by Rachel Shane
“Wh—Where do you think the right place is?”
“I don’t know. These crimes are more organized.” She tapped her fingers on the table. “Maybe I need to figure out who would have the resources to pull this off. Someone must be supplying all those plants.” She rose from her seat and headed to her purse.
“What are you doing?” The panic in my voice could have convicted me right there.
“Calling the Garden Center.”
“No!”
She squinted at me.
“I mean, that place is tiny. There’s no way they could continually supply that many plants. They grow the stuff themselves and have plenty of customers.” I shut off the stove. “Besides, dinner’s ready.”
She gnawed on her lower lip. “Yeah, you’re right.”
“You need to try wholesale flowers or something. Maybe someone is ordering online?” I scooped the raviolis into bowls. They looked like they needed another few minutes, but luckily my terrible cooking skills might not make this suspicious. The sauce helped hide the evidence further.
She sank back into her chair.
“Were all the activist stunts like this one?” I carried the bowl over and set it in front of her before she could reconsider the Garden Center.
“This was the first one at a housing complex, if that’s what you mean. Warehouses and parking lots have also been vandalized.”
“That’s all?”
“Let me think.” She scooped a ravioli into her mouth and chewed. And chewed and chewed. Guess they were really chewy. “They recently glued all the locks of Town Hall shut, which was odd considering they broke a few of the windows.” Had to be Kingston. And Whitney’s glue. “If the alarm hadn’t gone off, I don’t know what would have happened. They’d already damaged so much.”
“Because of the windows?”
“No, they must have done that last, since it triggered the alarm. Before that, they tacked a makeshift greenhouse on the back entrance. There was graffiti, too. That was why we started the investigation.”
This must be the Greenhouse incident I saw in her files. “What did it say?”
She poured lemonade in both glasses. “‘This land has been re-zoned. Sucks, doesn’t it?’”
That reminded me of what Chess had said about the township changing zoning laws and eradicating the farm because of it. “What else did they do?”
She tilted her head to the side. “Why are you so curious?”
I dropped the fork into my bowl, flinching. It sounded louder than a car accident. “Um . . . because you are.” I studied her, really studied her. Sure, creases extended from her tired eyes, and her hair stuck out from her bun at odd angles. But her skin glowed. Freckles that had long been hibernating appeared proudly on her nose. Even her clothes fit her better, no longer hanging off her skinny frame like a sheet over a ghost. She’d tied a belt around her T-shirt in a way that looked almost fashion-conscious.
“What?” She glanced down at her clothes, tugging at the belt.
“You look . . . like a grownup.”
“Oh?” She shifted her weight to lean on one hip. “So you think I’m old?”
I grinned as I took a sip of lemonade. “You’re Grandfather William!” I teased, referring to our grandfather who hadn’t aged well and looked eighty years old even in photos of Mom as a baby. “The light makes your hair look white.” I giggled.
“You think I’m old? In high school, I never made dinner or spent my free time recycling. You’re the one that needs the cane.” She stabbed at another ravioli.
“Right, you spent your time dating boys. Remember those creatures? They’re not myths.” My smile was so wide, it could rival Chess’s.
She chomped on her pasta but didn’t retort with a snappy comeback. Suddenly, the lighthearted fun in the room went down the drain with the water.
“I’m sorry,” I said.
“It’s fine.” Lorina swiped her palm across her brow. “You know, maybe you’re right.”
“That’s what my teachers always say.”
“I’m sorry, too. For the way I acted yesterday. I’d like to meet this guy you like. As a sister, I mean.”
My smile wavered. I wanted Lorina to take part in my life, to love the things I loved . . . well, not in the same way, but I couldn’t lead her right to him. He was the culprit she was looking for.
And then a realization hit me like a stun gun. I didn’t have a guy. Because if I did, Kingston would set me up to take the fall for all the activism like he had threatened. Which meant I had to stay away from him. My eyelashes fluttered. “I don’t think that guy and I are . . . happening anymore.”
“Oh, Alice.” She placed a comforting hand on my shoulder. When she removed it, she made me sit down while she cleaned up and took care of me—something I hadn’t realized how much I actually needed.
My shiny, new driver’s license waited patiently in my wallet, but that didn’t mean I had access to the car I shared with my sister. She only gave me free reign when she could find another ride through her work carpool, which was rare and usually only when I begged. Asking Di for a ride to school was a last resort. I needed a distraction. For Kingston, not me. Let him see me with Di and think I’d cowered. Scratch that, let him see me with Di and Dru since they came as a pair nowadays. Scratch that, they came as a trio. A trio that didn’t include me.
Since Di and Dru had some important meeting with Quinn the next morning that I apparently wasn’t invited to, it meant we left for school when Kingston still lay snuggled in his bed, totally defeating the purpose of my request. But I couldn’t back out now. I slid into Di’s back seat.
“So she’s trying to get to the bottom of this?” Di reversed out of my driveway.
“Shh,” Dru hissed. Her eyes flicked to me.
I flicked mine right back. “I’m sorry my presence is preventing you two from plotting a revenge prank.”
“That’s not what this is about. We would never do that. No how.” Dru raised the volume of the radio.
“Contrariwise, we’re helping Quinn investigate who vandalized her—”
“Shut. Up!” Dru nudged Di as she turned onto the main road, making the car swerve.
“Wait.” Gears shifted into place in my mind. Quinn saying she was moving. That her parents were building something. Her being absent yesterday. Whitney saying they were targeting the owners of the new solar-powered development. My temples pounded. “Quinn’s house was the one that was refor—uh, targeted by ecoterrorists?” I cringed at the word, but I needed answers here.
Dru spun around in her seat, hair swinging into her face. “How do you know about that?”
“My sister told me.” I prayed a silent thank you for quick thinking. “She’s investigating the incident.”
“Oh.” Dru’s face softened. “What else did she say? Does she know anything?”
“Why is your sister investigating that?” Di’s face was scrunched up in an impressive display of wrinkles. “I thought she checked on small claims, like making sure restaurant bathrooms had washing-hands signs.” Oops. I never did tell her about Lorina’s promotion.
I rattled off a quick explanation of her new job. My pulse pounded a mile a minute. I’d never been so eager to get to school. Kingston had sent me a secret message yesterday; I would do the same today to Whitney, but I had to do it before Kingston could spot me slipping it into her locker. I had no idea when he would arrive to spy on me, so I had to do it ASAP.
As soon as we pulled into the empty parking lot, I thanked Di for the ride and rushed off, but not before I caught them exchanging a glance behind my back.
I sprinted toward Whitney’s locker, racing down the empty hallways. I scribbled off a hasty note asking if she’d known it was Quinn’s house. Once that was done, I hopped in place for a few minutes, too antsy to sit still. I decided to use my newfound energy for productivity. And okay, also a distraction. I headed toward the gym locker room to deposit a clean change of gym clothes.
&nb
sp; I rounded the corner to turn into the girls’ locker room when a shadowy movement caught my eye. Curiosity weighed down the Libra decision-making scale, and my head swiveled as if on robotic remote control. The dark shadow morphed into the shape of Chess’s body.
I strode toward him, my mouth twisted in a smile. But when he froze in place and his face fell, I stopped, too. He seemed the opposite of happy to see me, something I couldn’t make sense of during our statue reenactment.
“What are you doing here so early?” He tried to relax his face into a smile, but his body stayed rigid, on high alert.
“I rode with Di and Dru. Speaking of which, did you know the house—” I cocked my head. “Is your hair wet?” His dark hair glinted in the light like it was made out of plastic.
He touched his hair. “Oh, um, I got caught in the rain.” He wiped his now-wet hands on his thighs.
My eyes shifted behind him to the window, confirming what I already knew. Skies the color of raspberry ices with buttery-yellow rays sliced through the pinks. “What rain?”
He rotated around to check the window. “It was raining when I left my house.”
It wasn’t raining in Wonderland at all today. “Do you live far?”
“Um . . . ” His hand cupped the back of his neck. “Yeah.”
I hadn’t expected that. “Oh, cool.” I stepped toward him with fantasies playing in my mind of wrapping myself around him, breathing in his wet-hair scent, and learning more about this new information. “So anyway, did you know the house yesterday was Quinn’s?”
Chess craned his neck left and right as if checking for eavesdroppers. My stomach dropped. I hadn’t seen Kingston snapping photos of me outside the dam. He could be lurking in the shadows now, too. “Don’t be mad, but yeah. Her parents own the whole development. It was the only thing that would get notice.”
“She’s trying to figure out who did it!” I took a step backward. “I should go. Maybe try to do some damage control.”
“If we can fool the township, we can fool her. No worries.” He grinned, and the smile melted me. I wasn’t mad at him. I’d direct all my anger toward the person who deserved it: Kingston. “What are you doing later?” he asked. “I think we should—”
Kiss? No, don’t think that.
“—talk.”
“I can’t.” The word was barely a whisper.
He paused for another moment, then gave me a single nod. “Okay, then.”
A lump lodged in my throat as he brushed past me. I swallowed thickly, wanting to crumble into a fit of girly tears. But it was better this way. If he thought I was angry with him, it would keep Kingston in check, and it might make Chess get over me. Besides, I wasn’t sure if I could trust him anymore.
Because I’d caught Chess in a lie.
If he lived far enough away to get caught in a rainstorm before school . . . his hair would have been dry by the time he got here.
CHAPTER 13
Kingston’s blackmailing left me on high alert, so when Whitney hovered over my desk in English after I’d avoided her for two days, I was prepared.
“Hey,” she said, more question than statement.
“Hi.” I stared straight ahead in a stupid game of peekaboo, as though closing my eyes would keep her from seeing me. Another thing Kingston had robbed me of: my logic.
“You never responded to my note,” Whitney said.
She’d written a cryptic explanation and slipped it in my locker. I could barely decipher it, but I already had the answers. “I didn’t know what to say.”
“How about ‘yes.’ Because you have plans tonight.”
“Too much homework.” I slid my notebook into my backpack.
Di and Dru exchanged subtle smiles. Whitney yanked the portion of my notebook that was still sticking out of my bag. She scribbled a quick message on the back cover, then cupped her hand over it, shielding it from the girls’ view.
We both know you’d rather hang out with us.
As soon as I met her eyes, she scribbled it out.
I forced the words out. “I can’t anymore.”
“I need you, Alice.” She sounded like she meant it.
And I needed to hear that. I closed my eyes and repeated my mantra of I can’t anymore. It felt more like a death sentence than a backing out of potential plans.
I gave Whitney a shrug of one shoulder and followed Di and Dru out of the room, which led me straight into Quinn’s waiting arms. I let my eyelids flutter closed for a few seconds before I pasted a too-big smile on my face. It scared me how easy it was to feign interest in things I didn’t care about, like a stupid plot to get revenge on Neverland High or figure out who was behind the damage to Quinn’s house. I supplied her with as many conspiracy theories as I could, doing my best to keep Whitney and Chess off their radars. I kept reminding myself I was protecting them and biding my time until Kingston stopped keeping tabs on me.
Too bad I’d become his new favorite pastime. He seemed to pop up everywhere: waiting outside my classrooms, rattling down my street in his truck at unexpected times, sitting outside in the school parking lot like a volunteer security guard. Either he was really stepping up his intimidation efforts or he’d been reading a lot of spy novels. Several times, he tried to speak to me, mouth forming the shape of my name. I turned around and ignored his laser-beam eyes singeing a hole in my back.
In gym, Chess and I avoided each other like we had some unspoken agreement. Kingston practically glowed with triumph. It took exhausting effort to refrain from stealing glances in Chess’s direction. I had to forget him, not pine after him.
So when a shadow darkened my locker at the end of the day about a week after I’d rejected Whitney, I hoped for one dumb second it might be him. I had gotten so used to nonsensical things happening that it seemed kind of boring and stupid for life to go back to normal.
“What do you know?” the shadow asked. Girl’s voice.
I twisted around to find Whitney leaning against the adjacent locker, sizing me up. I scanned the area for Kingston. I didn’t see him, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t lurking, cell phone in hand. “Is that a riddle?”
“No, I’m the one trying to decipher what the hell is going on with you. It’s not as fun on the other side.”
I commanded my feet to step in the direction of the school parking lot, but they refused to listen. I threatened them with amputation.
“So a hint would be nice,” she said. “About why you’re avoiding everyone.”
“This . . . isn’t for me after all.”
“Because of Chess?” She raised her eyebrows.
I clutched my book to my chest. “What do you mean?”
“I mean you’ve been acting weird ever since you saw Chess the morning after your PDA freak show, and I don’t believe you’re that upset about Miss Queen Beeswax’s house.”
“Did Chess say something? Does he miss me?” I clamped my hand over my mouth. Someone must have snuck into my room and performed a brain-to-cardboard transplant. “I mean, not that I care or anything.”
“Okay, I get it now.” She peeled herself from the locker. “Well, Chess will be happy.”
Her words shot through my body like a bullet aimed at the heart. “Why? Because I don’t care?”
I shifted from foot to foot, trying to jumpstart her mouth through telekinesis. The guy waiting for the locker below mine joined my foot-tapping dance.
“Listen, I’m going to have a private meeting with myself. But not here.” Whitney eyed the guy who used the locker below mine. “It would be nice if you followed. Especially because I know what’s going on with you.”
Did that mean she knew about the blackmail?
Whitney headed down the hallway in the opposite direction of the parking lot as students hopped out of her path. She walked with the kind of determination that let you know she’d plow right on into you if you didn’t move. I squared my shoulders and tried to walk with the same stomping gait instead of my fluttery, girlish one.
As we glided past the French classrooms, she stabbed at the keys of her cell phone.
“What are you doing?” I gasped out, then covered my mouth.
“Telling the boys to wait in the car.” She threw her cell back in the front pocket of her messenger bag.
Knowing Kingston was nowhere near gave me courage to walk beside her. We turned into the drama wing and entered the room where the school stored old set pieces and costumes.
Inside, Whitney picked up an old cuckoo clock and tilted it in the light before setting it back down on the shelf. Her fingers roamed over dresses of every style and century, hanging from a wobbly rack. I stood in the center of the room watching her, my hands trying to squeeze my notebook into a flatter plane. When she picked up a pair of coral earrings from a jewelry box, she pocketed it.
“I don’t think you’re supposed to take anything.”
She swiped another piece of jewelry from the box. “There are a lot of things I’m not supposed to do.”
Sailors practiced knots in my stomach.
“Sit down or help shop. You’re making me antsy.”
The nearest prop was an oversized bird’s nest from last year’s poorly reimagined version of Aesop’s fables. Whoever thought morals would make exciting pop musical numbers had clearly overestimated the average student’s willingness to attend school activities. I rested in the scratchy weave of branches.
“Why is Chess happy that I’m . . . ” The word hid in my throat but I coaxed it out anyway. “Quitting?”
“That’s not why.” Whitney knelt in front of a basket of hats, rummaging through them.
“Dumb it down for me.”
“He thought you were mad at him. But I kept telling him you weren’t.” She grabbed a handful of ornate pins and stuffed them into her bag. “So then he thought it was because you found out about him and that’s why you didn’t want to be in the group.”
“Because he had wet hair? Why was that, by the way?”
“So, clearly you don’t know and therefore something else changed your mind.” She opened a drawer from a nearby bureau, peered inside, then slammed it shut again. “And Kingston was in a great mood all week. We both know that’s rare.”