I was in a flat-out sprint by the time I reached the front steps to the school, taking two with each stride to save time. There was no time to go to my locker once I entered the building, so I continued up to room 333 at a rapid pace. Just as the bell rang, I slid through the door, closing it behind me. I flashed Mr. Callahan a smile, then made my way to my seat.
The morning announcements echoed through the room while I pulled out whatever notebook I had with me. As long as it had paper in it, I was good to go. I could hear Garrett trying to get my attention from two rows over, but I waved him off, knowing that Callahan was likely waiting for me to do something wrong so he could send me out of the room. I think he regretted not sending me to the principal’s office during the school assembly.
Talk about an opportunity wasted.
Like a good little schoolgirl, I sat at attention all through class, even answering some of Callahan’s questions. He thought I wasn’t bright enough to make it in the world. I thought acing his class would make him look like the stupid one. I was on a mission.
Forty-five minutes later, the bell rang. Before I could even finish packing up my stuff, Garrett was at my side.
“What’s up with the goody-two-shoes routine?”
I shrugged and threw on my backpack. “I like physics?”
“You like making Callahan look bad.”
“Wrong. I love making him look bad.”
He laughed and shook his head as we walked out of the room.
* * *
Before I went to the cafeteria for lunch, I carelessly threw my morning books into my locker, slammed the door closed, and jumped when I found a face lurking behind it. AJ had always loved to scare me like that. The smile he wore as he leaned his head against the wall of lockers told me he still did.
“And my day just keeps getting better,” I said, turning to walk away from him.
“Ky! Wait!” He gently grabbed my elbow to keep me from leaving. “I just want to talk to you for a minute. That’s all.”
“You keep saying that, AJ, but these minutes are adding up. I’m going to start billing you for my time.”
“Great. Address is still the same. Send me an invoice whenever.”
He threw in a wink for good measure, then smiled. I felt my heart soften a bit at the sight. I needed to get out of there before it started to melt.
“What do you want, AJ? I’m hungry. I want to go eat before hungry turns to hangry.” I leaned in closer to him, whispering in a conspiratorial way. “You should want me to eat before that happens, too.”
“I’m well aware of what you’re like when your blood sugar drops. You think I forgot the picnic incident? I thought you were going to drown Garrett after he ate all the food.”
“I would have if he hadn’t been clinging to his paddleboard like a big baby.”
“He’s scared of you when you’re angry.”
“That’s because he’s smart,” I replied. “Smarter than you, apparently.”
“I don’t remember you dating me for my mind, Ky,” he said, leaning in closer to me. “Although, I’m pretty sure you told me once that my intelligence turned you on.” I stared at him in the hallway, paralyzed by the turn of our conversation. “So anyway, homecoming is this weekend.…”
Finally, my brain caught up.
“Your point?”
“You have a date yet?”
“Now why would I need a date when I have no intention of going?”
He frowned a little. “You should go, Ky.”
“I should do a lot of things, AJ, like walk away from this conversation before it takes a turn for the worse—as if that were possible—and yet here I am, my morbid curiosity not allowing that to happen.”
“Go with me.”
He stood there before me, his expression so earnest. For a brief second, he broke through my defenses and made me feel something for him. Whether it was pity for being blamed for a crime that Jaime said he couldn’t have committed, or guilt for assuming he had, I couldn’t tell, but I felt it all the same. It hurt to realize that I could have been wrong—that I’d turned on him without really giving him a chance. Emotions I didn’t want to feel welled up inside me and started to seep out.
Then I welded the breach closed and shut them down.
“AJ, that’s never going to happen,” I replied, my tone notably softer. “Whatever you’re trying to do—whatever game you’re playing—I’m not interested.”
“It’s not a game, Ky,” he said, looking as wounded as he sounded. “And if you think you can make me give up on you this easily, then you never knew me at all.”
“Okay, AJ. You say it’s not a game, then prove it.”
His expression brightened.
“How?”
“Tell me if you were paid off to change your story about what happened to me that night.”
He couldn’t have looked more horrified.
“What in the hell are you talking about? Like a bribe?”
“Did someone blackmail you into saying what you said?”
“Blackmail? Jesus, no. Why would you even ask that?” I studied him for a minute, looking for any signs he was lying. Not a single one was visible. “You don’t think I did it anymore, do you?” he asked, his horror slowly morphing into hope.
“I’m still not going to homecoming with you,” I said, evading his question.
“Oh, you’re going. You know I’m the most stubborn ass you’ll ever meet, besides you, of course.” He flashed me a mischievous grin that reminded me of so many good times we’d had together. But those times were gone. Right or wrong, things had changed.
“Then you know you might as well give up, because I’ll outlast you on this. I can guarantee that.”
“We’ll see,” he replied, still smiling. Then he looked past me at something down the hall and frowned. “I’ll see you around, Ky.”
With that, he turned and disappeared into the mob of people rushing to get to their next class.
“What did he want?” Garrett asked from behind me. I turned to answer him.
“He asked me to homecoming.”
Garrett literally stopped dead in the middle of the hallway, causing some poor freshman boy to bounce off of his back then fall to the floor. It was comical, unlike the look on Garrett’s face. I couldn’t quite tell if he was contemplating AJ’s mental state or mine, since I was so blasé about the whole thing. My money would have been on the latter, but I had been known to be wrong on the rare occasion.
Tabby came bounding up to us, smiling from ear to ear until she saw Garrett, apparently frozen in his speechless stupor.
“What’s wrong with him? He looks like he’s having a stroke or something.”
“Give him a sec. He still might.”
“Tell me you said no,” Garrett said. “I don’t care what Jaime told you. I still don’t trust any of them.”
“Garrett … I haven’t completely taken leave of my senses. I might be blonde, but I don’t suffer from the stereotypical deficits.”
“Wait! Is that really your natural color?” Tabby asked, confusion in her tone. I turned my head slowly to look at her. “Oh. It is.” She had the good form to at least look apologetic. “It suits you.”
Without replying, I returned my attention to Garrett.
“To be clear, yes, this is my natural hair color, and, no, I did not agree to go with him. What Jaime said may or may not change things, but that chapter of my life is shut. I have zero intention of reopening it,” I said. His expression sobered. “And just like that, I’ve killed the mood yet again. Why don’t they have a class for that in high school? I’d nail the crap out of that one.…”
“I’m going to go grab some lunch. Do you want me to get something for you guys?” Tabby asked. “You look like you need a minute.”
“That’d be great, Tabs. Thanks.”
She smiled and gave us a quick nod before making her way into the cafeteria, leaving Garrett and me alone.
“Sorry, Ky,” G
arrett said, turning to me. “I just … the AJ thing really threw me for a loop. I think I’m a bit on edge these days with everything going on.”
“That, my friend, makes two of us.” I flashed a grin at him that earned me one in return. He threw his arm around my shoulders and walked us into the cafeteria. Our presence together seemed to cause a scene. I was becoming convinced that was exactly why Garrett did it.
“So, are you going to go to the dance at all then?” he asked.
“Um, no.”
“Why not?”
“Because!”
“Because why?”
“Reasons.”
“Like?”
“All the obvious ones.”
Garrett laughed.“I think you should go.”
“Seriously, I think you’re losing it, Garrett.”
“Hear me out, would ya?” He pushed open the door to the patio eating area and let me walk through before him. “It would make a statement if you went—your middle finger to everyone here. The whole town for that matter.”
“Yes, I can totally see how me in a cocktail dress and heels says ‘fight the power.’”
“Those would just show everyone how fabulous you are. Your presence there is what matters. It says you don’t care.”
“So does me not going.”
“But not in the same way. Think about it: if we walk in together—two of the most once-popular kids in this school—it says we don’t play by their rules.”
“Wait, was that your attempt at asking me to go?”
He shrugged. “I figured that was a given.”
“Wow … that level of hubris is impressive, Garrett Higgins.”
“Relax, Ky. I thought we could get Tabby to go, too. God knows she’s stuck with us for good now.”
Our collective gaze fell upon our gawky friend in the lunch line, swallowed up by the commotion around her. With us, she’d found her place. Alone, she still floundered.
“Garrett,” I said, leveling my gaze on him as he sat down across from me at the table. “She hangs out with us. Her social-climbing days are over.”
“Fair point, and all the more reason to bring her along.”
“Bring who where?” Tabby asked, setting a tray of assorted lunchroom items down in front of us.
“You to homecoming.”
Tabby looked at Garrett like he’d spoken a foreign language.
“What’s that?”
“The foreigner comes from a strange, faraway place that doesn’t worship football like we do. This will require explanation,” I said, pulling a bag of chips off the tray. “It’s a dance. A formal dance where girls get all gussied up in dresses and boys spend all night trying to figure out how to get them out of those gowns.”
“Oh! The homecoming dance. Got it. Sounds super fun. Are you two going?”
“Yep. And you’re coming with us,” I replied.
Tabby clapped her hands as she bounced up and down in her seat. Apparently, homecoming was right up her alley.
“When is it?”
“Have you not seen the gazillion posters in the hallway about it?” I did nothing to hide my disbelief.
“I didn’t notice them,” she said plainly.
“Really? They haunt my dreams.…”
“It’s this Saturday,” Garrett said. “Starts at seven.”
Tabby’s elation fell flat in an instant. “I’m out of town. We won’t be back until at least seven thirty.”
“So you can meet us there. It’ll be fine,” he told her, trying to cheer her up.
Her smile returned. “I’ll check with my parents, but I’m sure they’ll be okay with it, especially since it’s not a date.”
“Definitely not a date,” I said, popping a chip into my mouth and munching it loudly. “I’m not into threesomes.”
“Dream killer,” Garrett muttered to himself before his facade of disappointment fell and he laughed.
“That’s me, kids: Crusher of Souls. Purveyor of Disappointment.”
“You probably kick puppies, too,” Tabby added with a giggle.
“And punch babies,” Garrett added.
“No way. I love puppies,” I said with a wink.
We all laughed, drawing attention to ourselves. That seemed to be our lunchtime MO. And I didn’t care one bit. I loved how I felt when I was around those two. How they both challenged me to see the value in things I balked at. Maybe homecoming wasn’t my thing anymore, but maybe it wasn’t going to be the torture I assumed it would. Either way, one thing was for sure. The three of us were about to make homecoming a lot more interesting.
THIRTY
I walked through the law office entrance to be greeted by an empty front desk. Marcy must have been in the back room, so I rushed there to help her out. As I walked down the hall, I heard an angry male voice. Luke’s office door was opened slightly, and I could see a hand still holding the knob through the small opening. The displeasure in the owner’s voice was plain.
“No, I don’t think you heard me correctly. You will have it by next week without excuses, understand? If you think for one second that you’re going to tie me up with your bullshit, you’ve got another think coming.”
Luke emerged from his office, cell phone pressed to his ear as he stormed toward the front desk. He was enraged, judging by the flush in his face, but, like a pro, he managed to keep that from his tone. The sight of him was intimidating. If I was in trouble, I’d have wanted him as my attorney.
“Just make sure that it happens. No excuses.”
He hung up on whoever was on the line and tucked his phone in his pocket.
“Remind me not to get on your bad side,” I told him, braving a small smile. It earned me one in return.
“Sorry about that,” he said, sounding much more himself. “Being a defense attorney isn’t very glamorous.”
“Or stress-free by the sound of it.”
“Not at all.”
“Oh, good! You’re here,” Meg called out from the far end of the hall. “Come on back.” She waved for me to follow her.
“Secret meeting?” Luke asked.
“Yes, but I’m afraid you have to know the handshake to get in, so…” Then I shrugged at him and he laughed.
“Have fun,” he said as he walked out front.
I laughed as I entered Meg’s office, taking a seat across from her.
“Okay, here’s the short of it,” she said, propping her elbows on the desk. “There were some partial fingerprints on those photos you gave me, Ky, but the owner isn’t in the system. He—or she—is clean.”
“Not helpful.”
“No. But, what is helpful is that those prints are the same as the ones we were able to pull from the brick you withheld from the sheriff. The one telling you to leave town.”
Holy. Shit.
“Wait—you’re saying those events are related then?” My Donovan theory was officially dead. Or was it? “I was sure Donovan Shipman had thrown that brick through Gramps’ window. Can we get him printed?”
Meg gave me a sympathetic look.
“I’m way ahead of you, kiddo. His prints were on file from the photo incident—to see who’d touched AJ’s phone. It’s not him.”
“Okay … I guess that’s comforting in one regard.”
“The threats can’t be coming from any of those boys. They were all fingerprinted when they were brought in for questioning two years ago,” she added. “I don’t think the threats you’ve received are related to that case. At least not directly.”
“Maybe there will a different set on the photo left at my house last night while I was out.” I dropped an envelope containing the photo on her desk. “Open it later,” I said. She gave me an understanding nod.
“Got it. I will. I’ll have my guy test it, too. Maybe we’ll get lucky with this one.” She tucked the envelope in a desk drawer. “In the meantime, can you think of anyone else that would want to leverage you out of town?”
About a hundred names flashed
through my mind.
“Too many to count.”
“Think, Kylene,” Meg urged. “Anyone who pops into your head?”
“No. Not outside of The Six.”
“That’s okay. We’ll keep digging. In the meantime, why don’t you get to work? Poor Marcy could really use your help today.”
“Consider it done,” I said, heading for the door. “Maybe I can help Luke out, too. He seems a bit stressed.…”
“That’s the life of a defense attorney,” Meg replied with a laugh. “Never a dull moment.”
THIRTY-ONE
From the moment I walked into JHS the next morning until the time I left, nothing went wrong. Mr. Callahan wasn’t a complete prick. I didn’t hear anyone talking crap about me when they thought I couldn’t hear them. And lunch was actually identifiable. This is what high school should be like, I thought to myself.
Maybe one day, it would be.
After school, I tried my best to weave through the parking lot to avoid Donovan, Scooter, and Mark, who stood next to their vehicles in the back row. Unfortunately, there was a lack of SUVs and pickups to hide behind, which left me in clear view. With a deep breath, I made my way to my car—one row in front of where they stood. Their laughter echoed through the parking lot. I was pretty certain it had to do with me.
“Hey, Danners! Scooter was just telling us about you and Jaime,” Donovan shouted, pushing off his truck to walk toward me. “Gotta give it to you; I didn’t see that one coming.”
“I’m sneaky like that,” I said, continuing to my car. I could hear Striker and Meg—even Dawson—in my mind, telling me to back off. To lay low. For once, I really wanted to follow their advice.
But I just couldn’t.
“You’d like to think so, wouldn’t you?” he asked, sounding haughty.
“We know what you and Jaime were talking about that night,” Scooter said, his tall-but-toned frame headed my way.
“Do you, now? Because, let’s be honest here, Scooter. Your ability to accurately recall events is directly related to how badly you want to impress the guys—or save your own ass. So I’m not really sure you heard anything at all.”
Dare You to Lie Page 22
