Fuck you.
“Is that what you told yourself when you stalked me? That it’s only natural to be curious?” The words slipped out before I could catch them. If I could only cram them back in my mouth. But he’d said it with such confidence, such smugness like, See, stalking is natural. Stalking happens.
He didn’t seem to notice, anyway. He practically bounced into his seat, his eyes shining with a sick light. The drugs were working. He was well on his way to another high. “How’s the reading going?” His mouth visibly trembled as he spoke, then broke into a manic grin.
“It’s great,” I said, and damn if I wasn’t being honest. His essay really was good. “I think it’s ready to turn in. I’m jealous.”
“Are you serious?” He bounced again.
“Yeah. I mean, aside from the grammar stuff, but those were easy to fix.”
Logan laughed and rubbed his face hard, leaving pink blotches on his cheeks, and let his head fall backward. “You have no idea how glad I am to hear that. I’m so fucking sick of this essay.” He jerked forward, swung his laptop to face him, and skimmed the document. The entire time his fingernails drummed a maddening beat on the tabletop. He gave a couple of clicks and then slammed the laptop shut. “Perfect. I accepted your changes. I’m gonna send it in tonight.”
“That’s fast,” I said.
“Gotta move fast, babe.” He beat out a rhythm on the table with his palms until I reached out and caught his hands.
“We’re in the library,” I whispered with a strained smile. “I think it’s probably time for us to go, okay?”
“Yeah, yeah.”
I stole glances at him as he packed his stuff. His behavior was definitely off. Erratic, manic, with an intense look in his eyes and a greasy sheen to his whole…self. I wondered if anyone else noticed. I thought again of the rat freezing as the snake approached, one paw raised in vain. What would Logan be like if he were faced with a snake? Would he freeze as well or try to scramble up the smooth walls of the snake tank? Not that it mattered, of course. Either way, the snake always wins.
Halfway to the front door, I stopped and said, “I forgot I still have to update some stuff at work. You go on ahead.”
Logan frowned. “But it’s late.”
“Yeah, I’ve kind of let things slide around here. You go back to your room, you look like you could use the rest.”
“I’ll stay and drive you home,” he said.
Like hell I’d let him drive me after three pieces of my brownies. He’d probably end up killing both of us. I made my voice firm as steel and said, “Logan, go.”
He started, confusion flashing across his features, then he gave me a toddler’s trusting grin and said, “Okay. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
I watched him bounce off like Tigger before I turned around and went down to the stacks. I sighed as I unlocked the office and settled behind my desk. It felt great to finally be free of Logan, if only for the moment.
“Good study session?” Lisa asked. I jumped and dropped my folder and books. She had the softest footsteps.
“It was okay.”
“He seems like a sweet kid,” she said, helping me gather all the papers that had spilled from my folder.
I snorted. Yeah, he sure seems like a sweet kid.
Heavy footsteps clopped down the stairs. Lisa glanced up at me, looking as bemused as I felt. Before we could say anything, someone called out, “Hello? Excuse me?”
My stomach tipped sideways. Mendez.
“Yes?” Lisa said in her high-pitched librarian voice. She straightened up, brushing herself off and adjusting her glasses before unlocking the door.
The old anger resurfaced. First, Logan came bumbling down here. And now here was Mendez. Why couldn’t people just leave my workplace alone?
“I’m Detective Mendez. You must be Lisa Smith.”
“That’s me, Lisa the librarian,” Lisa said, shaking Mendez’s hand. “This is Delilah, my assistant. She’s also a student here.”
I forced a smile.
“I know Dee.”
“Oh, right.” Lisa smiled back and pushed her glasses up. She was laying on the librarian act nice and thick. Look at me, I’m Lisa the librarian! I wear glasses! I couldn’t possibly be the mastermind behind Draycott’s drug ring! “Can I help you with anything, Detective?”
“Yes, actually, I’m looking for a…some sort of message board?” Mendez took out a slim notebook and riffled through the pages. “A message board where students post their secrets?”
There was a beat, and then Lisa chirped, “Of course! Yes. The Post Ur Secret board. Right this way.” She ushered Mendez out of the office, chattering the entire time. “What are you looking for at the board? Ooh, don’t tell me if it’s something awful, I have a very weak stomach. Maybe you could give me a hint, though.” God, she was such a pro. No one could possibly suspect this version of Lisa of doing anything remotely illegal. She absolutely radiated helplessness; someone who’d turn herself in if she so much as ran a red light. Someone who fainted at the sight of blood. I should be taking notes.
Mendez laughed. “I’ll know when I see it. Tell me about this board.”
The two of them seemed to have forgotten about me, which was just fine. I trailed along quietly, trying to look calm, trying to keep all of the little broken pieces of me from falling apart. I listened closely to Mendez’s voice and studied her every move. Was anything off? Was she looking at me differently, like she knew something I didn’t? What had she heard about the Post Ur Secret Board? Worse still, what would she find?
By the time we got to the board, every nerve inside me was thrumming.
“This is it,” Lisa said, with a flourish. She stood to one side with her back to the board, her eyes studying Mendez studying the board. You’d catch the cold calculation behind Lisa’s deferential expression only if you were looking out for it.
“Whoa,” Mendez said.
“It is quite a lot to take in,” Lisa agreed.
No kidding. The first time I’d come across the board, I’d been swept away by the sheer size of it. So many secrets pinned together to make one giant flock, so many voices whispering, so many emotions, all of them extreme—elated, excited, some enraged, others sorrowful, none of them peaceful. It was like plunging into the deep end of the ocean. I stood on the other side of Mendez and scanned the board. She’d never find anything in this—
“Aha!” Mendez cried.
Lisa and I jumped. I twisted to look at Mendez and found her gaze locked not on the board but on me. Every inch of my skin turned cold. This was a trap. She didn’t care about the board. She’d just used it as a way of catching me out—
“What is it? Did you find something?” Lisa said, her voice just the right mix of excitement, wonder, and fear.
Mendez tore her gaze from me and glanced at Lisa. “Hmm? No, I thought I saw something, but I was mistaken.”
Lisa frowned. “Well, maybe if you could give us some sort of clue as to what you’re looking for, we’d be able to help…”
“Sorry, Lisa, I need to talk to Dee for a second.”
Lisa’s mouth dropped open. “But—”
Mendez took me by the arm and led me, gently but firmly, out of the library. This is it, then. This is how it all ends. All of my planning was for nothing. How much does she know? My legs turned to water, and I would’ve fallen if Mendez’s hand weren’t wrapped around my arm, steadying me. With each step, I had to remind myself to breathe deeply, slowly.
Outside, Mendez turned to me. “Okay, Dee, you need to be honest with me.”
My voice was gone. I could only nod wordlessly as I waited for her to say the words that would end my life. “I’ve told you everything I know about Brandon’s acc—”
“I’m not here about that,” she said. “Well, it’s sort of related to that. I’m her
e investigating the drug ring at your school.” That was not much better. I’d thought it would be Brandon’s murder that got me in the end, but apparently, I was mistaken. “Remember that pill I found in Brandon’s car?”
Oh god, here it comes. Just tell me you know it belonged to me. It must’ve fallen out of my bag. Rip off the Band-Aid already. Tell me you know, tell me!
“I’ve told you—I don’t do drugs,” I said weakly. “Honest. You can ask anyone here—”
Mendez sighed. “Dee, I know that. I’ve been talking to people here. They all say the same thing about you. That you’re the last person who’d know anything about drugs.” She gave me a sad smile. “You’re a good kid, Dee. But maybe a bit naïve.”
My head whirled. What was she saying? Okay, she just said I was a good kid, which meant she didn’t know about Brandon’s murder or my role in the drug ring. But then she said I was naive… “I don’t understand,” I said.
“Dee, I know relationships in high school can be intense. I was so in love with my high school boyfriend when I was your age. I would’ve done anything for him.”
“I—what?” I said.
Mendez leveled her gaze at me. “How well do you know Logan?”
My mind drew a blank. Of all the questions I’d braced myself for, this was not one of them. “Um, I don’t know—” At some point she was going to notice how I was answering everything with “I don’t know” or “I don’t understand.” I had to come up with something more tangible to satisfy her. Something that wouldn’t tip her off. “We haven’t been dating that long…” I said.
“Long enough to have him over to meet your mom,” Mendez pressed. “Have you noticed anything odd about him? Is he particularly secretive when it comes to say, his phone?”
I shook my head. “I haven’t tried to steal his phone or anything, so I wouldn’t know. He seems okay to me? Normal, I mean.”
Mendez’s eyes drilled into mine. “Really? That’s very interesting, Dee, because apparently you’re close enough to give Logan a key to your place.”
“A…key?”
Mendez’s eyebrows rose. “You didn’t? I ran into him yesterday outside your house, and he said you’d given him a key. He said he left a surprise for you at the house.”
My thoughts shattered into a million galloping, shrieking questions. He was at my house? He broke in? He left something? Some sick, twisted thing, no doubt. God, how I wished I could tell Mendez the truth about Logan, reveal to her what a sicko he was. But then what would happen? She’d catch him, maybe question him, and who knew what he’d say to her? I couldn’t let that happen.
Through some superhuman effort, I managed not to move a single facial muscle. I stretched my mouth into a smile. “Oh, yeah! Yeah, I did…do that, yes.”
Mendez sighed. “Look, Dee, I know you’re in a relationship with him, but there’s something really off about that kid, okay? When I saw him yesterday, he didn’t look so good. Kind of twitchy. Sweaty sheen to him. Eyes all manic.”
That would be the drugs I’ve been slipping into his food, Detective. I wanted to scream with nervous, sick laughter. My plan was working a little bit too fast for my liking. “He can be a bit intense, sure—”
“Dee, between you and me? I know drug addicts. I’ve caught them, I’ve questioned them, I deal with them a lot more often than you think. And Logan—he’s on drugs, Delilah. You really haven’t noticed anything off about him?”
“I’m sorry!” I cried. “I don’t know—yes, maybe, he’s been a little bit more frantic. I didn’t think much of it, I didn’t—”
“Hey, listen.” Mendez placed a firm hand on my shoulder. “You’re a bright girl, Dee. But when it comes to Logan, maybe you’re not quite thinking clearly. You need to be smart about all of this, okay? I have a bad feeling about Logan. You need to watch out for him. Understand?”
What else could I do but nod wordlessly? Mendez said a few other things, but I failed to register any of them. After she left, I stood there watching until her silhouette turned into a small blip, and I wanted to fall into a hundred thousand little pieces. Things were moving too fast. My plan—my unfinished plan—was unraveling. For god’s sake, I’d only completed Step One so far. I hadn’t even carried out Step Two, and Step Three was still just a vague idea. I hadn’t counted on Detective Mendez coming so close to the truth so fast. What if she gathered enough evidence to arrest Logan? He’d spill then, he definitely would. He’d be like, “Why are you wasting your time looking for a drug dealer when there’s a killer right under your nose?” He’d cut a deal with them for immunity. He may have thought he loved me, but I wasn’t too eager to find out how long that “love” would last when he’s facing potential jail time.
And Logan, that sick, twisted boy, had broken into my house. I couldn’t even register just how violated that made me feel. And, as I stood there, feeling increasingly cold, I realized that I also felt fearful. That maybe I wasn’t the snake after all, that maybe I was always doomed to be the rat. Always the prey, always one step behind. Tears stung my eyes. He’d been inside my house. My safe place. He’d been in there, doing god knows what, and I didn’t even realize it. How many times had he broken in without my knowledge? Which of my things had he rifled through? My books? My clothes? Bile rose. My underwear?
“Everything okay?” Lisa asked.
I started again then gritted my teeth and forced myself to smile. “Yeah, just a few routine questions.”
“Hmm.” Lisa didn’t look convinced. She chewed on her bottom lip for a bit. “You’d tell me, wouldn’t you?”
“Huh?”
“If you’re in any sort of trouble,” she said.
The concerned librarian act isn’t fooling me, I wanted to scream at her. Not when I know who you truly are. What you really are.
Then it hit me. She wasn’t asking me because she was concerned about me. She was concerned about how it might affect her and her business. Resentment coursed through my stomach, souring it. I kept my face still, though my insides were writhing and twisting. If she cut me off…hung me out to dry…
I’d take the whole fucking place down with me, Lisa included.
And that was when I realized what Step Three was. I had known a while ago that Step Three was about me being the snake, but I didn’t know what that entailed, exactly. Now I did. And I needed all of the resources I had to do it.
I gritted my teeth and said, “I’m fine.” Well, I wasn’t, not yet. But soon I would be.
Chapter Nineteen
Logan
The first few months after Sophie died, I’d had a bit of trouble digesting the news. My brain refused to register it, and for weeks after, I’d see Sophie everywhere. I’d be standing in line at the cafeteria and I’d hear her laugh and turn my head just in time to catch her turning a corner. I’d drop everything—tray, food, and water crashing to the floor, heads turning in my direction, people whispering, but it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. All that mattered was me running, running, calling out her name. But I was never fast enough. By the time I turned the corner, she was always gone, dispersing into thin air like a breeze.
It took months for it to finally sink in, for the neurons in my brain to finally relay the message to my consciousness: Sophie was dead. She was gone. She’d been alive, and now she no longer was, and all I could do was keep going, keep living, while the memory of Sophie lurked under the surface.
Except now she’d been called up again, shaken out of her slumber. I’d be talking to Delilah, watching her perfect mouth move as she spoke, and suddenly her lips would turn red, her eyes lined in that dramatic way, and I’d be talking to Sophie, and it was like old times, so perfect, and I could reach out and touch Sophie, my Sophie. She flinched when I pulled her close and tried to kiss her.
“Logan, you promised, no physical stuff unless I’m okay with it,” she said.
I bl
inked, and it was no longer Sophie standing before me. Right. I was with Delilah. I let go of her and squinted into the sunset, trying to clear my head. “Sorry, I—”
She was watching me with concern, which made my heart beat faster, golden heat spreading across my chest, drowning out my anxiety. That’s right, Sophie was dead, she was still gone, but I wasn’t alone anymore. I had Delilah, and she was falling in love with me. She’d stopped fighting me. She’d stopped scowling whenever I met her for lunch, and our dates no longer consisted of her trying to pick fights over the smallest things. The other day, she actually plucked a stray leaf from my hair. I’d almost died when she reached out and her fingers brushed my forehead. Yes, things were definitely looking up with Delilah. Which was why I had to get myself together. I couldn’t keep living in the past, clinging to the ghost of Sophie.
“Sorry. It doesn’t matter. I’m here with you,” I said.
Delilah smiled and twirled a lock of hair with her index finger. I blinked, and Sophie stared back at me, twirling her hair. I blinked again. No. I was with Delilah. I took a deep breath and looked around to clear my head. We’d been strolling around the campus grounds and were outside the old chapel, sharing a thermos of hot chocolate Delilah had brought with her. Stone flowerpots lined the path leading up to the chapel entrance. It was a quiet, peaceful spot, one of the oldest buildings at Draycott. Moss half covered everything. Sophie used to love this place. She’d come here and sit by the gravestones to think, running her fingers over the carvings, reading the names out—
Stop thinking of her!
It was this place, I realized. It was Draycott. Sophie was everywhere here. If I went to the Eastern Gardens, she was there, bending over to stroke the petals of a flower. If I went to the pool, she was there, tucking her hair into her swimming cap, swinging her arms ’round and ’round to warm up her muscles. She was in the library, the gymnasium, the corridors. Draycott was saturated with her. The only way I could be rid of her ghost was to leave this place.
If things went as planned, Delilah and I would be in NUS by this time next year. A whole new place just for Delilah and me. Our futures gleamed in front of me, perfect and golden.
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