by Gina Ciocca
“Supposedly kids with failing averages scored ninety percent or better on their last assignments,” Mindy added. “The school’s doing a whole investigation. They told Char they’d knock her punishment down from expulsion to suspension if she came clean.”
“But there’s nothing to come clean about!” Charlie exploded.
“This is ridiculous.” I shot out of my chair and started to pace the room. “They can’t ruin your entire life over something they can’t prove. You’ve never had less than a 3.8 GPA, ever. How dare they accuse you of cheating?”
“I got into the honors program by the skin of my teeth, Marisa. You know that. A few more points and I would’ve been rejected.”
“That’s bullshit. Even on an off day, you got in fair and square, and no one is kicking you out.” I sat down hard. “Don’t worry. We’ll figure this out. Whatever really happened, we’ll get to the bottom of it. You are not getting expelled. Understand?”
Charlie nodded and looked me in the eye. “Please don’t tell anyone,” she said. “Not a word.”
I knew she was thinking of Kendall. “You know I won’t,” I said. “But news like this travels fast, and Kendall is in the same program. I can’t stop her from hearing it through the grapevine.”
“Fine. But don’t be the grape that spills the beans.”
Normally I’d crack up at one of Charlie’s crazy sayings, but I didn’t feel much like laughing. Mindy gathered Charlie’s hair in her hands while Nick rubbed her shoulder. I leaned back in my chair and blew out a long breath. This was huge. If Charlie got expelled, she could kiss college and her reputation goodbye. Years of hard work and good grades would be down the drain.
Suddenly Jordan and TJ and all the other cheating boyfriends of the world seemed very unimportant. I’d thought I was helping people by doing my private-eye routine, but now it seemed stupid. Because when my best friend needed it most, I couldn’t be any use to her at all.
• • •
“I really like this one.” I pointed to a photo of a purple bracelet with thin strips of turquoise woven through its center.
TJ and I sat in the empty yearbook classroom, looking through his portfolio of leatherwork. He had a binder full of photos in lieu of a website, and he’d brought it in so I could choose Christmas gifts for Charlie and Nick. I knew Charlie would swoon over that purple bracelet, since I’d started drooling at the sight of it.
TJ looked over my shoulder. “That’s one of my favorites. I made it for my mother.”
“Charlie would die for this. Purple is her favorite color.”
“Did you know purple dye was once so expensive that only royals could afford it? It was made from sea snails and it took tens of thousands of them to dye one garment. That’s why purple is called the imperial color.” He stopped and cleared his throat, and I wished he’d stop being embarrassed by his own intelligence. “Plus, you know, purple looks great on girls with dark hair.” His eyes darted to my own purple shirt. Then he coughed and looked away, his face reddening. “Um, Charlie didn’t mind me borrowing you at the bonfire, right?”
“Not at all.” As much as I enjoyed making him blush, I fought the urge to tack on, “Nice recovery.”
“She’s not still mad at you, is she?”
I waved off the comment. “No. She has way bigger things to worry about right now.”
“Oh?”
I turned back to the pictures, not sure if I should open my mouth about Charlie’s situation. I’d thought that the less I said about my ties to Templeton the better, but maybe discussing it openly would give me room to pry into his own connections. If he had nothing to hide, doing so shouldn’t be an issue.
“Charlie might be expelled for something she didn’t do. She’s devastated, and her only option is a bogus plea bargain for suspension that will still be on her permanent record.”
TJ leaned back in his chair and rubbed his chin, his eyes dark and pensive. “That’s rough.”
“I know. I feel terrible.”
“It’s not your fault.” He continued to rub at his chin and stare at the far wall of the classroom, like his mind had gone elsewhere.
“It’s not my fault, but the person accusing her is my ex-boyfriend’s mother. I’m embarrassed that I ever associated with them.”
TJ’s eyes snapped into focus and he leaned forward in his chair. “Jordan Pace’s mother?”
Damn it, damn it, damn it.
“How did you know Jordan and I dated?”
“After the way you looked at him when I gave you your belt the other day”—a smirk pulled at the corner of his mouth—“I took an educated guess.”
“That obvious, huh?” My lips twisted. “God, I don’t know how I ever went out with him.”
“No offense, but I’m pretty surprised myself. You have such a level head and his head is jammed up his own ass.”
I snorted. “Believe it or not, he wasn’t like that when we dated—he mellowed out. But he seems to have reverted to his old ways with a vengeance.”
TJ fiddled with a loose screw in the chair next to his. “So your friend. Why did she decide to go to Templeton?”
“She got into the Hartley program. Very hoity-toity, or so I hear.”
“You hear correctly,” he said tightly. “I used to be in it.” I straightened in my chair but before I could press him further, he added, “What’s she being accused of?”
He disappeared into his thoughts again as I explained about Jordan’s mother and her laptop.
“Can’t you talk to him about it?” TJ asked when I’d finished.
“Talk to who? Jordan?” I laughed. “I could try, but it won’t get Charlie anywhere.”
“And there’s no way it could’ve been her?”
“No way. If you knew Charlie, it wouldn’t even be a question.” I paused. “Don’t you know her?”
His eyebrows knitted together. “I know of her.”
“Do you have friends on the football team?”
“Why do you ask?”
Hmm…did I detect a trace of defensiveness?
I looked down at his portfolio and casually flipped the page. “I thought I saw you at one of the Templeton football games a couple weeks ago. I was surprised because it seemed like you wanted to burn your bridges there. But it was dark, and there were a lot of people.” I looked at him. “Maybe it was someone else?” I held his gaze, challenging him. Daring him to lie to me.
He slouched against the chair, folded his arms across his chest, and looked out the window. “Yeah,” he muttered. “That must’ve been it.”
15
I clenched and unclenched my fist while the other hand squeezed the strap of my book bag on my shoulder. I’d been thinking about talking to Jordan on Charlie’s behalf ever since TJ had brought it up, and now that I’d decided to do it, I couldn’t seem to make myself cover the ten feet between where I stood in the hallway and where he stood at his locker.
Despite his declaration that he wanted to be friends, it hadn’t been any less awkward between us. But if he’d meant what he said at all, this was my opportunity to use it to my advantage. Well, Charlie’s advantage.
“Hey,” I said. “Can I talk to you for a second?” I cocked my head in the direction of the exit alcove.
Jordan gave me a curious look but shut his locker and followed me. He leaned against the wall, one sneakered foot pressed up against it, one hand on the strap of his bag, the other in his pocket, like he was posing for a freaking J.Crew catalog. I fought the sudden and intense urge to kick the back of his knee and watch him topple over.
“So I’m sure you heard about the situation with Charlie and your mother.”
“I heard. That’s too bad.”
I gawked at him. “Too bad? Jordan, you know Charlie wouldn’t cheat, let alone steal information and give it to other people. Isn�
�t there something you can do to help her?”
“How, Marisa? Sure, Reiser’s a nice kid, but what’s my mom supposed to think? No other student has touched her laptop except Charlie, and then all of a sudden every moron she teaches starts acing their tests? Maybe it doesn’t make sense, but it adds up.”
My fist curled at my side. “It doesn’t add up, and you know it. You went to school with her long before I did. Charlie’s grades didn’t need a boost and she’d never do something so stupid. You need to defend her. You need to at least try. If you’re really my friend, then please, do that much for me.”
He glanced into the hallway, like he wanted to make sure we weren’t being watched, dropped his bag, and put his hands on my arms, pulling me farther into the niche.
“Listen, Marisa,” he said quietly. “I can try to talk to my mother, but don’t expect miracles. She’s as upset about this as Charlie is.”
“I doubt that.”
“I swear to you, she is. She never would’ve expected Charlie to do something like this—”
“Because she didn’t.”
“Damn it, listen!” He shook me, not hard, but enough to make me raise a warning eyebrow. He let go and leaned against the wall, his jaw set in frustration. “I’m sorry. Like I said, I’ll try.” He picked up his bag. “But I think the best thing for you to do is accept that sometimes when you think you know someone, you really don’t.”
He walked away, leaving me gaping after him. What in the actual freaking hell did he mean by that?
It took me a few beats to gather my bearings and head off to class. But when I should’ve turned left to go to math, I veered to the right and dropped into a seat in the computer lab. I logged into the Busted account and clicked on Sara’s email.
Dear SaraCat42,
I’m very interested in learning more about your case. Please email me details on who you’d like me to investigate and how I’ll need to do it. If we can agree on a plan, we’ll talk.
Reverse Cupid
I signed off using one of Kendall’s corny euphemisms from the website, not sure how else to do it.
By third period, my phone chimed with a response.
Hi RC,
The guy I’m seeing is Jordan Pace and he goes to Herring Cross High. If he’s anything like I’ve heard, you’ve probably hooked up with him already. I don’t care if he looks, but prove to me that he’s touching and shit’s going down. Let’s make that plan A-Sap.
Sara Cat
I sunk in my chair and covered my mouth with my hand. There were so many cringeworthy things in that letter, I couldn’t even. The fact that she’d spelled ASAP phonetically, the fact that she’d used the phrase “go down” after the comment Charlie made about her knees. But when I read it again, one line kept jumping out at me: you’ve probably hooked up with him already.
Could she really know that?
I threw my phone in my bag and tried to pay attention to the teacher before I got in trouble. Of course, it had to be a coincidence that she’d worded it that way. She probably thought she was being cute. Gag. Sara Cat had no way of knowing she was right on the money.
At least that’s what I kept telling myself.
16
While I waited for Sara to tell me more about how to get what she wanted from me regarding Jordan, I decided it was time to really put the smackdown on TJ. My sleuthing had led me nowhere for long enough. I needed a new plan of attack.
When I’d called Kendall to talk over strategies, she moaned about being bored out of her skull so many times that I wound up asking her to meet me for Chinese. She agreed, but only if we got takeout and ate in my car so we wouldn’t be seen together. A healthy dose of eye rolls preceded my order of spring rolls. The good thing was that she gave no indication of having heard about Charlie’s cheating scandal, which must’ve meant she hadn’t. Kendall loved gossip—unless it was about her.
“Doesn’t this remind you of that time in third grade?” she said, shimmying the plastic wrapper off her fork in my passenger seat. “When we ate peanut butter cups in the janitor’s closet?”
“I almost forgot about that!” I laughed, nearly choking on the smell of grease permeating the car’s interior. “The whole school was peanut free because Cory Anderson and Sandy Reyes were allergic. We thought we were such rebels, sneaking in those peanut butter cups.”
“I swear, everything’s better when you’re not supposed to have it.”
And there it was, the whole reason we were even together again.
“I have a question for you,” I said as I lifted a mass of wiggly udon noodles to my mouth. It was a stall tactic, but I didn’t want to start with bad news. “How were you able to make the Busted website so quickly and TJ still doesn’t have one for his leatherwork?”
Kendall rolled her eyes. “It’s not like I haven’t tried, but he’s so picky. He keeps telling me he wants it to look less flashy and more organic, like it’s a bag of carrots and not a damn website. Besides, with the way he’s been acting lately, it’s not high on my list of priorities.”
“Right. Speaking of that—I don’t have bad news, per se, but I definitely think TJ is up to something.” I proceeded to tell her about his strange visitor at the barn the night of Kevin’s party. She sat for a few seconds, not saying a word, poking at her container of brown rice. “Kendall?” I touched her shoulder. “Are you still okay with all this?”
She frowned. “You couldn’t see or hear anything from their conversation?”
“No. And whenever I ask him about anything personal, he clams up and changes the subject.”
“Sounds familiar.” She rested the container on her knee and stared out the window.
“Are you sure you’re okay? We don’t have to do this anymore if you don’t want to.”
Kendall shook her head. “No, I need answers. If we stop now, I either have to break up with him for no good reason, or pretend ignorance is bliss. Ignorance isn’t bliss, Marisa. It’s fucking idiocy. And I don’t want to break up with him.” She sighed and her eyes welled up. Before any tears dared to fall, she gave each eye an angry swipe and sat up straighter, a look of determination replacing the crestfallen expression from a nanosecond ago. “I have an idea.”
“Oh boy. Now I’m scared.”
“Do you have any plans this weekend?” Despite the voice in my head saying This chick is cuckoo, I admitted I didn’t. “Perfect. I’ll ask him to hang out on Friday, and if he accepts, awesome. If he turns me down, then you ask him to make plans that same day and see if he blows you off too.”
I almost gagged on my noodles. “You want me to hit on him now? No way. No, no, no way. I’m willing to follow him. I’m willing to chat him up. I am willing to hang out in his barn and wait for strange people to show up. I am not willing to use myself as bait.”
Kendall scooted so close so quickly I thought she might land in my lap. “No, you’ve got it all wrong. We already know he’s avoiding me and that there’s someone else in the picture who’s not you or me. I need to test his priorities. If he blows me off, it’s probably for whoever this other person is. If he blows me off but accepts your invitation, then maybe it means he’s desperate to be with anyone but me.” She must’ve realized how that sounded, because she blinked a couple times and added, “No offense.”
“None taken. But if he’s so desperate not to be with you, then why not break up with you?”
Her shoulders sagged. “I don’t know. Every time I think we’re getting back to the way we used to be, he shuts down again.”
“I hear that.” I slurped another noodle. “Do you know why he’s so bitter toward your school?”
Kendall shifted in the passenger seat, positioning herself against the door. Something in her demeanor shifted, like a wall had gone up. Her posture went rigid and she avoided my eyes.
“If he’s bitter about Temple
ton, I don’t know why. And it has nothing to do with what I asked you to find out.” She shoved a forkful of rice and chicken into her mouth and turned to look out the window, chewing in silence.
Well then. Kendall had clammed up the same way TJ did at the mention of his transfer. Were they both hiding something? My curiosity got the better of me and I curled a hand around the steering wheel until my knuckles went white, knowing I’d probably regret the next words out of my mouth.
“I’ll make it clear that it’s not a romantic thing if I invite him to hang out. I’ll ask him to teach me how to make leather jewelry.”
Kendall turned back to me with a small smile, the wall gone. “He does amazing work, doesn’t he?”
I lifted my coat. “Hell yes. He made this out of the leftovers from his belt.”
The smile fell from her face. “He made you a belt?”
Oops. I should’ve known that wouldn’t go over well.
“He didn’t make it for me. He had extra leather and I’d complimented his, so he used the scraps to make one like it. That’s all.” There. I hoped making it sound like my belt had been a Dumpster dive would keep her jealousy at bay.
Kendall took one look at my waist and let out a loud laugh. “Oh my God, Marisa, I’m so sorry. You don’t have to wear that if you don’t want to.”
I wrinkled my nose in confusion. “What do you mean?”
“I mean you don’t have to walk around looking like a dominatrix so you won’t hurt TJ’s feelings! Really, out of all the beautiful things he is capable of making? All you need is a whip and some thigh-high boots!” She threw her head back and guffawed.
“Um, I like this belt. A lot.”
Kendall choked back her laughter and cleared her throat. “Oh. Then by all means, totally forget I said anything.”
Okay. I recognized this. This display was nothing more than her reaction to Mike Kimball all over again. In fourth grade, I’d had a huge crush on him. Kendall constantly stuck up her nose at my lovesick doodling and told me he was ugly and had buckteeth. She made me feel silly for liking him and even sillier for being beside myself with glee when I heard he liked me back. Then Valentine’s Day came along, and whaddya know, someone with handwriting exactly like Kendall’s left a huge, heart-shaped card on Mike’s chair. She never copped to it, but the two of them got in trouble for holding hands during an assembly later that week. She’d gotten me to give up what I wanted by tricking me into thinking I shouldn’t want it, and then she’d snatched it for herself.