I'm So Sure (12 page)

“Me?” I smile, but Mom doesn’t return it. “I’ll be fine. Maybe just say a prayer for me.”

Mom rolls her eyes heavenward. “If I prayed any more for you, I’d have to quit my job at Sugar’s. So stay safe or else you’ll be spending some extra time with your grandmother.” Mom’s face is all innocence. “For safety purposes, of course.”

Before first hour at school, I close myself in a bathroom stall and take a moment to clear my head.
God, this is so not cool. I need some heavenly pit bulls of protection to guard me. This is something I need to do, but between you and me, this morning I was so scared I nearly peed my Victoria’s Secrets.

“I’m doomed.” I hear a voice from the next stall. “I’ll go down as the worst president in history. They’ll impeach me!”

I know that voice. I stand up on the toilet lid and peep over. “Lindy?”

Sad eyes look straight up. “Oh, hey. Just, um, studying for a final.”

Right.
“Everything okay over there?”

“Last night I shot a game-winning three-pointer. Why can’t being in charge of prom be that easy? No wonder Harry Wu Fong moved away.”

“You’re doing a great job. We’re making a ton of money on the Match-and-Catch fund-raiser. What’s the problem?” I haven’t turned in my personal interest survey, but I’m going to. Eventually.

“Somehow the reservations for the caterer got cancelled. Where are we going to get food now? They said someone called yesterday and told them we wouldn’t be needing their services. And now they’re booked up!”

“It’s going to be okay, Lindy.” Um, not sure how. But it sounds nice. “Did they say who called? Guy, girl? Did you get a name?”

“Oh, so now I’m not only a horrible president, but I’m not smart enough to ask the obvious questions!”

In journalism class, I pull up the threatening e-mail and read it until I’ve memorized every scary word.

“What do we have here?”

I startle at Luke’s voice. “Nothing. Just working.” I minimize the screen. “I’m so diligent like that.”

“Wow, kinda jumpy this morning.” He props a hip at my workstation. “Anything new you’d like to tell me about?”

I try to pull up another file, but my hands can’t seem to steady the mouse. “Nope. Can’t think of a thing.”

“You know, we are supposed to be working on this missing funds story together.”

“We’ve already gone over this. You expect me to keep you in the loop, but you don’t return the favor.”

“I’m sorry, Bel.” His voice is low and sincere. “I haven’t been acting fairly.”

I study his face. No sarcasm present. “Are you feeling okay today? Running a temp?”

“I’ve been praying about our situation.”

I swallow. “What situation would that be?”
The one where we’re in a race to see who can solve the mystery first
or
the one in which I find myself sniffing your Abercrombie-scented air?

“Us.” Luke takes off his glasses. “Circling each other like alley cats whenever we have to work on a story together. I’m the leader of this paper, but I haven’t been acting very . . . um, leadery.”

“I don’t care what Mr. Holman says about you, Luke. I think you have a great vocabulary.”

He laughs and the tension between us dissolves like melting icicles. “Look, I know you’ve probably got some news. And since you’re going to be headed out for Christmas break, you can’t follow up on your leads. We can either work together and solve this
or
we continue in our stubborn pride and flush it down the toilet.”

Toilet. “Before you break out in an inspirational show tune, let me take a wild guess here. Someone overheard Lindy and me talking this morning in the bathroom and came straight to you?”

His grin is nothing less than Big Bad Wolf. “I meant the other stuff too.”

“Sure you did.” I roll my eyes and give him my shoulder. He totally had me there. And part of me wants to tell him about the e-mail and get a little sympathy. But he’d just take me off the story. And that is
not
going to happen.

“I’ll check with the caterer and find out what I can about the phone call. You know if we let that go too long, our chances of getting the caller’s number are slim.”

He’s right. And with a psycho lurker out there, the sooner we get this wrapped up, the better. “Ughhh,” I growl. “Fine. But you better keep me updated. Text me over the break. No, actually I want phone calls.” I jab my finger into a chest made solid by years of soccer. “Don’t let me down.”

“
Me
let you down?” He captures my finger. “I’ll leave that to your friend Hunter.”

I sputter like there’s fuzz in my lip gloss. “What is that supposed to mean?”

He drops my hand. “Nothing.” He shrugs big. “I just think you should watch yourself around him. Okay, let’s review what we know about the stolen money.”

Though I go all blinky-eyed at his topic change, I let his cryptic statement go and show him my notes instead.

By the end of the day, my mechanical pencil is out of lead and my brain is devoid of working cells. Finals are straight from the dark side. Not to mention I stared at every single person I came across today, wondering if anyone fit the bill of maniac night stalker.

I blow a kiss to the two camera guys in the car across the street and hop into my Bug. This is Jake’s day to train with Mark Rogers, my friend with the Truman PD, and I want to pick his brain.

Swinging open the doors of the gym, I wave at Mickey.

“Hey.” He motions me into his office. “I heard what happened last night. I want you to know there are a lot of eyeballs in town watching you.” He frowns. “That sounded creepy, didn’t it?”

“Little bit.”

“You know what I mean. We look out for our own here in Truman.” He takes a drink of Gatorade. “Uh . . . so how was school?”

“Fine. My finals are over.” I can tell this isn’t really what he wants to talk about. “Mom called me at lunch today. She said the baby was born this morning. A healthy boy.”

His head lowers in a slow nod. “A boy.”

“Dolly’s taking him home tomorrow.”

Mickey sits up straighter. “Well, I was just asking about school. But I appreciate the update. I . . .” He pauses, and it’s like I can feel the words crashing to the surface in his head. “I hope everything goes okay for Dolly. She was meant to be a mom.”

And once upon a time, he was a father. “Mickey, I think—”

“I better get back to work.” He restacks some papers. “Lots to do before this week’s show.”

I back out of the office and follow the trail of grunts and yells.

Jake is in full pirate gear today. He has the patch over his eye, tall black boots, and something that’s painfully close to a Speedo with a skull and crossbones on the rear.

Mark sees me approach and takes his eyes off his opponent. Jake uses the opportunity to hoist him up and give him a spin.

“Hey, Bella!”

“Hey, Mark,” I yell as his feet go swinging by.

My stepdad throws him to the mat and mutters something about making him walk the plank. Stepping back, he breaks character. “How were your last finals?” Jake reaches for a towel from the ropes.

“More fun than a girl has a right to have.” And my brain is still mush. “Have you noticed anything off with Robbie lately?”

Jake pats the towel to his face. “Not really. But I’ve been so busy, I haven’t spent as much time with him as I’d like.”

“Ah, the price of fame.” Mark rolls to a standing position, his hand massaging his back. “I really need to work on my landing.”

“I know that look on your face, Bella. I’ll take a water break so you can talk to Mark.”

I smile at Officer Mark as my stepdad climbs out of the ring. “I think you’re making great improvements. You could’ve totally stopped him from picking you up. I know you like to go easier on Jake because he’s older.”

Mark crosses his arms. “What do you want to know?”

“Just wanted to check if there’d been any developments on the missing junior class funds.”

“No. Your friend Anna was absolved. And Victoria Smith simply made a dumb mistake.” Mark sits back into a stretch. “All we know is she saw a guy and girl in the bank drive-thru. We can’t even tell what kind of car in the bank’s surveillance video. But Bella, until this morning, this case really wasn’t on our list of things to be concerned with.”

I grab his water bottle from the mat and hand it to him. “What would be a motive for harassing two seniors? And me?”

He shrugs a big shoulder. “Jealousy, a bitter ex-boyfriend, the geek girl who never gets noticed. And no doubt, this person thinks you’re getting close to something. I think we can now tie the threats you’ve received to the night you got run off the road.”

“And I just need to find the connection.” I pin him with my best serious-girl stare. “What are the chances you’d use me on this case?”

“Less than zero.” He takes a drink. “After today’s development, you have no business sticking your nose in it.”

I smile and dig my car keys out of my purse. “I’m just asking for the sake of the paper. Don’t worry about me. I don’t have my nose stuck in the case.”

Though the rest of my body has plunged right on in.

chapter seventeen

I
’m so glad your father suggested I pick you up at the airport,” Christina says on Friday as she gives the cabbie directions to the house and settles back into the seat. “He’s in a meeting but will be home later.”

Her hair is perfectly highlighted, her nails flawlessly manicured, and she has the newest Chloé bag. The one I’ve been saving for. The one I’m still $1900 away from getting, which is like a million in teen-job dollars.

Christina’s hand touches my coat sleeve. “I feel that we got off to a rough start last time you were here.”

“Are you living with my dad?” I know the answer. I just want to hear her say it.

She presses her rosy lips together. “Yes. When two adults care about one another—”

“Spare me.”
Pull over, driver. I need to puke.
“Will you be celebrating Christmas with us?”

Her smile is as fake as the collagen in her lips. “Yes. Your father thought it would be a nice way for us to spend some more time together.” Christina folds her hands in her lap. “Bella, I think you should know that I love your father. So does little Marisol. And we’re not going anywhere, so it would be helpful to all of us if you could just accept that.”

I stare out the window and watch the snow blanket my city.

The cab lets us out, and I politely refuse Christina’s help with my bags. Luisa meets me in the foyer, and I let her smoosh me in a hug. She smells like snickerdoodles and old times.

“How were your finals,
niña
?” Luisa sees my look of stress. “Why don’t we get you settled in your room?” She gives me a playful whack on the tush, and we make our way upstairs, leaving Christina alone.

“Tell me she grows on you.” I flop on the bed and stare at the psychotic cherubs overhead.

Luisa begins to unpack my suitcase. “Did you bring something nice to wear for Christmas dinner?” She stares at me over the hanger of a dress.

“That bad, huh?” I get up and help her unpack.

“Your grandmother loves her. That is all I say.”

That pretty much says it all. Grandmother also likes the idea of boarding school, weak tea, and wearing lots of purple.

“What is this? Bella helping her old Luisa?” My former nanny smiles. “I think Oklahoma has been good for you. I like this new Bella.”

We turn at a knock on the door. “Where’s my girl?” Dad walks across the pink carpet and pecks me on the cheek. “Good flight?”

Much better than the drive home
.

“I guess Christina told you that they’re all moved in here. Marisol is visiting friends for the next few days but will be here for Christmas dinner on the twenty-third.”

“You know I don’t agree with this.”

“You always were my little worrier.” He tweaks my nose.

Behind him Luisa rolls her dark eyes and files out of the room.

“Tonight I have a dinner meeting with some clients at Tao. It will be outrageously boring, so I invited a friend of yours to keep you company.”

They all pretty much stopped talking to me after I found my best friend with my boyfriend. As if I were the guilty party. I don’t really have any friends left in Manhattan.

“Who?”

“Well, I ran into Hunter Penbrook at Starbucks the other day. So I invited him.”

“Oh.” Contemplating this. “Okay.” I guess.

A few hours later, Dad, Christina, and I are dropped off in front of Tao. It’s a great place to spy some celebs, but as we’re led to the table near Buddha, my eyes zoom in on Hunter. He pulls out a chair for me, and I sit.

Dad introduces me to everyone at the table. They nod politely, then jump into business. Hunter and I fade into the background.

“How are you feeling?” I maneuver my chopstick and take a bite of sushi.

“We just ruled out leukemia, so that’s a relief,” Hunter says.

“That’s great.”

“Now they’re checking on my liver. But enough about that.” He smiles. “I have good days and bad.”

“And what’s today?”

His grin widens, and his eyes sparkle into mine. “Definitely good.”

“How is your dad’s business?”

Hunter’s expression darkens. “He’s not faring as well as your dad since the accountant took off with the money. He just can’t seem to bounce back.”

“I’m sure that doesn’t make your health issues any better.”

His warm hand covers mine. “I don’t want to talk about depressing things tonight. I’m happy to be here—with you.”

I’m ten minutes into the main course when I notice the guy in the corner with the small video camera.

“I’m going to slip out,” I whisper to Hunter and jerk my chin in the cameraman’s direction. “Lately I can’t go anywhere without an audience.”

“Yeah, I saw the tabloids last week. I hope that didn’t bother you.”

I try to read Hunter’s face. Is he glad the tabloid thought we might be a couple? Or is he smiling because it was kind of funny in a twisted, drama queen sort of way?

Hunter stands up. “Want to grab some coffee?”

I say good-bye to Dad, Christina, and his business associates.

Not wanting to tax Hunter with a walk, I hail a cab to the nearest Starbucks. We walk in and I inhale deeply. I love that smell. If there was a way to safely stick coffee beans up my nose, I would.