justice system. We don’t have overworked public defenders or tainted juries or any problems ever. Keep telling yourself that if it makes you feel better.”

  “Hi. As much as I enjoyed your insightful take on our justice s
ystem, do you think we could agree to focus on the task at hand?” Houston drawled. “I would really appreciate it.”

  And just like that, Houston had gained the respect of Smith High School’s most strategically goal-oriented student.

  “Right. Absolutely. So where are you?”

  “The Royal Continental Hotel in Phnom Penh,” Liz answered as she moved behind me. “Suite seventeen.”

  “A suite?” Jane choked and then laughed. “How very . . . Chelsea.”

  “What is that supposed to mean?” I demanded.

  “Oh, nothing.” She swiveled in her seat and called out to someone in the room with her who had chosen not to be onscreen. “Chelsea booked herself a suite.”

  That’s when I heard an all-too-familiar masculine laugh. “Of course she did. We should’ve guessed as much.”

  Jane turned back to me, and for the first time she looked a little apologetic. “Logan and Mackenzie are here with me. I probably should’ve mentioned that earlier. I asked them to help out. . . .”

  What was gearing up to be an uncomfortable situation became so much worse when Mackenzie and Logan entered the frame together, especially when she began sheepishly waving at me. I fought the urge to slam my laptop shut.

  “Hey, Chelsea,” Logan said easily, then he did a double-take when he got a good look at my hair. He still knew better than to comment on it. “It’s . . . uh, good to see you. High school just isn’t the same without you, Chels.”

  Yeah. You must be relieved that you no longer run into your ex in the hallways.

  I tried to take the words in the spirit in which they were given and forced myself to smile. “Thanks, Logan.”

  “Wait. This is Logan?” Ben hooted gleefully. I tried to silence him with a kick but connected only with the table leg. “You are not what I expected. I had you pegged as a whole lot preppier. I bet you don’t actually own anything with argyle. I’m kind of disappointed.” This time my foot did hit its intended target and he quickly added, “I mean . . . uh, it’s nice to meet you.”

  It was pretty obvious from the obnoxious grin widening on Ben’s face that he intended to find a way to tease me about this conversation every day for the foreseeable future.

  And it was equally clear that Logan didn’t particularly want him to elaborate on his expectations—or what they had been founded on. “Sorry, I didn’t catch your names.”

  “We call him ‘Nuisance’ most of the time,” I supplied quickly. “And Toronto is the guy currently doing an impression of a large-mouthed bass.”

  “You’re Mackenzie Wellesley.” Houston finally spoke although he looked positively tongue-tied. Maybe it shouldn’t have bothered me that after everything we’d been through it was Mackenzie who successfully rattled his ironclad composure—but it did. “I—uh, I saw you perform with ReadySet a few months ago. You’ve got a great voice.”

  “Thanks . . . Toronto?” she said tentatively, as if she couldn’t quite believe that was his name but didn’t want to hurt his feelings.

  She was just too freaking nice for me to even hate her properly.

  “It’s Houston, actually.” I thought I heard his voice crack on his own name before he began gruffly clearing his throat. “It’s, uh, nice to meet you, Mackenzie.”

  I glanced at Amy, Liz, and Ben, but they were all too preoccupied trying to play it cool in front of a female YouTube phenomenon to notice Houston’s starstruck behavior.

  The whole situation was seriously starting to weird me out.

  “Logan and I have been trying to help. But there’s really not a whole lot we can do from here.”

  I gritted my teeth as I faked another smile. “Thanks for making an effort, Mackenzie. You really didn’t need to do that. At all.”

  Logan met my eyes, and I knew that at least he realized that I wanted his girlfriend to back off. Too bad Mackenzie didn’t get the message.

  “Right . . . well, I’m glad Scott’s dad was able to pull some strings. Media attention can make all the difference. In fact, during the Spanish American War—” Mackenzie’s voice became increasingly animated as she warmed up to the subject.

  “Save it, professor.”

  I couldn’t take it anymore. I couldn’t spend another second watching Logan, Houston, Ben, and even Liz gaze admiringly at Mackenzie as if they wished she had been the one sent abroad instead of me.

  My laugh was brittle. “That came out wrong. Sorry, I meant to say that we’ve got to save our professor. Feel free to put that fascinating lecture on my tab with the rest of your tutoring sessions. Sound good, Mackenzie? Great. You take care, now!” Then I closed my laptop before anyone could protest.

  The room momentarily descended into silence.

  “That was real friendly of you, princess. Now I see why you’re so popular.”

  I would’ve stormed out, but I had nowhere else to go.

  Chapter 22

  None of them would shut up about meeting Mackenzie. Instead of focusing on stuff that actually mattered, like saving our teacher from wrongful imprisonment in a third-world country, they kept asking about Mackenzie’s sudden rise to fame. And they were pretty disappointed to hear that our interactions were limited to a handful of tutoring sessions that I’d crashed before she started dating my ex. End of story.

  They weren’t the only ones who thought I was holding back some details.

  Everyone at Smith High School believed that I’d been behind Mackenzie’s embarrassing moment hitting YouTube. I guess it made for a good story: Popular girl tries to humiliate geeky underdog by filming one seriously misguided attempt at CPR, only to have the whole thing backfire horribly when the video went viral. Too bad the entire story was a work of fiction.

  At the time, I’d been focused on patching things up with Logan.

  That’s what I had been trying to do anyway. Mackenzie wasn’t even on my radar until Logan turned me down because he was in love with her. And at that point I didn’t really care what anyone was saying about me. In fact, I kind of liked being cast as the Wicked Witch opposite Mackenzie’s socially awkward Snow White.

  If I couldn’t be wanted, at least I could be feared.

  “If you’re all done geeking out over Mackenzie Wellesley, can we please get back to work?”

  Houston grinned. “Jealous, Chelsea?”

  I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, I don’t want to waste my time talking about my ex-boyfriend’s girlfriend when I’ve got a Buddha full of heroin with me. Shocking, isn’t it?”

  My reference to the drugs snapped everyone’s attention back to the task at hand.

  “Shouldn’t we just, uh, wait for the press?” Amy asked tentatively. “If this drug guy is so insane, I vote we let the media take the story public. That way we can stay out of it.”

  She had a point. It did seem kind of foolish to get overly involved when help was on the way. But there was no reason we couldn’t do some of the groundwork to speed up the process.

  I shrugged. “I only want to do basic-level surveillance. Find out if Rithisak Sovann is even in the building. That kind of thing.”

  Liz’s expression was inscrutable. “Just surveillance?”

  Probably.

  “Of course.”

  “Then I’m in.”

  Ben opened his suitcase and started rifling through it. “Me too. I’ll go scope out the pool area. Make sure there are no bad guys hanging around.”

  Translation: I’m going to be flirting with girls in bikinis.

  Fine with me.

  “Okay. Ben takes the pool, Liz can check out the . . . gym?” Liz nodded in agreement. “Great. Amy stays here, and I’ll cover the bar,” I said.

  “Actually, I’ll watch the lobby,” Amy volunteered.

  “You sure?”

  Her smile was one of irrepressible enthusiasm. “I have my needlepoint. Plus I spotted a book exchange in the lobby and I think they might have some romance novels. Trust me, sitting there isn’t going to be a hardship.”

  Which just left
Houston.

  But, hey, if he didn’t want to help, that was up to him. He could even stay in the suite and chat some more with Mackenzie. It didn’t make a difference to me.

  No weird tension there.

  Houston stretched languidly. “Nice try, princess. You’re not legally allowed to drink. Which means you’ll be staying here while I go to the bar.”

  “Funny, I’m trying to recall asking for your permission, but . . .” I snapped my fingers. “Oh, that’s right! I didn’t.”

  “No time to fix that like the present.”

  I crossed my arms. “Look, if you think you can keep up with me, then you’re welcome to come along, cowboy.”

  “Oh, I can keep up, princess.”

  Amy pointedly cleared her throat, and I knew that she wanted to make a big deal out of the fact that Houston had chosen the bar with me over the peace and quiet of an empty hotel suite. Except Houston’s scowl wasn’t exactly the type of body language he should be sending if he actually wanted our scouting expedition to take a romantic turn.

  It should have left me totally unaffected.

  Instead, my pulse was picking up speed at the idea of sitting across from one seriously annoying college student at a bar.

  “You want me to join you guys?” Ben offered. “I could use a drink.”

  I shook my head. “No way. I don’t need one chaperone, let alone both of you guys, going all caveman on me. No need for any chest thumping here, okay? Trust me. I’ve got this.”

  Liz nodded supportively. “Chelsea can handle it. So let’s get out of her way and let her do her thing.”

  I nudged her with my shoulder. “Aw, thanks!”

  Liz smirked. “Yeah, well, it doesn’t take a psych major to figure out that you enjoy sticking your nose into other people’s business. But if you think your amateur sleuthing can help Neal, then I’m fine with it.” She turned to Amy. “You, on the other hand—no talking to strangers!”

  Amy rolled her eyes. “Just for the record, I’m the oldest person here!”

  Which totally proved my point about the irrelevance of the number on a driver’s license.

  Liz shook her head warily. “I stand by my earlier statement. No talking to strangers.”