by Eileen Cook
Great. Now I could add guilt on top of paranoia. I counted to sixty after he left. I stood and moved toward the filing cabinet. The top drawer was cracked open. My hand hovered over the handle, but I couldn’t seem to bring myself to grab it. I was certain as soon as I did Mr. Lester would suddenly return, remembering that he had a bottle of Tylenol in his desk. The only times I allowed myself to go into his cabinet before were when I knew he had a meeting or was out of the building. Doing it when he was just down the hall seemed reckless. I could perfectly picture his face if he caught me going through the student files. Betrayal. Disappointment. Suspicion of what else I might be capable of doing.
Do it.
Sweat poured down my back. My hand shot out and yanked the drawer open. It came out so fast that the entire cabinet tilted. I shoved my leg forward to keep it from falling over. My knee slammed into the metal side and pain radiated up into my thigh, throbbing in time with my heartbeat. I glanced quickly over my shoulder to make sure I was still alone. Then my fingers flew over the files, the order of the alphabet momentarily completely erased from my memory.
Finally, I spotted Lucy’s file and pulled it out. I flipped through pages of test scores and grades. My finger trailed down the individual sheets of paper as I looked for something to jump out at me.
Bingo.
Around the holidays, she and Paige had been brought in to talk to Lester because of a fight they had in the locker room. I knew I had remembered something from Paige’s file, but I’d never looked in Lucy’s. There were more details of the fight in hers. It said that it hadn’t been really violent: there had been screaming, some hair pulling, and Paige had pushed Lucy. Neither of them would say what the fight was about, but Lester had indicated he thought a boy was involved. Lester had written something about “competitive friendship” and “lack of communication skills.” I squinted to make out his handwriting. There was something that, despite Lucy’s past, he had no further concerns. What did that mean?
There was a note that Lester had followed up a week later and both of them had insisted they’d made up—good as new. I had my doubts about that. Neither of them struck me as the type to forgive and forget. I flipped forward to the end of the file and saw there was a manila envelope from Lucy’s old school stuffed in the back. It was marked CONFIDENTIAL in a bright red stamp across the back flap, but it had been opened before. I pulled out the sheet inside and scanned it quickly.
Holy shit.
Lucy had been hiding a lot more than a hookup with her friend’s boyfriend. She hadn’t transferred here because our school had more AP classes; she’d been kicked out of her old school. I flipped the sheet over, looking for more information. All it said is that she was being expelled for “violence against another student and concerns for the emotional impact of Lucy remaining in the current toxic environment.”
There was a note scribbled on the bottom of the sheet in pencil noting “no criminal charges filed.”
My heart thudded in my chest. Did the police know about this? If there hadn’t been charges, it was possible her record was sealed. If Lucy had a history of violence, and she and Paige had it out over Ryan, who knew what she might be capable of doing.
There was a sound in the hall, so I stuffed the paper back in the file and slammed it shut. I’d answered one question and raised a whole bunch of new ones.
Thirty-Four
I needed to find out more about Lucy’s past, and there was no way Mr. Lester would tell me. I waited until fourth period, then lurked outside the gym waiting for Lindsey. She finally came out of the locker room, her fine blond hair still wet from the shower. Her eyes were red and puffy.
I stepped into her path. “Hey, can I talk to you for a second?”
She stopped short and looked around. I’d checked her schedule before I left Lester’s office. This was the only class she had all day without any of her usual crowd in it.
Lindsey hefted her gym bag higher onto her shoulder. “What do you want?”
I motioned to the open classroom behind me. “It’ll just take a second.” When she didn’t move, I laid on the guilt. “I’m working with the police, and I need to ask you something about Paige. It’s important.”
She followed me into the empty chem lab. She put her bag down on one of the long tables and crossed her arms over her chest. “I’ve talked to the police three times. I don’t know anything.” Her lower lip shook.
There was a faint burnt-chemical smell in the air. Someone’s experiment had gone wrong last period.
“But you guys shared a lot of secrets. Stuff you didn’t even tell other people in your group.” I cocked my head to the side. “She was the only one who knew why you really dropped the debate team.”
The blood drained out of her face, turning her skin a pasty gray. “How do you know—” She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. I’m not telling you anything. Maybe you’re working with the cops, or maybe you’re just trying to dig up dirt so you and your mom can spread it around in the press. She might be a story to all of you, but she was my best friend.”
“I don’t need you to share any of her secrets. I need to know someone else’s. Did she ever talk to you about Lucy and Ryan?” I held my breath, waiting for her to answer.
Lindsey’s eyes widened. “How do you know about that? Paige didn’t want anyone to hear that story.”
“That’s why they had the fight back around Christmas, isn’t it?”
“That and the fact that Lucy was basically this huge leech. She was always trying to outdo Paige. Whatever Paige was into, then Lucy had to do it too, only bigger and better. It was like she wanted to be Paige or something. It was weird. Then she went after Paige’s guy. Technically, Paige and Ryan were broken up at the time, but what kind of slut sleeps with a friend’s ex? It was like because Paige had him, she had to.”
“Why didn’t Paige want anyone to know?”
Lindsey sighed. “I’m not sure. I told her we should take that bitch down, but Paige said no. They had it out, and then after that, Lucy kissed her ass. Paige was a bitch to her, but Lucy just took it.” She shrugged. “I figured maybe the whole thing would just blow over.”
“Did Paige ever talk about Lucy’s past?”
Lindsey’s eyebrows drew together in confusion. “Like what?”
Shit. So much for hoping Lindsey would be able to fill in all the gaps.
“I mean, there was something,” Lindsey said. “She told me once after their fight that she wasn’t worried about Lucy anymore because she knew something about her that Lucy would do anything to keep quiet.”
“But she didn’t tell you what it was? A hint—anything?” I strained forward.
Lindsey threw her hands up in the air in frustration. “I don’t know. You’re the one who’s supposed to know everything. But if you want to find out, you should ask your friend Drew.”
I bumped back into the table behind me. “Drew?”
“Yeah. Paige said she was the one who told her.”
My scissors cut through the thick crepe paper. Drew had talked me into helping her and the art crowd make decorations for graduation. They were creating a large painted mural with words like success, dreams, future, and celebration woven into the edges and curves of an elaborate mandala design that would hang along the far wall of the gym for the ceremony. Not to be trusted with the level of detail required for the mural, I’d been assigned cutting out thousands of squares of brightly colored paper that would be strung together and used to decorate the stage. I didn’t mind; the repetitive task gave me time to try and think.
All day my mind had been picking up the things that I knew and moving them around, trying to make sense of all of it. Like turning puzzle pieces to make them fit. Something had happened at Lucy’s old school, something violent. Ryan and Lucy hooked up. What didn’t make sense was why Paige would have forgiven her and made up. Why not tell everyone what Lucy had done? Paige was the victim. Lucy would have been the villain. Sleeping with your fri
end’s boyfriend was total skank territory. Paige had only told people she could trust to keep it secret.
And that didn’t make sense.
I took a peek over at Drew, who was sitting on the ground, focused on her task as she filled in a portion of the mural. How would she have known about Lucy’s past? Drew had always had a bit of a girl crush on the popular crowd. And while she never had pursued her, I knew she liked Paige. I could see her enjoying having a chance to share something to finally connect her to Paige, but what I couldn’t understand is why she hadn’t told me. Not even after Paige went missing. She never mentioned it once. And that wasn’t like her at all.
I made a stack of red squares and then started in on the yellow.
Drew plopped down next to me at the table. “You don’t have to sit here by yourself, you know.”
“It’s fine.” I searched her face, trying to figure out what else I didn’t know.
Drew picked up another pair of scissors and began cutting alongside me. “Anyone else give you a hard time today?”
“No.” It depended what you considered a hard time. Lucy clearly wasn’t the only person who had decided that being psychic wasn’t a cool party trick anymore. No one said anything—it was the way they looked at me as I moved through the halls and sat in class. Like I was a walking bad luck charm.
“You sure you’re okay?” Drew asked.
“You’ve asked me that at least a hundred times.” I focused on the paper I was cutting as if it held the secret of what I should do next.
Drew put down her scissors and turned so we were face-to-face. “I keep asking because I know you’re not fine, no matter what you say. I’m worried.”
“You don’t have to worry about me.” My eyes started to fill with tears.
“I know I don’t have to do anything. I want to. I’m your best friend. You can try and tell me you’re fine, but I can see you’re not. You keep avoiding me.” Her voice was a mix of irritation and worry. “You don’t listen to what I’m saying half the time. It’s like most of you isn’t even here.”
My hands started to shake, and I dropped the scissors on the table before she noticed. “Things are complicated.” That was the understatement of the century. I swallowed over and over.
“Tell me what’s going on.” She rested her cool hand lightly on my arm.
I wanted to tell her. I’d told Drew almost everything in my life. We had years of slumber parties and whispered secrets between us. Even though we had grown apart over the past year, she was still the closest thing I had to a sister. She would understand how things had gotten out of control—that I never wanted this to happen. I just wanted to go with her to New York. I wanted to not let her down. We’d figure this out together.
“Hey.” Drew’s voice was soft, and I realized I was crying.
“I don’t know where to s-s-start,” I stuttered. I could feel all of it bubbling up inside me, ready to boil over. I looked around, trying to tell if anyone was paying attention. “Drew, I—”
“Drew! We need you.” A junior held a paintbrush and a ruler. “Don’t freak out, but I think we got the measurements wrong.”
She looked at them, annoyed. “Just a sec.” She nudged me. “Go ahead, I’m listening.”
I shook my head to clear it. There was no way we could have this discussion here. I needed to get my shit together first. There was part of me that wondered what else she was keeping from me.
“Later,” I said. “I’ve got to work tonight, but I’ll text you tomorrow.”
Drew sighed. “I’m holding you to that.”
Thirty-Five
That night I double-checked the stock in the cooler at the Burger Barn. My mind wasn’t on closing, but if I forgot to call in a reorder and we ran out of ketchup or cheese the next day, my ass would be on the line. Saturday was our busiest day. Gerry didn’t care about real-life emergencies—he cared about ready access to condiments. I checked the clock that hung over the pass-through. It was taking longer than I’d planned.
Tyrone wiped down the grill and then snapped his wet towel in satisfaction. “Damn, that is a pretty thing.” He put his hands on his practically nonexistent skinny hips to admire his handiwork.
Carla leaned her head in. “Till’s balanced, and I filled all the shakers. I’m outta here.”
“See you tomorrow,” Tyrone called after her. He filled a bucket with steaming hot water and a squirt from the giant container of pink industrial cleanser to mop the floors.
“I can do that,” I said. I needed him to go.
He retied the scarf he used to hold back his dreads. “So, you gonna tell me what exactly you got going on?”
Earlier in the shift I’d gotten Tyrone to call Ryan and pretend that he’d heard from a friend he was looking for work and invite him to come down for a quick interview after closing. “I told you,” I said. “It’s just a joke I’m playing on someone.”
“Uh-huh.” His expression broadcast he thought I was full of shit.
“It’s hard to explain.”
“You sure you want to be here alone with some guy? You know there’s a killer out there.” Tyrone swiped the mop back and forth across the floor. I nodded. Tyrone looked me over, then passed me the mop and wiped his hands on his checkered pants. “Fair enough, but be careful.”
“Everything’s fine. I know the guy.” I half expected my nose to grow, Pinocchio-like, with the number of lies I was spewing.
Tyrone fished his motorcycle key out of his pocket. “In my experience, it never hurts to be careful. It’s when you’re sure things are fine, that’s when things can go bad real quick.” He nodded knowingly. He peeled his stained chef jacket off and tossed it into the laundry bag. “Make sure you lock up when you leave, and don’t tell Gerry I left you here alone. He’ll kick my ass.”
I nodded and willed him to move faster than his usual slow amble. As soon as the door clicked shut behind him, I spun the mop around the floor, giving it the barest pass. Gerry would probably complain tomorrow, but it was good enough. I stuffed the coins and bills from my tip pouch into my bag and then checked the clock again.
Where was he?
There was a loud knock on the back kitchen door, and I jumped. I stepped toward it, and then paused. I snatched one of the chef knives from the magnetic holder above the prep station and slid it under my bag on the counter. Better safe than sorry.
I pulled open the door just as Ryan was raising his hand to knock again. He dropped it to his side when he saw me. “You,” he said, his voice flat.
“We need to talk.” I stepped back so he could come in.
“Let me guess—this isn’t about a job.”
“I didn’t think you’d come if you knew it was me.”
“You’re damn right.” He pushed past me and walked around the kitchen as if he was inspecting the place. I stood next to the counter and my bag.
“This way no one sees us together. The cops might be following me, or you. I figure that keeping things quiet is in both of our interests. I have some questions.”
He stopped his inspection and spun to face me. “I don’t owe you shit.” He held up a hand to stop me from speaking. “Last time we met, that didn’t exactly go really well for me.”
“You gave me the bracelet to give to her,” I said.
He nodded. “She’s the kinda girl that requires a sacrifice.” Ryan looked me up and down. “Are you wearing a wire?”
“What?”
“Are you recording this? Trying to trap me into saying something?”
I pulled my shirt up so he could see my bare belly. “I’m not recording anything. Are you?”
He laughed and lifted his shirt, showing off his washboard abs.
“I want to talk because I’m trying to figure out what happened. You knew Paige wasn’t abducted.”
He sighed. “I didn’t know. I suspected.”
“How?”
Ryan rolled his eyes. “Did you know Paige at all?” He walked back and forth a
gain. “She dragged you into this, didn’t she? She musta had something on you.”
“No.”
He smiled. “Ah, so she let you think it was your idea. That you were the lucky one. You must have been upset when things didn’t turn out the way she promised.”
It took a beat for what he was saying to hit home. “You think I did something to her?” I struggled to find the words to explain how absurd that was. “I’m not that kind of person.”
Ryan shrugged. “Most people aren’t the kind of people they like to think they are. You have no idea who I am either.”
“Like the kind of person who cheats?” I fired back.
Ryan took a step forward, his face flushed, and I skittered back, bumping into my bag. The knife fell from the counter and bounced onto the tile floor. I pounced on it before he could grab it.
He held up both hands in surrender. “Whoa. Take it easy.”
I looked down at the knife, surprised to see it in my hands. Ryan was nervous, his gaze switching back and forth from the blade to the back door, calculating if he could make a run for it. A rush of power ran through my body. I was in charge now. “Tell me what happened.”
He backed up until he was against the grill. “Calm down. I never cheated on Paige. She broke up with me. Her dad promised her money for a graduation trip if she dumped me. How’s that for bullshit?”
“Why would her dad do that?”
“Because he’s an asshole?” Ryan ran his hand through his hair. “Look, he never liked me, and he’s used to buying whatever he wants, including the good behavior of everyone around him. I tried to get back together with her, but she wanted that vacation more than me. Then a few weeks after we broke up, her friend Lucy asked to meet me. She said it had something to do with Paige. I met up with her at Comstock Park, and at first she was acting casual, talking about school and stuff. Next thing I knew, she was trying to kiss me, shoving her tongue down my throat, her hands on my ass.”