by Elle Thorpe
She nodded hard.
I riffled through my purse and produced a packet of antihistamines. “Here. I still have these from last spring.”
“Thank you.” She took them from my outstretched hand and busied herself with the foil backing, popping two tablets free. She threw them into her mouth and took a large swallow from her glass of water. “Okay, so did you get all the names of the football team?”
I found the printed version of the photo I’d taken during the week and put it on the table. “Here. Now are you going to tell me how exactly you plan to stalk them? There’s two of us and a whole team full of them. Plus, I don’t know any of their addresses. Except for Tate.” I point a finger at Tate’s handsome face in the back row of the photo. “I was at his place last night.”
Meredith glanced up. “Excuse me now?”
I rolled my eyes. “For the party. Remember? It was at his place. Lots of other people there. It wasn’t a party for two.” I didn’t mention the party for two Banjo and I had in his brother’s car. Heat crept into my cheeks at the mere thought of what we’d done on that back seat. I clenched my thighs together.
I should have known better than to think I could get anything past Meredith. Her sharp gaze caught mine and held me pinned.
A smile tipped up the corner of my mouth. I couldn’t help it.
“Spill it! What happened at that party last night? Something hot and dirty if that smile is anything to go by.”
“You’re like a bloodhound, you know that? Perhaps I should have sent you to Saint View High. You can sniff out a secret like no one else.”
Meredith seemed quite proud of that. “I can sniff out a sex secret, sure. I don’t know about a murder secret. But that’s beside the point right now. Who did you do the nasty with? And was it nasty? I don’t know about those boys from Saint View, Lace. They look kind of…brutal.”
“Brutally hot?”
She shrugged. “If the ‘just out of prison’ vibe is your thing, then yeah, sure, I guess?”
I giggled. “Well, it’s not my thing. And the guy I did the nasty with was someone you sort of know. And just for the record, there was nothing nasty about it.”
Meredith’s eyebrows furrowed, but then realization widened her eyes. “The hottie from last weekend?”
I nodded.
“Oh, you dirty ho bag. Tell me everything.”
I shook my head. “There’s honestly not that much to say. Other than he’s got some talented fingers.”
“Just his fingers?”
“Trust me, that was enough to do the job.”
“Where? At the party?”
“Back of his car.”
Meredith snorted on a laugh. “Oh, if that isn’t so Saint View High!”
“Please,” I scoffed. “Like you didn’t go all the way in the back seat of Scott Amerson’s car after junior prom.”
Meredith laughed. “It wasn’t all the way. Just…”
“Third base?” I supplied helpfully. “Well, same. So you’re as big a ho bag as I am.”
“And that’s why we’re friends.”
Relief settled over me. This was the Meredith I knew and loved. I hated seeing her upset. Or, as she put it, with allergies. But I wasn’t going to push her to talk about whatever it was. She’d tell me when she was ready to talk. That’s what best friends did, and Meredith and I had been best friends since the second day of our freshman year.
I tapped my fingers on the table, ready to get this conversation back on track. “Okay, so first things first. Do we have food coming?”
“I ordered you the pancakes you always like.”
“Side of bacon?”
“Of course. I wouldn’t be much of a best friend if I didn’t know your order now, would I?”
“Gold star for you. Now, earn yourself another one and tell me what we’re doing about these guys?” I nudged the crumpled piece of paper across the table to her.
“Aha.” She picked up the photo and squinted at the names. Then picked up her phone.
“You got a crew of private investigators on speed dial?”
“Nope. Better. I’ve got Instagram. Scoot your chair over here.”
I did, so I could see over her shoulder.
She touched the app to open it and brought up the search bar. “Let’s start with your party host from last night, shall we? Tate…Masters.”
She typed in the name. “Bingo.” She tapped on the profile pic of Tate in his football uniform. His profile loaded instantly.
“Hello, hottie!” Meredith elbowed me. “Okay, as soon as we clear this guy from your list of suspects, I want an introduction.”
“I thought the boys at Saint View were too ‘just out of prison’ for your liking.”
“Yeah, well, that was before I saw Tate’s abs. Damn. Who knew it was possible to have more than a six-pack?” She opened up a photo Tate had posted over the summer and zoomed in. It was one of those photos that was supposed to look all natural. Yet it somehow showed off Tate’s abs and the definition in his arms, while he not so casually threw a Frisbee on the beach. Totally posed if you asked me. Which Meredith should know, since she was the queen of the posed Instagram photos.
“Concentrate for a second here, okay?” I complained.
“Right. What date was the fire again?”
“Sunday the twenty-second.”
“Okay, well, let’s just see what Tate was doing that day, shall we?” She scrolled down slowly, checking the dates on each picture.
“Boy posts too many photos of himself,” I muttered when we had to scroll quite far down to find a date from just a few weeks earlier.
“Yeah, but that’s good for us. Because now we know exactly where he was at the time of the fire. See?” She thrust the phone into my hands.
“He was at a bonfire at the beach.” The photo appeared to have been taken around dusk, the sky pinks and oranges behind Tate and another guy I vaguely recognized. Both stood with their arms around each other, hair dripping from the surf, a bonfire already lit behind them. “This could have been taken days or weeks before and just posted late.”
“True,” Meredith said. “But this guy he’s with…”
“I think it’s Nathaniel Lyons.” I pointed him out on the football team photo.
“Let’s see what he posted that day… Tate was kind enough to tag him for us and everything.” Meredith switched to Nathaniel’s profile. It was just as jam-packed with shirtless boy photos as Tate’s was.
“Don’t these people have any concept of a private account?” I asked.
Meredith scoffed. “Lacey, I know you don’t really get Instagram, since you have all of three photos on your profile and they’re from when we were fifteen, but nobody has a private profile. How would you end up with thousands of followers? How would you judge your own popularity? How would you have potential hookups sliding into your DMs? Speaking of which, I might just slide into Nathaniel’s…is the entire football team this hot? I’m reconsidering my school choices right now.”
“Stop it. Find the twenty-second and see what he posted.”
Meredith did as told with a pout. I had no doubt she’d be in Nathaniel or Tate’s DMs before the day was out.
“Oh, bingo. A group photo. This wasn’t just a couple of friends hanging out at the beach. This was a party.”
I zoomed in on the photo. “Not just any party. A football party. Give me a pen.”
Meredith pulled a pen from her purse and handed it to me. I put the phone down on the table. “Okay, I’m crossing out Tate and Nathaniel. And that’s Jerome.” I tapped the pen against the screen. “Thomas, Wiley, Jordan…” The list rolled on.
Our food arrived, but neither of us did more than take a solitary bite. We were both too engrossed in searching through all the names of the kids who were tagged, looking at their photos of that night.
“Bet it was a good party,” Meredith mused. “They’re all so happy.”
They were. The fifteen or so accounts
we checked told the complete story of that night. From the girls getting ready, to a barbecue on the beach, but the ones I was most interested in were the ones after the sunset. A roaring bonfire featured in many of the photos. Couples kissing. Guys with their arms around each other, grins ear to ear. I felt a twinge of jealousy. These kids might not have had fancy cars or expensive houses, but they had true friendships. It made me think about what Banjo had said about him and Colt being more like brothers than friends.
I peered down at the photo of the football team. I’d crossed out three-quarters of the players. But there were two players I recognized instantly, who still remained unaccounted for.
“Banjo isn’t in any of these photos,” Meredith said.
“And there’s nothing posted on his account that day. Nothing on Rafe’s either.”
Meredith locked her phone and put it facedown on the table. “They’re still on the list of suspects then.”
I sighed. “I guess so.”
I didn’t like how that realization felt.
14
Lacey
My history class seemed designed to send me to sleep. I’d spent the previous forty minutes doodling in the margins of my page, while Mr. Sliden droned on and on about trench warfare. I’d started out drawing random shapes, which had morphed into flowers, and then abruptly shut my folder when I realized I’d doodled Banjo’s name. I hadn’t seen him yet today. Hadn’t heard from him at all since the night of the party. It was an odd feeling, walking around on eggshells this morning, wondering if I’d run into him. I was a little more at ease this week, in clothes that didn’t immediately tell everyone around me I didn’t belong. And now that I knew where all my classes were, I didn’t feel quite so lost.
A knock at the door five minutes before the end of class stopped Mr. Sliden’s rant about the Nazis. A young-looking redheaded girl stood in the doorway, staring right at me. I frowned.
“Yes?” Sliden asked her, impatience rolling off him like this girl was seriously killing his mojo. The teach was really into Hitler’s life story, apparently.
“Principal Simmons wants to see Lacey Knight in his office immediately.”
A chorus of “oooohhhs” rang out around me. Someone muttered something about the new girl being in trouble already.
What on earth did I do?
“Okay, okay. That’s enough. Lacey, off you go. The rest of you, get back to work.”
I stood slowly, gathering my things, dread rising in my gut. I hadn’t done anything wrong, that I knew of. I’d stuck to all the rules. Sure, I’d been late to a class or two, but that was only because I’d gotten lost. Surely Principal Simmons wouldn’t hold that against me.
I met the girl at the door and followed her down an empty corridor. “Do you know what this is about?” I asked her, but she simply shook her head and kept on walking, her head down, obviously avoiding further conversation.
The classrooms we passed all had their doors open, and I caught snatches of lessons. A few curious eyes diverted in our direction, but I ignored them. Until one familiar set made my steps falter. I tripped on nothing but thin air, stumbling a little, but unable to take my eyes off Colt. He sat back in his seat, folding his arms across his muscled chest, a satisfied expression on his face.
A sudden thought occurred to me. Colt had said he was going to get rid of me. Was that what this was? I narrowed my eyes at him, but he just did that annoying half smirk that had my fingers itching to slap him.
“Are you okay?” the girl beside me asked.
“What?” I said, snapping out of my Colt trance. I shook my head. “Yeah, sure. I’m fine.”
“Can we keep walking, then? Principal Simmons is waiting.”
I hadn’t even realized I’d come to a dead stop. Shit. No wonder Colt was smirking at me. I’d just given him pure proof that one look from him was enough to stop me in my tracks.
For fuck’s sake. Rookie mistake in a game of cat and mouse. I’d just given him the upper hand.
Vowing not to do that again, I nodded to my young escort, and we made it to the office without any further instances of me losing my head over a guy who hated my guts.
“What are you doing here?” Rafe snapped as soon as we entered the administration office.
I might have spoken too soon. I’d found the only other ridiculously hot guy who hated my guts. Lucky me. “Well, hi to you, too. Thanks so much for the warm greeting.”
He scowled. “Fine. Hi, Lacey. What are you doing here? Better?” His voice dripped with sarcasm.
“Your father wanted to see me.”
“Yeah, well, me, too. So get in line.”
Figuring the seat beside him was the line, I sat down.
He stiffened. “There’s a whole row of seats right here, and you take the one closest to me?”
“That bother you?” I asked.
“In more ways than I care to explain.”
I wasn’t sure if he meant that in a good way or a bad way. So I just ignored it. I had a chance to talk to him alone, away from Colt, away from parties. He seemed sober today, too. If Principal Simmons just stayed in his office for a few more minutes, I might be able to get some information out of him.
“Some party the other night, huh?” I asked.
“Same as all the others.”
“You go to all the football parties then?”
Rafe nodded. “Sure. Everyone does.”
“What about the bonfire at the beach a few weeks ago?”
Rafe twisted so we were facing each other. “How do you even know about that? You weren’t a student here then.”
I shrugged, trying to play it cool. “I heard about it from some other people. Apparently, it was the party of the summer.”
Rafe shrugged. “I wouldn’t know. Didn’t go.”
“You didn’t go to the party of the summer? How come?”
“I had other things to do. Are you always this nosy?”
I twisted back to face the office door. “Just trying to be friendly.”
Rafe ran a hand through his hair, then dropped it onto his lap. “I wish you wouldn’t.”
“Wouldn’t be friendly?”
“Yeah.”
“You’d prefer me to be…what? Rude? Ignore you completely?”
“Maybe.”
“You some sort of masochist? You get off on people being mean to you?”
He cracked a smile, and I couldn’t help smiling back. He was awfully cute. His teeth were so perfectly straight and white, his lips soft-looking.
“No, Lacey. It would just make my life easier if you were a bitch.”
Understanding dawned on me. “Because of the target Colt and Gillian have drawn on my back?”
“Something like that.”
I shook my head. “I kind of thought you were too smart for their bullshit. Guess I was wrong.”
“Lacey…”
The office door opened, and Principal Simmons stuck his head out. Despite the fact Rafe had been there first, I shot out of my seat and stepped toward the older man. “You wanted to see me, sir?”
He peered past me to his son. “I wanted to see both of you actually. Together. Come on in.”
He pushed the door open, and I took a seat opposite his desk. Rafe sat beside me. We both put our arms on the armrest at the same time. A spark of energy crackled over my skin when it made contact with his. His head snapped in my direction, and I snatched my arm back.
Rafe didn’t say anything. But judging from the way I could see him staring at me from the corner of my eye, he’d felt something, too.
Principal Simmons steepled his hands together, his elbows resting on the desk. He smiled brightly, his gaze flicking between the two of us. “So. How are you settling in, Lacey? Rafe has been a good tour guide, I hope?”
I fought back a snort of derision. Rafe had done nothing but give me a tour of his preferred smoking spot and then told me off for going to a party he and Colt didn’t want me at. Other than that, he’d completel
y left me to wander the school alone. If Jagger hadn’t adopted me, I’d probably still be searching for my first class.
Rafe shot a worried look at me. Which was a little insulting. Did he really think I was going to rat him out to his father? I could be the bigger person. “He’s been a great host. Very…accommodating.”
Principal Simmons’ smile widened, and I wondered why he even cared. He was genuinely thrilled by what I’d said. “Wonderful. I’m so happy the two of you are getting along well.” He pulled a manila folder from his in tray and opened it. He produced two sheets of paper and passed them across the desk to us.
“What’s this?” Rafe asked, sounding bored.
I glanced down at the piece of paper. “Donor dinner speech? What’s that?”
Rafe groaned, and Principal Simmons glowered.
Rafe pulled his shoulders back and sat a little straighter, but he still didn’t look happy about it.
Principal Simmons addressed his comments to me, since Rafe obviously already knew all about whatever a donor dinner speech was. “The donor dinner is an annual event, held at the beginning of every school year. You’re probably aware that schools like Saint View don’t require our students to pay a fee to attend. We, of course, get some government funding, but if we want our students to have all the opportunities kids from other schools have, we have to fundraise. This dinner is our major source of yearly funding.”
“And each year, he forces me to get up on stage, dressed in a uniform that nobody here even wears, and beg a bunch of rich snobs for their money.” Rafe made no effort to hide his disgust.
I frowned at the ‘rich snob’ part. “Not everyone with money is a snob, you know.”
Rafe snorted like the notion was ridiculous. It somehow felt personal. Even though he hadn’t said my name directly, he knew the school I’d come from. He’d seen my car, and I’d bet Banjo had told him about my house. He was talking about me when he talked about rich snobs.
“Of course not,” Principal Simmons said after shooting a glare in Rafe’s direction. “Which is why I’d like the two of you to do the speech from the students. You might know some of the donors perhaps, Lacey. And we’ve invited your aunt.”
