Why I Loathe Sterling Lane

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Why I Loathe Sterling Lane Page 12

by Ingrid Paulson


  He walked right through the parking lot to the street beyond. There was something guilty and sneaky about the way he moved, shoulders hunched, hood pulled up over his head. When he reached the road he turned and looked around, like he sensed I was there. I jumped behind a pickup truck just in time. I wasn’t really sure why I was hiding, since I’d been hoping to talk to him, but something in his behavior was off enough to pique my curiosity.

  Cole scanned the entire parking lot. When satisfied that he was alone, he approached a rusty blue station wagon idling on the curb and leaned down to stick his head through the window. There were two people in the car, one in the front and one seeming to occupy the entire backseat. Cole stood like that for almost a full minute, talking and gesturing vehemently. I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but I knew my brother. Cole was far from pleased.

  I pulled out my notebook and jotted down the license plate.

  Cole backed away, shaking his head.

  Then the person in the back seat opened the door and stepped out. The man was massive—the way you’d expect an NFl player to look. Cole stopped backing away. He muttered something under his breath and reluctantly climbed into the passenger seat.

  There was no way I was letting Cole go anywhere with that man. I’d never dealt with intimidating brutes, but it was clear to me that’s exactly what the guy in the backseat had been. I looked around for a way to follow them. A bicycle was loosely chained to a nearby fence post. I produced my phone, my heart hammering so hard my fingers shook as I keyed in 911 and kept my finger poised over the send button.

  But that wasn’t enough; even if I called for help, they’d never arrive on time. It was up to me to stop whatever was about to happen to Cole.

  I strolled toward the street, not heading toward the parked car but not heading away from it, either, doing my best to look nonchalant even as sweat beaded my forehead. I was steps away from a shrub that would conceal me when the passenger door flew open and Cole exploded out.

  The driver’s-side door opened at practically the same time, and the second guy climbed out. He was tall and thin, with blond hair and dark-rimmed glasses that accentuated his pallor.

  “We’ll be waiting, Cole,” he called out. “But we’ll only wait so long.” It was an undeniable threat, but my brother kept walking, storming back toward the school.

  The boy watched Cole’s retreating back. I’d never seen him before, but I memorized every detail of his face, each and every freckle. Whatever had happened in the car was the key to understanding whatever mess Cole was in.

  I snapped a photo with my phone, just as the mystery boy climbed back into the car with his sidekick.

  By then, Cole was already halfway across the quad. I broke into a run in order to intercept him before he got inside to his friends, where I’d never catch him alone.

  “I’ve been looking for you everywhere,” I said. “Did you know Dad’s here?”

  Cole eyed me warily. “Of course I do.” He kicked at a clump of dirt with the toe of his tennis shoes. “I spent most of the day getting chewed out.”

  “Did you do it?” I asked. “The truth. I need to know. Was this your plan to finance the new weight room? Because it seems to me that stealing money from yourself doesn’t solve much.”

  He studied me like I was a stranger. “It’s crazy we can look so much alike, be raised by the same parent, and still be so different.”

  “What do you mean?” I braced myself for another of his onslaughts about how I’m stubborn and judgmental and would never understand.

  “You were right. You’re always right.”

  “I don’t understand—tell me. I can help.”

  “It’s better that you don’t,” he replied, glancing over my shoulder toward where the lacrosse guys were loitering. I followed his gaze. Sterling Lane was leaning against the wall, watching us. This time it wasn’t with malice, but rather expectation. He’d been waiting for Cole.

  “Does this have something to do with Sterling Lane?”

  “I guess you could say that,” Cole said, starting to walk away. “I’d be walking with a limp if he hadn’t given me that loan.”

  “What loan?” I demanded, even as my stomach started slowly sinking into the earth. “What were you going to do with that money, Cole? What the hell is going on? Is it—is it drugs?” I was at an utter loss. Cole’s obsession with sports and his vicious competitive streak had always kept him clean. That’s why the episode of drinking I’d observed had shocked me to the core. But maybe this had to do with his competitive streak. Would Cole take steroids?

  “No—not that. Never.” He shook his head adamantly, and I believed him. “I made a mistake,” he said quietly. “But it’s handled. Over. An error in judgment because I’m every bit as gullible as you always say. I’m an idiot.”

  I opened my mouth to defend him, because no one, not even Cole himself, got to talk like that about my brother. But he held up a hand. The utter somberness of his expression silenced me. “Please, Harper, no lectures. I learned my lesson. Go crow your victory somewhere else.” He turned to leave.

  I ached that he thought I’d make him feel worse. Was I really that kind of sister—full of bitter recriminations and judgments when my brother was clearly one step away from breaking?

  “Is this about those guys? That thug in the blue car?” I demanded. Cole had said he’d be walking with a limp if Sterling hadn’t helped him. What exactly was my brother dabbling in? “Were they threatening you?”

  His stunned silence was all the answer I needed. I grabbed his arm, not about to let him leave like that.

  “You need to tell Headmaster Lowell,” I pressed. “Or Dad, or the police. I don’t care who, but tell someone. Tell them what’s going on. Or you could get expelled. Or in more trouble. I don’t know. Just come clean.”

  “That’s the irony,” Cole said. “Tell any of them and I’ll definitely get expelled. They’ll probably lock me up and throw away the key. I’ll take my chances with ambiguity.”

  “But—”

  “It’s over, Harper.” He spoke right over me. “I’ll face the consequences, and you’ll be the golden one, just like you always wanted.” The way he said it, without bitterness or resentment, shattered my heart into a million pieces. It was the first time I’d seen myself through Cole’s eyes, and I didn’t much like the rendering. And yet he’d always accepted me, always supported me, even when my words and actions apparently cut him to the quick.

  My heart was in my throat as I watched my brother walk away. This person I was born with, who’d been beside me since we were cells suspended in space, had been hiding something he’d had to face alone. Something he’d pay for alone.

  While I’d been organizing my life into Rules and regulations, he’d needed my help and I’d been as blind to his needs as he’d always been aware of mine.

  It was the worst moment of my entire life.

  Topped off with a cherry when Sterling Lane materialized at my shoulder, drawn to human suffering like a dog to a butcher store dumpster.

  “Illuminating little chat?” he asked. “Sad part is, I was just getting used to him. I’ll cry myself to sleep in my lonely private room.”

  The comment sparked a powder keg inside me. “Is that what this is all about?” I snarled. “You got him into some big mess just so you’d get to live alone? I wouldn’t put it past you.”

  “You would be wise not to put anything past me,” Sterling said. “You, however, have everyone fooled. You play the uptight little goody-goody, and then you turn around and perform one of the larger acts of dishonesty I’ve seen in years. And believe me, sweetheart, I fraternize with some pretty despicable characters.”

  “I took that page from your playbook, Sterling,” I said. “After all, you’re pretty much a professional liar. Figured I’d add to your portfolio.”

  “I might drift from the truth sometimes, and maybe I don’t err on the side of full disclosure, but who does?” His arched eyebrow dre
dged up memories of all the lies I’d told since we’d first met. “Oh, that’s right. You. The funny thing is, you’re honest with everyone except yourself. Because while you claim the moral high ground, what you did is far worse than anything I’ve done. That was malicious, outright slander.”

  “Worse than what you did?” I said, my thoughts scrambling backward through time. To all of the outrageous things he’d said. “Hardly. You’ve done your share of slander—like how you claimed I want to date you.”

  “Interesting that’s the first incident that pops into your mind when every time I turn around you’re accusing me of lying about something.” His smile dangled in the air between us like a noose. “Interesting, and definitely worth exploring,” he added with a wink. “I said I wasn’t ready for a relationship. You drew your own inferences.”

  He stopped talking and suddenly it seemed like we’d been standing there since the dawn of time staring at each other. I needed a snappy response, something that would wipe that smile right off his perfect face. Or I should leave—walk away. But I couldn’t stand leaving him with the last word.

  Sterling finally looked away, toward the door as Kendall entered, prettier than I’d ever seen her. She was wearing a black dress that swirled around her knees when she walked. And her hair was up, twisted into a slick knot.

  “It seems I have dinner plans. But you wouldn’t know about that, would you?” Sterling’s gaze met mine. “Harper Campbell always eats alone. By choice?” He leaned one shoulder against the wall, studying me. “I’ll be appearing before the disciplinary committee alongside your darling brother. Because you framed me. Remember this moment, Harper. I repay my debts in kind.”

  “Fine,” I snapped. “Do whatever you want to me. Just tell me what’s going on with Cole. Tell me how I can help him.”

  “I’ve got Cole’s situation under control,” Sterling said, dismissing me. “Loyalty is everything, Harper, and he’s earned mine. Expulsion is the least of his worries. But yes, the school is one more loose end to tidy up. I’ll find a way to weasel us both out of that, no thanks to you.”

  “Excuse my lack of faith in your expulsion-weaseling abilities, but your success rate is relatively low.”

  “Not when you deal in the volumes I do.”

  Kendall grabbed Sterling’s elbow with one hand, claiming his undivided attention.

  “What time is our reservation?” Kendall asked. They were going off-campus. It was the only explanation for her spectacular appearance, even though Sterling wore a rumpled dress shirt, his trademark scuffed boat shoes, and battered khaki slacks that were fraying at the bottom.

  “I’ll leave you to your misery,” Sterling said, like he was granting me some elaborate favor. “Unfortunately, I can’t say you don’t deserve it. You’re willfully undereducated when it comes to people, at the end of the day. That’s as much a part of being smart as all those facts and dates you accumulate.”

  “No, it’s not,” I sputtered, choking on the bitter knowledge that he was right.

  “Whatever,” Kendall said, rolling her eyes. “Being smart is just like being pretty.”

  “Yes, just like it,” I snapped.

  “No,” Kendall said, meeting my gaze. “I meant, what’s the point of being either if there’s no one there to admire you for it?”

  “Well said.” Sterling smiled at her like she’d just invented the steam engine. “Dinner’s on me.”

  “I thought it was anyways,” Kendall said as they walked away. “Isn’t that the point of a date?”

  “I don’t date,” Sterling said.

  Kendall stumbled in her heels. I’d never seen her do that before. She deserved better treatment than that, even if her going to dinner with Sterling Lane was a betrayal of sorts.

  “Not a date? Then what is this?” she asked, crossing her arms over her chest and putting an additional foot of space between the two of them.

  “Reconnaissance,” he said, shooting me a cryptic look. “Seems the Campbell family is in need of some professional help.”

  Kendall nodded. “Like a psychiatrist?”

  “Yes, that too,” Sterling said.

  As they walked away, I strained my ears to catch the tail end of this conversation, far more curious than I’d care to admit.

  “What other sort of professional help?” Kendall asked.

  “Mine.”

  It didn’t bother me at all that Sterling and Kendall looked like they were in a modeling shot as they walked away, on their perfect little “not date.” Kendall was glamorous in a way I could never be, even if I took it upon myself to try. And Sterling had the confidence to make his tattered preppy gear look like formal wear. Physically, they were a perfect match, even if Kendall did deserve a boy with some semblance of a moral compass.

  What bothered me, as I sat down to dinner with my history textbook, was that Cole had confided in Sterling while acting like I was both judge and executioner. I had to show Cole he was wrong and that I supported him, no matter what.

  I pulled out my laptop and started searching. Between the license plate and the photo I’d snapped, there had to be a way to track down Cole’s uninvited guests.

  A simple online search revealed that the license plate was likely stolen—it didn’t match the make or model of the car, which meant it was little help in identifying Cole’s friends. Then I searched for cars similar to the model I’d seen. I hadn’t recognized it at first sight, but the more I Googled, the more I narrowed it down to the make and year. If it had stolen plates, it was a safe bet that the vehicle itself had been stolen, too. I placed a call to the local police department, and after being shunted around five times, finally spoke with a junior detective who promised to look into the matter and get back to me.

  I pulled up the photo I’d taken of the blond-haired boy. If he had a stolen car and stolen plates, there was a good chance this wasn’t his first crime. Even though it meant spending funds earmarked to help Cole finance the weight room, pursuing the thugs in the car seemed a far more expeditious way to solve Cole’s problems. I needed someone with access to a police database who could search for the blond boy.

  A private investigator—that’s what I needed. I’d get to the bottom of this myself, whether Cole wanted me to or not.

  Reason 15:

  Unless Kendall is exaggerating,

  his supposed Rules about dating

  are totally disgusting.

  It’s an insult that he refers to them

  as Rules at all.

  Private investigators cost a small fortune, so I spent the evening scouring photos of local events, looking for Cole’s friends. To no avail. Finally, I found a local agency that specialized in accident investigation and charged only twenty dollars an hour. I left a voicemail, inquiring whether they would negotiate a special fee for a local search.

  Kendall crashed into our room at eight o’clock that night wearing a frown as wide as Nebraska.

  I looked up. “How was dinner?” Ordinarily, I would have pretended I didn’t care, but after my encounter with Sterling earlier that day, I’d been obsessing over what he’d meant about Cole and my needing assistance and exactly what form his help would take.

  Plus, I was curious.

  There was something unsettling about the idea of Sterling dating Kendall. Sure, it had been my idea at first, but that was before I really thought it through. I couldn’t stand the idea of him loitering around our room like he lived there. Plus, there were basic differences in their temperaments that made them incompatible. Kendall would have to suffer through Sterling’s vindictive streak, while he needed someone who could match him blow for blow. She deserved a boy who would take care of her and listen to her endless prattle. Someone like Parker.

  “The food was great,” she said. “The company was miserable.”

  That was unexpected.

  “You ate?” I couldn’t count on both hands the number of times I’d watched her stare longingly at my evening study snack and then compla
in about being fat, like it was my job to contradict her and force my food down her throat. In fact, she had not a single physical imperfection, which I’d tried to tell her without sounding creepy.

  She gave me a narrow-eyed glare.

  “Sorry,” I said. “What happened, though? You and Sterling seemed chummy enough when you left.”

  “Chummy,” she said. “Yeah, as in friends. He has rules.”

  “Rules?” A little shiver of dread wiggled its way down my spine as I imagined him discussing my Rules with Kendall—he’d threatened to make them public unless I stayed out of his business. And framing him for theft was pretty much the opposite of staying out of his business. “What Rules?” I asked.

  “They were weird.” She wrinkled her nose. “Most of them were boring—stuff about his family and how to plot revenge. Until he got to the ones about dating.”

  “Rules about revenge?” I couldn’t keep the curiosity out of my voice. “And dating?”

  “He doesn’t do it,” Kendall said. “Dating, that is. Or, I mean, only once. No second dates. I thought we’d, you know, go out a few times, get to know each other like normal people. But he told me he doesn’t do second dates so anything I wanted from him had to happen that night. You get one shot—his words, not mine.”

  “What would you want from him?” I asked as the pieces slid into place in my mind. “You mean like—” I made an awkward hand gesture that didn’t really mean anything at all. But Kendall understood. She nodded. Her nose scrunched up even smaller, until I thought it would disappear altogether.

  “In other words, he doesn’t want to be my boyfriend.”

  “Well, that’s okay, right?”

  “You don’t understand,” she said. “Everyone wants to be my boyfriend. I’m never alone.”

  “I think it’s for the best that your little theory was debunked before you make an ass of yourself one day, Kendall,” I said. “Because clearly it isn’t true. Besides, being alone isn’t that bad. In fact, it’s healthy. Look at me.”

 

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