by Ruby Vincent
She lifted a brow. “Alone?”
“No. My boyfriend was with me.”
“I see.”
“We didn’t break any rules. We’re allowed outside until the doors lock and we didn’t go into the gyms. How else are we supposed to spend time together?”
“I didn’t say anything.” Welsh stepped to the side. “Go on, Miss Manning. Straight to your room.”
“Yes, Ms. Welsh.”
Melody was sitting up in bed reading when I came in.
“There you are.” She set her book down and patted the spot next to her. She treated me to a surprisingly tight hug.
“Is everything okay?” I asked.
“I know you don’t have to tell me where you go, but can I admit I’m a little freaked out? There’s a guy with a knife running around campus.”
I hugged her back. “I’m sorry. I should have checked in. Of course you’re freaked out. We all are—or most of us are. All the other girls seem to care about is their Christmas break trip.”
“Ugh. It’s senior year and they refuse to let anyone ruin it. I’ll pay for the stupid trip myself if it gets everyone to talk about what’s important again.”
“I’m with you there.”
She let me go. “I was so excited about my last year with Adam and now I can’t wait to get out of here. Let’s just double-lock the doors and get some sleep.”
I pushed our desk chairs in front of the door to make her feel better.
The next morning, I woke before my alarm. My internal clock rang with Derek time. I showered quickly and donned my uniform.
“Bye, Mel,” I whispered at the lump stirring beneath the sheets.
I grabbed my phone and it vibrated.
Derek: I can’t meet you this morning. I’m sorry. I love you. See you tonight.
My heart sank. Tonight? Does that mean he’s not coming to breakfast?
I typed out the question. Derek didn’t reply. My phone was a silent brick in my pocket on the way down to the cafeteria. I searched for him immediately, but Derek was nowhere to be seen. A second sweep revealed Michael, Cole, and Landon were missing too.
I got my breakfast and then rolled up next to Hunter. He bent over the table, ignoring his food, and scribbled in his sketchpad.
“Hey, mentee. Have you seen the guys?”
He beamed at me. “Morning, Zee. Your timing is great. I just finished this.”
“Finished what?”
“I didn’t let you have the first one. This will make up for it.”
Hunter tore out the page and handed it to me.
“Goodness, Hunter.” Pleasing, awed surprise tugged a smile to my lips. “This is amazing.”
The sketch was of Derek and me the way we used to be. Propped against his pillows, we were in mid-conversation—or argument—from my exasperated expression. A book dangled from Derek’s fingertips and a smirk on his mouth. The drawing was even more special because it was me next to Derek. Zela, not Zeke.
“You’re incredibly talented, Hunter,” I said. “All the little details you drew from the part in my hair to the stripe on my socks. Do you think you’ll pursue art?”
He shook his head. “It’s just a hobby. I used to draw pictures for my mom to make her smile. I got better so she wouldn’t have to fake it over my stick figures.”
I laughed. “Well, you made me smile too, and I needed it. I’m making this my background.” I snapped a pic with my phone to prove it. “So have you seen Derek or the guys? I’m worried something is up.”
Hunter’s ever-present smile twitched at the corners. “Something is up, Zee.” He leaned in, lowering his voice. “With the Network. Derek’s been saying everything is fine, but I got this weird text this morning.”
Hunter pulled out his phone and handed it over.
TM: Member meeting. Strongly advised all attend. If unable, your leader will relay details. Location, date, and dress code to come.
“Why is this weird?” I asked.
“We don’t have member meetings. Ever. Having one in the middle of this shit storm doesn’t fill me with confidence.”
“Who is TM?”
“Top member.”
“As in the highest member of the Network?”
He nodded.
Jonathan Grayson.
“The leader of the Network suddenly calls a mandatory meeting,” I mused aloud. “I agree. Something is up. What do you think—”
Hunter’s gaze flicked over my head. “Hold on. Whittaker is here.”
No sooner had the words left his mouth than the principal’s voice rang out.
“Attention, students. Quiet down. I have an update in regards to the latest attack against the school.”
A hush fell over the room as though a switch had been flipped. Whittaker took his place at the front of the head table. Behind him, a solemn troop of teachers, two guidance counselors, and a vice principal formed a line behind him.
“First, I’d like to assure you all that there is no reason to panic. We are committed to keeping you safe, and measures have and will be taken in the aftermath of the destruction. With that said, the search did not turn up the culprit.”
Whispers broke out.
“At this point,” Whittaker continued, “we’re turning the matter over to the police. They will maintain a presence on campus from this point forward.”
Principal Whittaker swept out his hand. We collectively swiveled around and I laid eyes on none other than Detective Langman.
Playing high school security guard can’t be detective work whether For All has a knife or not.
“Do your best to cooperate with them,” said Whittaker. “The self-named For All’s terrorizing against this school ends now.”
Chatter filled the room as Whittaker took his seat. I read “For All” and “police” on everyone’s lips.
“It’s horrible what’s going on,” Hunter said. “Cameron murdered and every day we wake up to a new surprise form For All. I’m shocked parents haven’t pulled their kids out of here.”
“Trust me, my mom is ready and willing to send me to Chesterfield High. If this keeps up, I won’t be able to stop her.” I nudged him. “Are your folks threatening to pull you out?”
“My place isn’t close by. I don’t want to leave my friends either but, like you said, I may not have a choice.”
“Hey, guys.”
Justin, Owen, Tanner, and Nico strolled up with their trays.
“Why is the head table filled up?” asked Tanner. “What did we miss?”
I sat back, letting Hunter explain. My mind was busy with the implications of Whittaker’s announcement. The hunt for For All was heating up. Detective Langman was here.
But is he looking for our mysterious attacker or is he looking for Cameron’s killer? Or third possibility, is he looking at me?
I hadn’t heard from him since Mom shut him down at the station. She made him direct all further questions to our lawyer who dances on a pedestal of alibis, lack of evidence, and no witnesses. It’s possible I was still his number one suspect.
In all of this time, he must have found something that pointed him to the real killer. His suspect pool was limited to the people on campus that weekend. It couldn’t be that hard to narrow it down to the people who had a grudge against him.
“—give him what he wants. Would it be the fucking end of the world if Breakbattle was like every other high school in the world?”
Tanner pierced through my thoughts.
“The battle system sucks,” he hissed. “We all know it and we’d say it if Whittaker didn’t come down on students who do. For All has to do this cloak-and-dagger shit because he’d be ignored like the rest of us if he said it to their faces.”
“We don’t have to be quiet,” Melody replied. I hadn’t noticed her arrive. “Zela and I have come up with a bunch of protest ideas. We can get the media involved, organize sit-ins, pass around petitions. People were too scared to get active in Stand Up before, but we’re seniors now. We’ve
got our college acceptances and we can’t be punished for exercising our rights.”
“We can be punished,” Tanner argued. “Whittaker basically shut us down after the basketball game.”
“So, we don’t let him this time. If you feel this strongly, Tanner, do something about it. Something that will get our cause the right kind of attention.”
Electricity charged the air as their gaze locked across the table.
The bell rang.
I left them to it. Crossing the cafeteria, I considered how much trouble I’d get in if I stormed the boys’ campus looking for the guys.
“Watch it!”
A hard shove almost propelled me into the doorframe.
“How did you become Elite when you can’t manage walking?” Zach spat.
I straightened and leveled them with a glare I wish would pop their heads. I was sick of their petty bullshit. Serious problems were plaguing the school. When was Zach going to grow up?
“Easy,” I said through gritted teeth. “I beat your cheating ass.”
Shannon couldn’t help a parting shot. “Stupid bitch.”
“That wasn’t nice.”
The dry voice killed any thought of a reply. I held still as Langman stepped in front of me.
“Sweet couple.”
I scoffed. “Lord willing, they never spawn. I hope you noticed I was well within my rights to stomp them into the floor, but I didn’t because I’m a pacifist.”
A ghost of a grin crossed his face. “I think you need to be advised of rights again. Stomping people into the floor is not on the list.”
“Neither is being late to class. See you around, Detective.”
I made to go around him.
“Sooner than you think.” Langman smoothly blocked my way. “We’ve come to interview the students. Congratulations, you’re the first one.”
“I don’t know who For All is.”
He swept out his hand. “Please, follow me.”
“My mom says I’m not allowed to speak to you without our lawyer.”
“We can wait for your lawyer to arrive. It’s entirely up to you, Miss Manning.”
I reached for my phone.
Wait. Maybe I shouldn’t. He just wants to speak to me about For All and that will be a short conversation. I can get this over with and get on with my day.
“Fine.”
“Wonderful. Your principal granted us your library for the interviews.”
The two of us walked lockstep through the main building. Out of the corner of my eye, I picked up on the side glances Langman threw me.
He’s wondering how this thin young woman killed the great Cameron Dupre. Answer: I didn’t.
Ever the gentleman, Langman held open the door for me to go inside. I went over to the tables in the back and sat without prompting.
“Thank you for speaking with me, Miss Manning.” Langman sat on the opposite end and smiled at me. His smile was charming enough to be disarming. I bet he teased a few confessions out on his affable nature alone. “Why don’t we jump right in?”
“I’d like that.”
Langman pulled out the notebook I knew well. “Where were you between nine p.m. and six a.m. Sunday night?”
“I was in my dorm room. One good thing about being the odd girl is my roommate can vouch for me.”
“I’m sure she will.” Langman wrote something down. “Do you have any idea who For All is or why they’re carrying out these attacks?”
“I’m pretty sure For All is a guy and my boyfriend pointed out that he must be a junior or senior by now. Other than that, I don’t know. As for the why,” I continued, “he’s been extremely clear. He wants the battle system done away with.”
“Why do you believe they’re a junior or senior boy?”
I walked him through my reasoning.
“How can he be a junior if this began in your freshman year?”
“Hmm. You know more about this than I thought.”
“You didn’t think I’d do my homework?”
“He could be a junior because the new For All started up when we were sophomores.”
“New For All,” Langman said without skipping a beat. “And the old one you accused of being Cameron Dupre.”
I stiffened. I walked right into that. “Yes.”
“How did you know Mr. Dupre was behind the sabotage against the Elite boys?”
“He admitted it to my face.”
“And what made you so sure he wasn’t behind the incidents in your second year?”
“He had nothing to gain from driving us out of our rooms with a stink bomb or giving us our tablets. Someone else took over, and like you saw in the video, Cameron didn’t know who they were.”
The faint scritchings of his pen seemed louder in the empty library.
“Around the time of the incidents, did you see anything or anyone that seemed out of place?”
I shook my head. “And I wouldn’t have if he’s in another class or grade. They keep us separated.”
“Alright, Miss Manning.” He flipped the notepad over. “Anything else you want to tell me?”
“Only that I don’t believe he’ll stop until he gets what he wants. The battle system should end. Breakbattle can have advanced classes like normal schools do, but they don’t have to take it this far. For All is right to hate it. It’s already taken the life of one girl.”
Langman’s brows snapped together. “Taken the life of a girl? Who are you referring to?”
“Rebecca Taylor. Don’t you remember? The girl who committed suicide years ago because the boys drove her to the edge with nonstop battles.”
He looked at me blankly.
“She’s the reason the campuses were split.”
“I’m afraid I don’t know the school’s history very well,” he admitted. “I moved to Chesterfield recently. I am sorry to hear that though.”
“They should have scrapped the system as a disastrous experiment then.”
“The argument could be made, yes, but it doesn’t excuse what For All has done. The school intends to press charges for the damage to property.”
“It’s not the way I would have done it.” I leaned back, folding my arms. “Better to exploit the weaknesses of the system and let it fall apart on its own. You never get your hands dirty.”
Langman gave me a long look.
“What?” A smirk twitched at the corner of my lips. “Pacifist, remember? I don’t get physical with people, places, or things. I agree with his goal, but how he’s going about it doesn’t make sense. I don’t like that he’s not smart enough to see that. It worries me what he’ll do next.”
“He won’t do anything next. The CPD is taking over and two officers will be posted here. We’ll find For All.”
Like you found Cameron’s killer, went unsaid.
Langman’s expression changed. “Miss Manning, about Cameron Dupre...”
Unease tickled my spine. Did the guy read minds?
I rose to leave. “I can’t talk to you about Cameron.”
“Then don’t talk. Just listen.”
I paused hovered over the chair.
“I will be honest with you, the investigation has hit a wall,” he started. “We know he fought with someone in that room and died from a blow to the head. The blood on him was most likely from the assailant. The issue is we can’t compel a blood test. And before their rich parents made them lawyer up, Cameron’s friends swore up and down that he didn’t have a problem with them or anyone else.”
Slowly, I returned to my seat.
“We don’t have a string of threatening texts. He didn’t call any strange numbers. We haven’t discovered so much as a spam email on his computer. The only one we can see with a clear motive is you. The private investigators Dominick Dupre hired are combing through every statement and scrap of evidence and they came to the same conclusion.”
“I didn’t—”
“I know.”
The denial lodged in my throat. What
did he say?
Langman leaned in, holding my gaze unflinchingly. “There’s a reason I came here today. I spoke to Jonathan Grayson and he finally told me the truth behind your midnight escape to the cabin. If you became Zeke to get closer to him, finding out he wasn’t your father made Cameron’s blackmail video useless. There was no reason to kill him over a secret that was out.”
I surged forward. “You believe I’m innocent?”
“I do and I want to prove that definitively by running your blood, Miss Manning.” His pepperminty breath passed over my face. “When it comes back as not a match, I can clear you as a suspect and we can move on to other viable leads. The alternative is I put on the record what Mr. Grayson told me—which he asked that I not do if I can help it.”
Of course he did. The scandal would be massive. I can see the headlines now. “Film legend Jonathan Grayson Sterile.” “Who is Derek Grayson’s True Father? Vote Below.”
I found a birth certificate and blew up their happy façade. Still, Jonathan told the truth to keep me out of trouble. The least I can do is take a test I’ll fail.
“Okay. I’ll give you my blood.”
“Thank you, Miss Manning. I’ll have techs here within the hour.”
Langman was good for his word. Forty-five minutes later, he and his techs carted off a vial of my blood. I considered telling Mom about this, then threw the thought away. It wasn’t a big deal. Langman believed me. The results would eliminate me from suspicion and once and for all we’d put this horrible chapter behind us. No need for Mom to pay lawyer fees when I was innocent.
Class was underway when I got onto the Elite floor. Melody shot me huge eyes as I passed her, trying to communicate something. I smiled to let her know I was okay and took my seat.
“Okay, Zela. We’re on page forty-six. Begin analyzing the text and answer the response questions. You can have an extra ten minutes to finish.”
“Yes, Mrs. Munoz.”
I kept my head down and did my work. After the bell rang for lunch, Melody came over to my desk.
“Do you want to skip the cafeteria and eat in our room?” she asked. “All anyone is going to talk about is For All and the police. I want to pretend for a second everything is normal.”
“You read my mind.”
We grabbed some food from the dining room and took it upstairs. I propped my tray on one knee and my tablet on the other. Some peace and quiet to hang with Melody and watch a movie was exactly what I needed.