Best Friends Never
Page 1
Table of Contents
Legal Page
Title Page
Book Description
Dedication
Trademarks Acknowledgmentv
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
New Excerpt
About the Author
Publisher Page
Best Friends Never
ISBN # 978-1-78430-755-4
©Copyright Isabelle Drake 2016
Cover Art by Posh Gosh ©Copyright February 2016
Edited by Ann Leveille
Finch Books
This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or otherwise without the written permission of the publisher, Finch Books.
Applications should be addressed in the first instance, in writing, to Finch Books. Unauthorised or restricted acts in relation to this publication may result in civil proceedings and/or criminal prosecution.
The author and illustrator have asserted their respective rights under the Copyright Designs and Patents Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book and illustrator of the artwork.
Published in 2016 by Finch Books, Newland House, The Point, Weaver Road, Lincoln, LN6 3QN
Finch Books is a subsidiary of Totally Entwined Group Limited.
Cherry Grove
BEST FRIENDS NEVER
Isabelle Drake
Book one in the Cherry Grove series
Be careful who you keep secrets with, especially in picture-perfect Cherry Grove, a place where average isn’t good enough, and nothing is what it seems.
Lexi Welks wants two things—respect and a college acceptance letter that’ll get her out of too-good-to-be-true Cherry Grove. The problem is that the nasty, life-ruining secret she shares with Monica Sanders is about to go public. If their ugly truth comes out, her plans for college—not happening. And that’s only the beginning of her end.
Monica is the kind of student teachers adore—well-behaved, hard-working and always following the rules. She’s the kind of friend other girls follow—well-dressed, popular and always knowing the right thing to do. If only they knew the truth about her. The truth Lexi found out the hard way, after spending the past summer letting Monica talk her into doing things she knew could come back to ruin her.
Now it’s the first week of school and one of the seniors is missing. Lexi knows a thing or two about the circumstances of his disappearance, but she’s not talking. Neither is Monica. But wicked truths have a way of crawling to the surface and tearing through the most careful plans.
Dedication
For Walter Anthony Lucken IV
Thank you for rescuing me, on more than one occasion, from crying into my Diet Coke alone.
Trademarks Acknowledgment
The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:
Diet Coke: Coca-Cola Company
Glee: Twentieth Century Fox Film Corporation
Nissan: Nissan Jidosha Kabushiki Kaisha TA Nissan Motor Co., Ltd
Volvo: Volvo Trademark Holding AB Corporation
Diet Pepsi: Pepsico, Inc
Roundup: Monsanto Technology LLC
Little Shop of Horrors: Warner Bros
ACT: ACT, Inc.
7-Eleven: 7-Eleven, Inc.
D.A.R.E.: D.A.R.E. American Corporation
Clearasil: Reckitt Benckiser LLC
Vans: Vans, Inc.
Etnies: Senizergues, Pierre-Andre Individual by Assignment
Ralph Lauren: PRL Holdings Inc.
Facebook: Facebook Inc
Home Channel: Amazing New Home Show Productions, Inc
White Linen: Estee Lauder Inc.
Saturn: Saturn Corporation/General Motors Inc.
Hamburger Helper: General Mills, Inc.
Twitter: Twitter, Inc
AP Spanish: College Entrance Examination Board
Bic: Societe Bic societe anonyme France
National Honor Society: National Association of Secondary School Principals, Inc.
YouTube: Google, Inc.
H2: AM General LLC Corporation
Hanes: HBI Branded Apparel Limited, Inc
iPod: Apple Inc
Impala: General Motors LLC
Abercrombie: Abercrombie & Fitch Trading Co.
Little League: Little League Baseball, Incorporated Federal Membership Corporation
Axe: Conopco, Inc
VW: Volkswagen Aktiengesellschaft Corporation
Lacoste: Lacoste Alligator S.A. Corporation
Anthropologie: Urban Outfitters Wholesale, Inc.
J. Crew: J. Crew International, Inc.
All Stars: Converse Inc
U of Mich: Regents of the University of Michigan Corporation
Speedo: Speedo Holdings BV Corporation
Barnes & Noble: Barnes & Noble Booksellers, Inc
Starbucks: Starbucks Corporation DBA Starbucks Coffee Company
Williams Sonoma: Williams-Sonoma, Inc
Mustang: Ford Motor Company
Sebring: FCA US LLC
SpongeBob: Viacom International Inc.
Marc Jacobs: Marc Jacobs Trademarks L.L.C.
Ann Taylor: Annco, Inc
Polo.com: PRL Holdings, Inc
Burberry: Burberry Limited Registered Corporation
Chevelle: General Motors LLC
Lucky Brand: Lucky Brand Dungarees, Inc
Mickey D’s: McDonald’s Corporation
Sweet Caroline: Neil Diamond
Lily Allen: Lily Cooper, c/o Lee & Thompson Individual
Calvin Klein: Calvin Klein Trademark Trust Corporation
Coke: Coca-Cola Company
Law & Order: Studios USA Television Distribution LLC
Wayne State: Wayne State University Not-For-Profit Corporation
Old Navy: Old Navy (Apparel) LLC
Gatorade: Stokely-Van Vamp, Inc
Nike: Nike, Inc
America’s Next Top Model: Pottle Productions, Inc
Champion: HBI Branded Apparel Enterprises, LLC
Welcome Wagon: Welcome Wagon International, Inc
Jerry Springer: Universal TV LLC
Blair Witch: Lions Gate Entertainment
Acura: Honda Giken Kogyo Kabushiki Kaisha Corporation
Ford: Ford Motor Company
World of Warcraft: Blizzard Entertainment, Inc.
League of Legends: Riot Games, Inc.
Samsung: Samsung Electronics Co., Ltd
Salvation Army: Salvation Army, The Corporation
Instagram: Instagram, Inc.
Tigers: Detroit Tigers Inc
Jeep Wrangler: FCA US LLC
Red Monkey: Pendergrass, Torry Individual
Jetta: Volkswagen Aktiengesellschaft Corporation
Honda Fit: Honda Motor Co., Ltd
Frozen: Walt Disney Pictures
Chanel No. 5: Chanel, Inc
VW Beetle: Volkswagen Aktiengesellschaft Corporation
Styrofoam: Dow Chemical
Company
Chapter One
It Doesn’t Matter How You Play the Game, Only Whether You Win or Lose
Blood red.
And death black.
Whoever picked out Cherry Grove High’s school colors was an idiot.
Either that or a serial killer.
The hideous color combination blurred across the gym floor, spinning in the cheerleaders’ skirts, bouncing in the pom squad pom-poms and slicing through the air in the quivering band banners. Except for the bizarre Goth meets Glee effect, the scene was flawless. Even the shouts echoing off the walls were just right.
Outside, beyond the gleaming floor-to-ceiling windows and careful flowerbeds, past the student parking lot dotted with Nissans, Volvos and European SUVs, early autumn trees shaded the tidy streets with the first brush of rust, orange and red leaves. It was Cherry Grove after all—anything less than perfection would be inconceivable.
The bleachers were jammed with students, some actually excited about the annual back-to-school pep assembly, the rest just screaming like mad, glad for the chance to be crazy on the first Friday afternoon of the new school year.
From her spot at the boosters table, Lexi Welks could see it all. The teachers huddled in the corner by the wrestling mats drinking Diet Pepsis and eating popcorn, the basketball players lined up under the net, shoving each other, wanting to be the one standing closest to the podium, and the mini-mob of freshmen trying to squeeze themselves into the tiny niche that led to the empty space behind the bleachers. Apart from the chaos stood the football team, arms folded over their Cherry Grove jerseys and looking like they’d rather be anywhere but where they were—right in the center of the attention.
“Here’s your baseball fundraiser auction sign-up sheet.”
Monica Sanders, coming up out of nowhere like a giant weed that not even the deadliest dose of Roundup could get rid of. One of the wicked plants from Little Shop of Horrors.
Only this plant had a nonstop figure wrapped up in a come-screw-me black turtleneck. Half the guys in the school wanted a piece of her. The rest wanted her ACT scores.
Lexi?
Up until a week ago, she and Monica had been friends. And now Lexi was paying the price for what had seemed like fun at the time.
Monica looked over Lexi’s shoulder, waved at basketball center Eric Watson, then came back with a careful smile, showing off her bleached teeth as she slid into an empty chair. “Not that the sign-up is going to do you any good. You know, with next year.”
Lexi took the sheet, dropping it onto the table as though she wasn’t the least bit concerned. Which, of course, was a huge lie. Because getting the right names on that single sheet of paper would change her whole life.
“Can I have your attention? Students?” Dr. Guerra, the superintendent, tapped on the microphone, sending out a series of heart-thumping thuds.
It worked—even the cheerleaders shut up, dropping to the floor to sit cross-legged like a row of overgrown preschoolers. “We need a moment before we get started with the pep assembly. Could everyone please welcome Officer Davenport from the Cherry Grove Police Station?”
“Where else would he be from?” one of the newspaper nerds muttered. “7-Eleven?”
The cop slid behind the mic, adjusting his navy blue uniform tie while he waited for the losers in the back rows to catch on to the idea that he had something other than the D.A.R.E. essay winners to announce. Once the room fell silent, he started talking about Jon Eagle, the kid who’d gone missing a couple of days before. Each word out of his mouth made the knots in Lexi’s stomach pull tighter as images of that night skittered through her mind.
“We’ve been checking leads and retracing Jon’s steps. We’re in constant contact with his family—they’ll be informed as we uncover substantial information.” He flattened his square palm across his jacket lapel, pausing dramatically as he looked out at the faces. “We know how distressing this is for you all, for all of us. For those of you who’d like someone to talk with, your lead counselor, Mrs. Howell, has added appointments before and after school. She’s assured me and all your parents that she’ll do anything she can to help you through this difficult time.”
Monica took out her pretty pink leather-bound planner and wrote down the officer’s name. Then she waited, pen poised, for anything else noteworthy.
“Please keep in mind,” he continued, “that we have no evidence of foul play at this time. There is no reason to believe that anyone else is in danger.” He went on to add that the detective in charge thought that Jon had been in touch with kids who, for some reason, were choosing not to tell anyone. “If that’s the case, we urge you to come forward at this time.” Contact information flashed from the huge ceiling-mounted projector onto the wall behind the podium. Lexi barely held in her roll of nausea as Monica jotted down the counselor hours, the hotline phone number and email address with one hand, all the while texting with her other.
But that was Monica Sanders. Smart. Capable. Efficient. And a real self-serving jerk. Too bad it had taken Lexi three months to figure it out.
“Thank you for your attention.” Dr. Guerra was back at the mic, struggling to say something press and parent friendly. “If we all work together, we might… Maybe we’ll… Jon might…” Thank God she finally gave up, because while two band geeks in the front row were snapping pics, some of the yearbook girls over by the art teacher were starting to cry. A cloud of awkward silence filled the gym, everyone’s face tense. Everyone’s except Monica’s. She was dumping her stuff back into her bag and getting to her feet, all while looking as fresh and fantastic as ever.
“Taylor told me to ask you if you had questions about the sign-up,” she said as she pushed the chair back. This time she wasn’t even bothering to hold on to that flawless, fake smile.
“You mean like why are you even bothering with yours?” Lexi tapped her own sheet with her finger. “Because all the names that matter are going right here.”
Monica practically snorted as she spun on her heels, swinging away without a reply.
Lexi watched the girl’s model-perfect ass until she ducked through the red and black cluster of drumline kids clogging the double doors at the end of the gym.
Once she was sure the girl was gone for good she picked up the sheet, staring at the empty rows and imagining the names she needed scrawled across those blank lines. Planning how she’d get them there. And fighting back the fear of what Monica would do when she did.
* * * *
Something about Ash Carpenter set him apart from the other guys at Cherry Grove. Every last one of them stressed about each mundane detail of their self-absorbed lives, going through entire tubes of Clearasil picking between Vans or Etnies, Samsung or iPhone, but Ash had everything under control. Strategic. Even doing something as dull as walking across his kitchen, he looked like he could handle anything. And the fitted black T-shirt he was wearing made the watching that much better. Sure, he looked good in those tight baseball uniform pants, but the snug T-shirt showed off his hard-looking biceps and shoulders.
The lemon glow from inside the stainless steel fridge blinked as he ducked down to pull out a carton of chocolate milk. After several gulps, he leaned on the shiny silver door, slanting a sexy, boyish grin at Lexi. “You don’t care about me asking you over last minute, right? It’s hard to talk at school, and everything was so crazy after the pep assembly, ya know? I think that cop stressed everyone out so badly, they just rushed for the doors once it was over. I know I was glad to get out of there, get away from all the drama.” He lifted his eyebrows. “As soon as I got in my car I thought of you. That’s when I sent the text.”
The out-of-nowhere invite had made her curious, but considering the circumstances—and the auction sign-up sheet tucked in her bag—she wasn’t about to waste time with questions. “No worries about it being last minute.” She flashed him her best video girl smile. “I’m just glad you did.”
Stretching forward, letting her red, res
cued-from-the-clearance-rack Ralph Lauren sweater pull tight across her 34Bs, she rested her elbows on the huge oak table. “Will your mom be home soon?”
Still holding the carton, Ash shoved the fridge door shut, stepped over to toss his long leg across one of the round-backed oak chairs, and sat.
“Don’t know.” He took another drink, wiping his full lips with his knuckles after he swallowed. “I don’t have to tell her where I’ll be or what I’m doing. She knows I can handle myself.”
Lexi’s gaze locked with his and a wave of uncertainty washed over her. What went on behind those long-lashed green eyes? Most of the time he was pretty much the typical jock—friendly but not all that open, smart but not so smart people thought he was weird. Was there more to him than he let on?
One thing was for sure—he’d come a long way since his World of Warcraft middle school days. Even went so far as to change all his friends. Now everyone at school talked about what an awesome guy he was, but the chatter was always vague. Like the new group he hung with never got inside his head.
What that meant to Lexi was that she had nothing to go on, no tidbits of useful gossip to guide her, help her pinpoint the best way to get what she needed from him—a simple signature on a sheet of paper. She looked around the kitchen, but there was nothing hanging on the fridge or sitting on the counter that revealed a private side of Ash. Nothing, until she spotted a stuffed squirrel perched on top of the corner cabinet, its beady glass eyes staring down at them. Creepy. But it was the only thing she had, so she pointed up. “Cute taxidermy. You make that in science club with your dad?”
Ash didn’t turn to look where she was pointing. “Nope. My dad’s favorite student did.”
Lexi tried a giggle. “You had to be his favorite.”
“No, I wasn’t,” Ash replied, his voice flat, his expression unchanging. “Never once in all the years he was in charge of the science club did he ever say I was his favorite.” Ash shifted to look up at the squirrel, staring at it for a while before speaking again. “The science club building has been closed up ever since my dad died. Not even the favorite student gets to play mad scientist anymore.”