His smile was tight, like he was fighting it at first. But it slowly fought its way across his lips like a line being drawn. Maggie noted he had nicer lips than his brother, then, realizing she was looking at his lips, she jerked her head around to stare at the yellow lines on the road.He snorted a little at her obvious embarrassment.
“So I take it your second day wasn’t as bad as your first?”
“Well, on the one hand,” she pretended to contemplate it seriously, “There was no near death experience or total humiliation.”
“Right,” he nodded. “And I see you got a date,” he added quickly.
“Yeah…that was awkward.”
“Why?”
“He’s never even really spoken to me.”
“You just got here.”
“Still. I don’t know. It wasn’t as bad as yesterday, but…”
“But?” She really thought the inflection she heard in his voice was hopeful.
“But,” she braved looking at him, trying not to blush. She chickened out. “No pie.”
“True.” He nodded seriously, then laughed.
Disappointed in herself, she saw her chance had passed to truly flirt. They drove down Mulberry Street in silence. She grabbed her things, getting ready to hop out. With her hand on the door handle, her escape route, the vehicle came to a stop, which made her feel brave again.
“And don’t get me wrong, Becca and the girls are nice, but I’ve had better company.”
His strange look and that sad smile came again. “See you tomorrow, Margaret.” His low voice crawled out of the cab behind her, but he stayed inside.
“See you.”
It was her first opportunity to do homework that night. It took all her time. She had dinner from the microwave again, and when her mom came in she was quiet, and drank more wine than usual. Maggie knew better than to ask. She wouldn’t be allowed to talk to about her work. Not yet at least.
“Got a date tomorrow,” she announced, leaning in the doorway of the den in her pajamas.
Her mom’s smile was a little sloppy. “Tyler?” She pointed slowly, squinting as she tried to remember. She was good with names.
“Mark.”
“Mark?”
“Quarterback. I didn’t want to say yes.”
“Then why did you?”
“I didn’t want to say no.”
“Look,” she stood slowly. “Be safe going out with this guy, okay?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, if your instincts weren’t good, follow them. Stay in public. Watch him. Don’t drink. The usual.” She picked up her glass to finish the rest of the red elixir swirling in it, but seemed to have a second thought and put it down. “Take your meds?”
“Yes.”
“Goodnight.”
“Goodnight.” Maggie felt a nagging, like something nibbling on her gut. It nibbled all night, making it hard to sleep.
She had even more trouble getting up the next morning. Partially out of laziness, she put on the outfit her mom had picked. She put on a little more makeup to cover the circles under her eyes. She felt weird, even with the extra-long top, without wearing pants.
Becca seemed pleased with it though; again, she was accepted. But it was starting to be less thrilling each time. She stared out the window on the drive, smiling and nodding at Becca’s chatter. As the conversation began to die and the school came into sight, she couldn’t contain it anymore.The words literally burst out of her, like air exploding from your lungs after being underwater. “What happened to her?”
Becca balked at her, frowning a little to see if she was serious. Maggie clamped a hand over her mouth. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have.”
“No, it’s okay,” Becca said, pulling into the parking lot. “She was killed. Hit and run.”
“Who did it?”
“No one knows yet,” Becca shrugged. “It could have been anyone.”
And for some reason, when she said that, Maggie realized the meaning behind the silence around her locker, behind Becca and Tommy’s grief and frustration. For the murmurs in the subdued hallways. She remembered the kid in the hallway saying Amanda was angry when the tornado hit the school. The kid who liked blood. It could be anyone.
She recalled Mazy’s strange laughter, the way she had said it had been a week and people needed to get over it. She remembered Becca’s words about her friend: she could be smart when she wanted something, a plotter. It could be anyone.
Then, there was the small boulder. The guy acting strangely. The guy she had a date with that evening, the one that gave her an uneasy feeling.
“I don’t take rejection well, Maggie,” he had said.
It could be anyone.
It could be Mark.
Chapter Five
Notes from the Dead
“Enjoy breakfast?” Tommy asked, when Maggie and Becca walked in that morning.
Becca just stared at him quizzically. “I don’t eat breakfast,” she said.
“Maggie didn’t make you breakfast? Oh, guess it’s just me then.” He winked.
Maggie shoved her face in her locker, its cool darkness calming the fierce blush she was shamefully hiding.
She had no excuse for it. She tried to think of one as she stacked her things and restacked them. Nope, she had nothing, so she pretended to fiddle with her papers looking for something as she heard Becca walk away. A quick glance to her left revealed Becca watching her, her face puzzled.
Maggie offered her a small smile which was returned with some effort before she disappeared again into the shelter of her locker just as the bell rang. She fumbled even more vigorously for nothing as the hall emptied, not daring to come out yet.
Then, a sheet of paper, folded once, drifted down to the floor. Maggie frowned at it, trying to recall folding a wide ruled piece of paper. She only had college ruled.
Before she could empty her hands and bend down to get it, a hand intercepted hers and brought it up. Tommy’s hand. She switched the books to her other hip, shutting her locker with a sigh and inadvertently breathing in Tommy’s scent.
He smiled. “This what you’re looking for?” He held the folded paper inches from her face. He must have been watching her whole fake search, she realized.
“Thanks!” She took it from him.
He did not turn to leave right away. “Look, I know you’ve got your date with Mark tonight.”
Her stomach tightened into a sailor’s knot and pulled tight. She almost grunted.
“But I also know he can be a little…much. I’d just feel better if you had my number. That way, if things aren’t going well, I can call you and pretend to be your mom or something, give you an out.”
She nodded, trying not to look as excited as her pulse. “Thanks.” It was almost a question.
“That’s what friends are for, right?” Great. Friends.
She was making a lot of those lately, so she guessed she shouldn’t complain, but things still weren’t going right. She should be going out with Tommy, she thought, as she entered his number into her phone and texted it. But of course, if things really were right, and someone had not hit and killed his girlfriend a week ago, she wouldn’t be dating him then either. The last bell rang. She was late.
“See you!” She dashed away.
“Good luck!”
That was not promising.
She crept in after Mr. Garrett had started talking. He shot her a grumpy look, but it wasn’t grumpier than usual, and he didn’t say a word, allowing her to take her seat. After forty minutes of hurriedly taking notes she could barely read, she did not dare hang around to apologize to Mr. Garrett for being late or she risked running late to Penderghast, who probably wouldn’t let the first time slide as easily. But she made a note to talk to him later. So far, he was her favorite teacher.
Chemistry took her full attention; she didn’t have time to think of anything else. Penderghast liked to stand behind Maggie while she tried to work, which made her nervous. She made a mista
ke with the temperature on one of her burners, causing some fumes and a mark on the tube. Penderghast audibly huffed, diving in before Maggie had a chance to fix her own error.
“Are you sure you were placed correctly? What counted as AP in Texas?”
Maggie balked at her, tears of embarrassment racing against some colorful language to see which would escape her body first. But something stopped them both.
“That’s rude,” a calm voice stated, taking Penderghast aback. For a moment, it was difficult to see who said it, since their lips were no longer moving and everyone was staring at the pair of them.
“Well,” Penderghast attempted, her mouth sort of bubbling with angry sighs and half-words.
“Well,” Becca made her face more beautiful than Penderghast would ever achieve and at the same time sort of sneering. “Maybe if you got off her back, she could do it. You do want her to learn this stuff, right?”
Again, the mouth snapped open and shut with a crisp pop, pop. Maggie tried to hold back a snicker. Penderghast glared at Maggie, eyes fiery, who was at a loss. She hadn’t even said anything. The bell rang and everyone exited gratefully.
Becca waited on Maggie at the door, though she certainly did not have to wait long.
“Thanks.”
“She had it coming. That woman is an infernal bitch. She needs to get laid or something.”
“Who’s an infernal bitch?” Mazy appeared.
“Penderghast.” Becca caught her up.
“I’ll second that,” Mazy agreed.
“She’s rude to everyone, but she was practically picking on Maggie again last class. I’d had it.” Becca shrugged one shoulder, beautiful dark hair falling.
“Who was picking on Maggie?” Sarah joined them as they entered the cafeteria.
“That evil Penderghast,” Mazy told her.
“Ugh.” Sarah made a face.
“More like Pendragon,” Maggie shot. It wasn’t even a good joke, really, but they seemed to like it, giggling a lot.
“That’s brilliant, Mags!” Mazy admitted. “I’m never calling that creature anything else.”
“She tried to fail Mazy,” Becca whispered, grabbing a milk.
“Who cares what she thinks of you anyway?” Mazy went on. “It’s our opinion that matters. Besides, you can’t trust the judgment of anyone who thought that haircut actually looked good.” Even Maggie chuckled at that.
“How is the prep for Homecoming going?” she asked Sarah.
Sarah blew out a breath, still smiling prettily, to show how busy things were getting as the game got closer. “Crazy, but they’ll get done.”
“Need any help?” Mags grabbed a fruit cup, popping a strawberry into her mouth as she spoke.
“Yeah! If you’re willing.” She seemed really pleased, while Maggie noticed Mazy eyeing her as if they were opponents in a game. Apparently, volunteering to help was a social move in this new world—one Mazy saw as competition.
“Well, I’m busy this afternoon, but tomorrow I’m free.” Sitting her tray down, she chanced a glance towards Tommy. He was looking at her. He looked back to his table, smiling a little and talking to his brother and friends. But he had been looking at her.
“What are you doing this afternoon?” Mazy’s pointy little nose seemed to lead her as she leaned closer to their conversation and they took their seats at the small table they always chose.
Becca saved her from answering: “I could use your help getting some stuff ready for the pep rally; that will free you up, Sarah, to focus on the dance.”
“Okay,” Sarah agreed after thinking for a moment.
“Becca doesn’t like to share you with anyone,” Mazy teased, but Maggie could tell she was jealous. “Who is she sharing you with this afternoon?” the small brunette persisted.
“Oh, I sort of have a dat,” she mumbled, taking a bite immediately, wishing lunch still didn’t have nearly half an hour.
Mazy laughed again.
Maggie couldn’t help but stop eating, remembering the last time she had heard that sound. When the girl had hit Mazy. Mazy had prodded her, pushed her, by putting those things in Mark’s locker.
“How do you sort of have a date?” She arched one eyebrow. It might have been pretty, Mags thought, if she didn’t look so dangerously on the brink of rage.
Maggie shrugged, trying to downplay it. “Yeah, just a casual thing with Mark.”
“Mark Reynolds?”
She looked to Becca to confirm. She didn’t even know this kid’s last name, she realized. Becca nodded. “Yep,” Maggie told her, popping a grape in her mouth and looking down with a shake of her head.“That’s the one.”
“Not bad, Brennan.” Mazy tried too hard to seem unbothered, even pleased. “Better watch out for Ashley, though.”
“Yeah, thanks.”
“And Mark, for that matter.” She made a little face, poking her salad.
“What about Mark?” Sarah spoke up first. Well, Mark was at least right about her sticking up for friends.
Mazy shrugged, her confidence taken down a notch. “He just can be a little forward on a date.”
“You’ve dated him?” Maggie blurted. Mazy’s smile curled across her face.
“Almost everyone has,” she laughed, nodding to Becca.
Becca nodded, seeming to care less.
“Not me,” Sarah said simply.
“I didn’t want to step on anyone’s toes. I just didn’t want to turn him down,” Maggie explained to the table.
“Oh yeah, he’s hard to say no to,” Mazy said, stirring her yogurt without eating it. She seemed earnest then.
Maggie knew what was coming. She had the overwhelming feeling she was about to say something stupid. She couldn’t think of anything cool to say, so she suddenly remembered the only escape she possibly had.
“Oh, I forgot something! See you later.” She grabbed her tray and hurried off. Sarah and Becca offered forced smiles of goodbye. Mazy waved, smiled broadly and waited until Maggie was already several feet away from the table before calling, “Enjoy your date!”
Maggie cringed. Everyone had heard that.
The halls outside the cafeteria, however, were gloriously silent. She walked slowly to Mr. Garrett’s classroom, thinking about her mess of a day. She ended up just thinking about Tommy. He was looking at her...but he said “just friends”... but he looked mad when Mark asked her out...but he hadn’t asked her out...but maybe it had been a test to see if she would turn him down... but the poor kid was grieving!
She was so absorbed that she forgot to knock when she entered Mr. Garrett’s classroom.
There was a familiar sound she could not place at first that suddenly cut off as she entered. Mr. Garrett had his back to her, standing at his desk. But when he turned, his face shocked and grumpy, she could see he was not alone. And she realized what the soft sound had been.
She knew the shock on her face was evident. She tried to say something, but just left her mouth hanging open, swinging her head side-to-side in slow motion, but no words came for a long minute. Askew clothes were straightened, faces flooded with blushes.
“Sorry!” she gasped out, then ran shamelessly from the room. She kept running all the way back to her locker.
Breathless, she put her back against the cool, uneven surface of her locker and sank to the floor. Her face burned now, so she pressed it against the metal for relief. The only sound was that of her breathing, panting actually. She was the only body in the corridor for a few more minutes, so she stayed at her locker and tried to process everything.
But it wasn’t really her locker, she was reminded. It was Amanda’s locker. Tommy was Amanda’s and Becca was Amanda’s and so was this locker.
But no, she reminded herself. It had been hers.
Wait, it had been hers.
It was the first moment alone to think about the piece of paper that had fallen out of the locker that morning. It wasn’t hers, but this used to be someone else’s locker. The note had fall
en from the top. She stood, opening the locker door and peering up. A small crooked piece of metal, almost flat against the top, was the perfect place to hide a note. You’d never know to look unless you knew it was there.
Amanda had known it was there, she bet.
Whoever had cleaned out her locker had not.
But Tommy had cleaned out her locker. Wouldn’t he know to check his girlfriend’s hiding place?
Telling herself it was probably blank, probably Amanda’s, forgotten, Maggie retrieved the folded sheet of paper and took a deep breath before opening it.
It was Amanda’s. She knew before she read it because it smelled different—a classy, sweet perfume. It smelled, she guessed, like Amanda.
Amanda, See you tonight? – M.
What. The. Hell.
Who was M? And when was this letter put there?
If Amanda hadn’t taken it out yet, it was probably the last letter in there. When was “tonight”? Could it be the night she was killed? Is it possible that it wasn’t an accident?
The shrill scream of the bell made her jump.
Maggie slammed her locker shut angrily. She flipped the note around, inspecting every inch of it for a trace of something else. She sniffed it again, committing the scent to memory. Then, she pocketed it and left the hallway before she could bump into anyone else.
Maggie never could remember the War of 1812, and it looked like she wasn’t about to learn it today. Thinking of what her mom would do, she veered off and quickly found the library. Time to think like a detective.
First thing was to find an isolated computer. That was easy; there were only a couple people in there. Problem was, the librarian’s desk was behind them, so she could monitor what everyone was looking at. Maggie pulled up a Wikipedia page as a cover: The War of 1812.
She knew she should read it, but the current search was just so demanding. George Washington or whoever would surely understand. Curiosity was a sign of intelligence, right?
There had to be a town paper, but she had no idea what it was called. A glance around showed nothing, so she tried a search engine: Amanda, the date, hit and run, the town name; eventually, she found what she was looking for. The result was from a bigger paper from the city where her mom worked. Casting a look over her shoulder, she read it fast, nose too close to the screen.
Keep Your Friends Close Page 6