Get Even

MARGOT COULD FEEL HER HAND TREMBLING IN LOGAN’S AS Coach Creed peeled his car out of the parking lot. He’d threatened to kill John and Bree. Had he taken it a step further with Ronny, who’d gotten him fired from Archway? She could see the madness in his eyes as he stormed the front door of the club. Not only did Coach Creed have motive, he had the ability—both physically and mentally—to commit murder. She’d seen it on his face when he spotted Bree in the doorway.

  “I doubt he’ll be back,” Logan said.

  Margot pushed all thoughts of Coach Creed from her mind. She wasn’t going to let anything ruin this night.

  Logan squeezed her hand as the line began to move. Once inside the club, he navigated them to the railing that separated the bar area from the mosh pit. It was the perfect spot: far enough from the action that she wouldn’t get trampled in the pit but two steps up from the dance floor, it had an unobstructed view of the stage.

  “I’m going to the bar,” Logan said, close to her ear. “Can I get you anything?”

  “Just some water,” she said.

  “Okay,” he nodded with fake seriousness. “Hold down the fort while I’m gone.”

  Margot sighed and leaned against the railing. She must have slipped into a coma and was living out some kind of repressed fantasy. There was no way this could all be real.

  A body sidled up behind her, and Margot spun around, expecting it to be Logan.

  Instead, Ed the Head glared at her coldly.

  “So this is why you couldn’t go out with me tonight,” he said. “You already had a date.”

  “I told you I was busy,” Margot said. “That wasn’t a lie.”

  “Wasn’t the truth either.”

  Margot felt the heat of shame spreading across her chest. “I’m sorry. I should have told you.”

  Ed craned his head, scanning the club. “So who’s your date? And why did he leave you alone to fend for yourself?”

  “He’s at the bar,” Margot said defensively. “Getting me a bottle of water.” She wasn’t going to let Ed the Head disparage Logan.

  “Ah.” Ed stared at the bar in silence. “Logan McDonough, huh?” he said after a few moments.

  “How could you possibly know that?”

  He shrugged. “Easy. He keeps looking over here.”

  Great. “Can we talk at school tomorrow?” Margot asked, desperate for him to leave her alone.

  Ed the Head ignored her. “What do we know about this guy?”

  “We?”

  “Yeah. I mean, he just transferred into this school and you’re already boyfriend and girlfriend? Have you met his parents? His friends? Know where he lives? Done any sort of background check or extensive email hacking?” He eyed Margot. “This guy could be anyone.”

  Margot winced as thoughts of Christopher Beeman flooded her brain. This guy could be anyone.

  Stop it. Coach Creed was clearly the prime suspect and Christopher Beeman, whoever he was, had faded into Ronny’s backstory. “Is there something you wanted?” Margot asked.

  “Actually, yeah.” Ed the Head pulled a file folder out of his ever-present backpack. “Small lead on your photo.”

  Margot caught her breath. “Do you know who it is?”

  “Not exactly.” Ed the Head held the folder in both hands. “I tried everything. Even dusted it for prints. No one’s but yours.”

  “You have a fingerprinting kit?”

  “Why should that surprise you?”

  Margot shook her head. “Anything else?”

  “The photo was taken with an older iPhone model, maybe a 3G or a 3GS.”

  “Oh.” Margot got the distinct impression this information could have waited until school Monday morning. “Well, that narrows it down to every single person I went to junior high school with.”

  Ed the Head clicked his tongue. “O ye of little faith.” He opened the folder and pushed a photo into her hands. “I ran it through some filters and here’s what I got.”

  The photo looked as if it had been lightened, color enhanced, and expertly contrasted. The face of the photographer was still a featureless blob, but Margot could clearly make out the light curly hair.

  “Based on my estimations, the girl in the photo was about five feet tall, with midlength curly blond hair.”

  “Which describes most of the girls in my class,” Margot said with a sigh.

  “Not so much.” Ed the Head slipped several more photos out of the folder and handed them to Margot. They were blowups of photos from her seventh-grade yearbook. “Taking into account hair length, height, and when these yearbook photos were taken, I’ve narrowed it down to five suspects.”

  Margot sifted through the photos. Tiffany Horne, Samantha Heisberg, Loretta Davis, Eleanor McGrath. As she stared at the fifth and final photo, her hand began to shake.

  Olivia Hayes.

  UNCORRECTED E-PROOF—NOT FOR SALE

  HarperCollins Publishers

  ..................................................................

  FORTY-SEVEN

  B REE LEANED AGAINST A PILLAR NEAR THE BACK OF THE PIT and wrapped her arms tightly around her body. It was less her usual “don’t mess with me” stance and more “I need to give myself a hug.”

  You’re both dead, Coach Creed had screamed. And he’d meant it, of that Bree was sure. She’d never looked into the eyes of a killer, but the wild hatred she’d seen in Coach Creed was exactly what she’d imagined she’d see. It wasn’t much of a leap to think that he’d turned his blind rage on Ronny as well. Now they just had to find proof before he followed through on his threats and went after John.

  Another image replaced Coach Creed in her mind. John, lips parted, leaning down to kiss her. Just the memory of it caused an involuntary reaction: her pulse quickened, her stomach fluttered, her breath caught in her chest.

  John had been right: everything was about to change.

  Bree’s eyes wandered aimlessly around the sellout crowd, tightly packed into the small club, all there to see John’s band. Maybe that was affecting her judgment? Her gaze lingered on a couple frantically making out in the corner. Maybe the rock-star vibe John was giving off had seduced her subconscious to the point where her hormones raged out of the control like those two idiots?

  As she stared at the make-out session with a mix of envy and horror, she realized the two figures were familiar. Holy shit, Kitty and Donté.

  If Olivia didn’t know that her ex-boyfriend was getting primal with their DGM leader, she would soon.

  She glanced back toward the stage, searching for Olivia, and caught sight of her in the mosh pit, snaking her way through the crowd, practically on a collision course with the Kitty–Donté face-sucking display. It was only a matter of time before Olivia barreled into them.

  Bree’s instinct was to intercept Olivia, but she stopped herself. Why did she care? So what if Kitty and Olivia fought over the same guy; wouldn’t it be more entertaining to watch her two friends go at it?

  No. No, it wouldn’t be fun to watch the fallout. She didn’t want to see either of them get hurt.

  Bree pushed herself off the pillar and shouldered her way through the crowd. “Olivia!” Bree cried out, but her voice was muted. Olivia never even paused. She was practically within sight of Kitty and Donté. Crap. This wasn’t going to end well.

  Just when Bree thought a Kitty–Olivia confrontation was inevitable, someone stepped between them, blocking Olivia’s path.

  Bree had never been so happy to see Ed the Head in her entire life.

  “What is it?” Olivia asked. Her eyes shifted to either side of him, still in search of Donté. The concert was about to start. Where was he?

  “I have some more information for you.” Ed the Head leaned forward and dropped his voice. “About that photo.”

  Olivia arched an eyebrow, her interest piqued. “Spill it.”

  Ed the Head smiled wryly. “Perhaps we should discuss price first?”

  Olivia threw up her hands, exasperated. “Ed, I’m n
ot going out with you. Give it a rest.”

  “Olivia, Olivia, Olivia,” Ed the Head sighed, shaking his head. “Not everyone at this school dreams of a date with you.”

  “What do you want then?”

  “I want”—he paused dramatically—“a favor. To be named at a later date.” He extended his hand.

  A favor. Olivia had no idea what Ed the Head had in mind, but she’d deal with his request later. She accepted his hand and gave it a firm shake. “Done.”

  Immediately, Ed the Head was all business. “Barbara Ann Vreeland was expelled from Bishop DuMaine after the grade-fixing scandal broke two years ago, based on an anonymous tip. She was failing algebra, again, and her coach struck a deal with the math teacher.”

  Olivia pursed her lips. “I already knew that.”

  “Aha!” Ed the Head made a dramatic flourish with his hands. “But did you know that Barbara Ann was the captain of the JV girls’ volleyball team?”

  “Yes,” Olivia said slowly. “Because you told me.”

  “Oh, right. Wait, let me try that again.” He bowed his head, like an actor preparing for a scene, then whipped his face up, totally in character. “Aha!” he repeated. “But did you know that after she was kicked off the team, our very own student body vice president took over as JV captain?”

  “Kitty?”

  “And,” Ed the Head added, “did you know that Kitty was also failing algebra?” He didn’t wait for her to answer. “And did you know that Barbara Ann was expelled because she was recruiting teammates for grade fixing?”

  Olivia’s eyes grew wide. “You think Barbara Ann told Kitty about the grade fixing, and Kitty turned her in?”

  Ed the Head threw his hands up in faux innocence. “I’m just saying, it’s an odd coincidence that now Kitty is the captain of the state-champion girls’ varsity team with scholarship offers from every Ivy League school on the planet, while Barbara Ann brews lattes at the Coffee Clash.”

  Olivia couldn’t believe it. Kitty had turned in her friend and teammate. Had she done it intentionally to gain the captain’s position? Olivia thought back to their study sessions for the religion assignment freshman year. She remembered how affected Kitty had been by the whole scandal. At the time, she’d assumed it was because several of Kitty’s friends had been put on academic probation or flat-out expelled, like Barbara Ann. But maybe her reaction had been more personal. Maybe it had been guilt.

  “Worth the price tag?” Ed the Head asked.

  “Yeah,” Olivia whispered. “Thanks.”

  “Awesome. You’ll be hearing from me.” He backed away and flashed her two finger guns. “I am considerably out of here.”

  A cry went up as the band took the stage. There was a rush forward in the mosh pit, and Bree lost sight of Olivia and Ed the Head. Oh well. At least Olivia had been derailed from her search.

  Devil Dan was the first one out, followed by Shane and Grizzly, with John trailing behind. He kept his head down as he picked up his bass and gave a few quick strums before getting into position. Without a word, Devil Dan counted off with his drumsticks and they launched into “Bangin’ Love.”

  John attacked the bass line that opened the song and Bree held her breath. Within two bars, the crowd went absolutely apeshit.

  The rest of the band joined the song and the club literally erupted in movement and sound. The screeching guitars and vicious cymbal hits were deafening, and even Bree, veteran concert goer that she was, fought the urge to plug her ears with her fingers. The mosh pit writhed like a living, breathing organism. In the front, girls and guys alike were reaching their hands out toward Shane, who straddled his guitar with a ferocity that had always turned Bree’s insides to Jell-O. Usually, Bree couldn’t keep her eyes off of him at a Bangers and Mosh show. But tonight she could only see John.

  When the chorus kicked in, John and Grizzly joined with harmony, and every single person in the audience, including Bree, sang along.

  Don’t you know I want you?

  Don’t you know you know you want me?

  Don’t you know you want my

  Bangin’ love?

  Don’t you know you need my

  Bangin’ love?

  As the song crescendoed to the finale, John reprised his solo bass line, then jumped up and landed the final note of the song.

  The crowd exploded.

  “Thank you!” Shane said. He took a swig of water from his bottle as the noise died down. “Thank you guys for coming out tonight. We’re so thrilled to be back at the Ledge, the best fucking all-ages club in Northern California.”

  The audience roared in appreciation.

  “We’re doing a mix of old and new tonight,” Shane continued. “If you haven’t noticed, we’ve got a new member of Bangers and Mosh to introduce. On bass now is Bagsie, who just threw down the wickedest rendition of ‘Bangin’ Love’ I’ve ever heard. Seriously, how epic was that?”

  Again the crowd roared, even louder than before. John held up his hand in thanks, but looked totally and completely embarrassed by the attention. Bree wasn’t sure if she wanted to hug him or slap him across the face and tell him to man up.

  “Bagsie and I have been working on some new songs, some of which we’ll be debuting tonight. So . . . yeah. Fuck it. Let’s play.”

  The band started their second song—another classic Bangers and Mosh tune—but before Bree could enjoy it, she noticed a face coming toward her in the crowd. She was easy to spot: while everyone else was watching the band onstage, Olivia was aiming for the back of the club again.

  One second Olivia was searching in an unfocused way, the next, her eyes were locked on to something in the corner. Bree was close enough to see the color drain out of Olivia’s face as her eyes grew wide and her jaw fell slack.

  Shit.

  Then, by some weird psychic connection, Kitty broke away from Donté’s tonsillectomy and looked toward the stage. She saw Olivia right away, and Bree watched the same look of horror overcome her.

  “Olivia!” Kitty mouthed, her voice lost in the music. She broke away from Donté and ran toward her.

  But Olivia didn’t wait. She swung around and disappeared into the crowd.

  UNCORRECTED E-PROOF—NOT FOR SALE

  HarperCollins Publishers

  ..................................................................

  FORTY-EIGHT

  BREE BROKE FREE OF THE CROWD IN TIME TO SEE KITTY FOLLOW Olivia into the ladies’ room. Thankfully there was no line as Bree squeezed in behind them.

  “Olivia,” Kitty said. “I’m so sorry. I thought you knew.”

  Olivia leaned close to the mirror and dabbed at her face with a paper towel. Her eyes were already red and overflowing with a flood of tears.

  “Knew what?” she said, her voice cracking with emotion. “That you’re boning my boyfriend?”

  “I’m not sleeping with him,” Kitty said.

  Not yet, Bree wanted to say, but she kept that little nugget to herself.

  “I saw you,” Olivia said. Her lower lip trembled. “I saw the way he touched you. You can’t possibly tell me that you’re just friends.”

  To her credit, Kitty was amazingly calm. “I won’t tell you that because it’s not true. Donté and I are dating.”

  Olivia gasped and a tsunami of tears cascaded down her cheeks. “How could you do this to me?”

  “Donté said he told you about it at rehearsal and that you were okay with it.”

  Kitty tried to touch Olivia’s arm, but she jerked away. “Don’t touch me!”

  The door flew open, momentarily flooding the room with the ear-splitting sounds of the band, and Margot marched in. Oh, thank God, Bree thought. Margot would know what to do.

  Margot pointed at Olivia. “It was you.”

  Olivia swung around, gripping the sink behind her. “What are you talking about?”

  “You took the photo,” Margot said. Her voice was more forceful than Bree had ever witnessed. “You were the one with
Amber that night. You were the one who ruined my life.”

  So much for an ally. “What are you talking about?” Bree asked.

  Kitty seemed to know what was going on. She put a hand on Margot’s shoulder. “You mean the photo. The one that—”

  “The one that precipitated my suicide attempt,” Margot said. She pulled up the left sleeve of her shirt, exposing several dark, parallel scars.

  “Holy shit,” Bree said.

  Margot laughed. “You didn’t know, did you?”

  Bree shook her head.

  “Yeah, well, I’m the crazy girl who tried to kill herself after some embarrassing photos circulated in junior high. Photos that up until a few days ago, I’d assumed were taken by Amber Stevens. Turns out, it was Olivia.”

  No wonder Margot had kept DGM from going after Amber. She wanted that revenge for herself.

  Olivia’s lip trembled. “I can explain, Margot. I swear I didn’t know—”

  “Didn’t know that taking photos of me naked and bound in plastic wrap would ruin my life?”

  Olivia swallowed. “I didn’t know what Amber was up to. She said we were going to a party. Then she told me she wanted to pose for some photos in front of Rex’s bedroom window. I had no idea it was your house.”

  “Sure you didn’t,” Margot said.

  Kitty stepped between them. “Why didn’t you say something?” she asked Olivia. “Why would you keep Amber’s secret?”

  Olivia laughed. “Oh, you’re one to talk about secrets. Were you ever going to tell us about Barbara Ann Vreeland?”

  That name was familiar. “She was one of the students kicked out of school freshman year, right?” Bree asked.

  “Yep.” Olivia turned to Kitty with a wide smile. “Do you want to tell them who was responsible for getting her expelled, or should I?”

  Bree’s jaw dropped. “You blew the whistle?”

  “I . . .” Kitty started.

  “Holy shit,” Bree cried for the second time in as many minutes. “You totally did!”

  Olivia’s eyes narrowed, giving her face a nasty Amber-like quality. “She threw a friend under the bus so she could be captain of the volleyball team. Makes you wonder what she’d do to us.”