Part 8 (1/2)
”Did you do that before or after your dad disappeared?”
”After.”
She reddens with frustration. ”You know, I find it highly suspicious that you were at a party Laden Miller attended and then he disappeared. And there were witnesses that said they saw you peeling off in your car right after Laden drove away with another girl.”
Witnesses? ”My mom has a strict curfew,” I lie, but not very well.
She sifts through the notepad. ”Actually, if I read the note in the file right, your mother's a pretty inactive parent. In fact, she gave up her custody of you and sent you to live with your father when you were four.”
”Well, she still likes me home at a certain time.” I make an effort not to fidget, or she'll use it against me.
Her eyes scrutinize me. ”Where were you between the hours of two to four a.m. on Sat.u.r.day?”
Cras.h.i.+ng into a lake, drawing crazy notes on my wall, blacking out. s.h.i.+t! ”I was with Asher Morgan all night.”
Her eyebrows arch. ”And he is?”
”A friend of mine.” I'm digging myself a giant, coffin-sized hole.
Thankfully, the lunch bell rings. She writes Asher Morgan down at the top of the notebook and then tucks it in her pocket. Then she hands me her card. ”We'll be in touch.”
I take the card, stuff it into my back pocket, and leave the office, not looking back.
Chapter 7.
Everyone in the school is calling Laden's disappearance the Angel of Death Killing. The rumor spread about the detective interrogating me. It's like I've relapsed back to three years ago, right after my dad vanished. The halls are fluttering with whispers of ”Freak,” Psychopath,” and ”Murderer.” But I walk with my head held high. A little gossip and dirty looks is nothing compared to being plagued by death every day.
Raven still hasn't shown up at school and she hasn't called or replied to any of my texts, so I go to the cafeteria solo, crossing my fingers I'll make it out alive. I'm waiting in line, when Mackenzie Baker comes brus.h.i.+ng by, knocks her shoulder into mine, and nearly breaks a high heel trying to recover her balance. Ropes bind her wrist and mouth. Darkness devours her. Come out, come out, wherever you are. It's a game and Mackenzie loses, lost in a sea of blood. I've seen her death before and it never gets easier.
”You better watch it,” she says with edginess in her tone.
I stare at her expressionlessly and don't utter a word. She flips her hair and quickly returns to the conversation with her cl.u.s.ter of friends as they head for the tables.
”So was I right?” The soft touch of Cameron's voice sends a rush of adrenaline through my body.
I step back and elongate the distance between us. ”Were you right about what?”
”About your poem,” he says with a charming smile.
”You think I'm in pain?” I move forward with the movement of the line.
”I think your heart carries a lot of pain.” He steps forward. ”But that you hide it, just like you hide a lot of things.”
He's striking a nerve. ”Isn't everyone hiding something?” I ask.
”Now those are the words of a true writer.” He reaches behind me, missing my arm by an inch, and grabs a tray. ”But the question is, what are you hiding, Ember?”
There's accusation in his tone-he's heard the rumors. ”Bodies in the bas.e.m.e.nt of my house and a burner full of ashes,” I say darkly.
He's unfazed. ”Weird, because that's the same thing I have in my bas.e.m.e.nt.”
I collect a tray. ”I'd be happy that we share something in common, but we both know that neither of our houses have bas.e.m.e.nts.”
”Yep, but they have attics,” he says and it no longer sounds like he's joking. ”And attics are excellent places to hide bodies too.”
I pick up an apple and slide my tray down, unsure what to say.
He laughs. ”Relax, I'm just kidding.”
I offer him a small smile, and then pull a face at the food the lunch lady slops on my tray. Raven, where are you? I need my McDonald's.
”I think they forgot to kill it first.” Cameron pulls a revolted face. ”It looks like it's still moving.”
”What? Don't they have mystery surprise Monday in New York?” I loosen up a little, grab a bottle of water, and pick up my tray. My eyes browse the room lined with tables separated by cliques and social status. There's a lot of chattering and wandering eyes at the accused killer standing in the center of the room. Who am I even looking for? I spot Asher in the far corner table sitting with the self-proclaimed artists of the school.
Asher's eyes find mine and light up. But then he notices Cameron standing next to me and he glares. Cameron returns the glare with equal animosity.
”I thought you said you didn't know him?” I ask Cameron with cynicism.
He blinks the glare away and smiles politely. ”I don't know him. Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got places to be.” He struts off to Mackenzie's corner table and immediately starts flirting with her.
”Hot and cold much,” I mumble.
Asher waves me over. I hesitate, not at him, but at the rest of the people at the table who are just as afraid of me as Mackenzie is. But then Asher smiles and my doubting thoughts surrender.
I take a seat at the table and everyone gives me subtle nods, except for Farrah Taverson, who is the only girl at the table. And who dated Laden Miller up until a few weeks ago. She scowls at me, gathers her medieval era dress, and leaves the table.
”You looked like you needed help,” Asher whispers in my ear.
I stir the slosh on my tray. ”I don't usually eat in the cafeteria, especially without Raven.”
”She's still not here?” he asks and I shake my head, frowning. He takes a bite of his sandwich. ”Do you know that guy you were standing by?” He licks a dab of mayo from his lip. I imagine licking it off him, along with many other things.
”Ember.” His voice is low. ”Are you okay?” His gaze travels to my forehead. ”Did you go to the hospital after the accident?”
”Yeah,” I lie. ”And I'm fine. No broken bones. No concussion. I'm like a walking miracle.”
”What about your car?” he asks with concern.
My mood sinks lower. ”That's definitely a goner.”
”And how about... how are you doing with what everyone else is saying?”
I shrug. ”It's not the first time they've wanted to burn me at the stake.”
He takes another bite of his sandwich and changes the subject. ”So you never answered my question.”