Pretty Crooked (24 page)

The front door opened, and then there were footsteps. My mom was home. Time to look busy. I quickly put the painting down and scurried out to sit at her desk in front of the computer.

“What are you up to in here?” my mom asked, appearing in the doorway. She seemed rushed, like she’d raced home. She was sweaty and she wasn’t wearing any makeup. She looked horrible, if I’m going to be honest.

I tried to keep my breath even as I turned to face her. “I was just going to borrow your computer for a sec, if you don’t mind. Mine is acting funny.”

“Funny?” She stared at me like I was speaking in another language, like her brain couldn’t quite receive the message I was transmitting.

Don’t ask for details
, I thought. “Just, off.”

I didn’t need to worry, though, because her eyes were hardly registering what was going on. Her mind was somewhere else. It had to be that guy again.

“What’s wrong with it?”

I shrugged and smiled a little. “I don’t know. It’s a mystery.”

“Maybe you should get that looked at,” she murmured, and wandered absently out into the hall.

“Yes,” I said. “I probably should.”

CHAPTER NINETEEN

WITH NO MORE lessons from Tre and nowhere to go after school, I decided, the following afternoon, to take a long bike ride and try to clear my head. It was deep autumn, and the air was cooling off some, or at least releasing its searing grip of death. I pedaled down the school driveway and out onto the road. This late in the day, the sun was disappearing behind the mountains, leaving long shadows between me and the pavement.

At this point, I had some known knowns. (1) My mom was lying to me about the man in the suit, and maybe about other things as well; (2) The police were getting closer and they were probably only a few steps away from catching me; (3) Tre was no longer going to help me.

Then there were the known unknowns. (1) What exactly was going on with my mom?; (2) Had I done enough, really, to help the less fortunate kids at Prep?;
(3) If not, could I pull off one last job?

I probably should have been worrying about whether I could survive much longer at Prep myself, but my other concerns seemed more immediate.

I’d gone about four miles when I saw some people in orange jackets gathered on the side of the road. As I neared I recognized one figure in the pack. Aidan Murphy. He was holding a trash bag and picking up old cans and potato-chip bags. Yep, there was the mop of hair, the chiseled face.

Holy Hotness
.

I braked in front of him, practically flinging myself off my bike with the sudden movement.

“Fancy running into you here,” I said, though the only thing that was fancy about it was the way my heart was threatening to jump out of my mouth.

He smiled, but only partially. “What’s up, Colorado?” The orange was a strange look for him, but from the neck up he seemed very much the same, with an extra layer of tan that made him glow even more gorgeously.

“What are you doing here? I mean—”

He interrupted me, holding up an open palm. “It’s exactly what it looks like. I’m doing my community service.”

So it was big, his transgression that got him kicked out of school. He was being lumped in with criminals. Feeling a pang of worry, I took a step toward him. “Are you okay? Is everything okay?”

He nodded, closing his eyes for a moment. Like he was mentally calculating something, or maybe just blocking out the sun. “Yeah. I’m out of there, finally. I did what I had to do.”

I couldn’t imagine all that he had been through, but it seemed to be serious. At least his face was telling me that it was. And for Aidan, that was weird.

“Did it have to be so drastic?”

He looked at the ground, then back to me, with a brief flick of the head.

“You’re not going to tell me, are you?” I asked, clasping my hands in front of me.

“I can’t. You know that.”

As he spoke his voice was quiet and his eyes were apprehensive, no longer staring at me squarely as they had in the past.

I used to find that stare unnerving; now it was strange to see him without it. I remembered him that day at the mall, bragging and being adorably pompous. I was looking at a different person now. Whatever had happened between then and now had changed something for him, I felt certain of that. He looked more vulnerable here on the open road.

“How long have you been out here?” I asked.

“Today? About four hours. Only a hundred and ninety-six left to complete.”

He smiled weakly at his own joke and then he wiped the sweat off his brow.

I felt sorry for him, that he was dealing with this on his own. I didn’t know much about his family, but from what he’d told me it didn’t sound like they were the cheerful, supportive type. I had the sudden urge to do something for him, to take care of him. “So you’ll be here for a little while then?”

He nodded. “Until five.”

“Be right back,” I said. “Don’t go anywhere!” The last was a joke but he only gave me that faint smile in response.

I got back on my saddle and rode on to the nearest convenience store, where I bought an extra-large iced coffee. Then I biked back to him, just a few yards farther down the road from where he’d been earlier, and handed the coffee to him. His eyes lit up instantly as he took a big gulp, downing half of it.

“You didn’t have to do this,” he said, shaking his head.

“I wanted to.”

“I mean it. I’m really—” He looked around to see if anyone was watching us, and stepped closer. I could barely look at him, he was that close. He took my chin between his thumb and forefinger. Everything else seemed to slip away—the street, the other guys in orange jackets, even the omnipresent Arizona sun. Then he leaned in and brushed my cheek with his lips. They were soft and smooth against my skin. A sensation like an electric shock ran through me to my nerve endings.

“—thankful?” I squeaked.

“Yeah. That.”

We stood looking at each other for a moment. An older man behind him blew a whistle. He turned to look, then shrugged a little reluctantly. “I think you should probably go. I’m not supposed to have visitors here.”

“Okay,” I said, standing up straighter. I realized that I’d been digging my fingernails into my palms the whole time, probably leaving permanent indentations. “See you … soon?”

“Yeah,” he said, but he didn’t say when or how. He was probably in no position to make any plans at this point, I told myself. So really, I thought, as I rode away past the rest of the line of guys in orange jackets, my body still reeling from his touch, I had no way of knowing.

Later that night, one of Nikki’s mass emails was waiting for me in my in-box. Subject line:
Have u seen this
?

Below was a link to the Buzz, and photos of Alicia, Sierra, and Mary. I recognized them from Sierra’s Facebook page. They’d looked so cute and happy there. But the faces were Photoshopped onto obese naked bodies, with rolls of flesh hanging out everywhere. Scrawled across their faces were the words
dirty thieves
. Below it, the text of the post said:

We all know who’s responsible for the VP crimes. Just look around at the Busteds’ new wardrobes. If you want to see these lowlifes punished, tell Mr.
Page you’ve seen them in the act. Anyone else have any evidence? Leave your comments below.

There were already around thirty comments of people claiming to have seen them stealing firsthand. I scanned the page quickly: A few said they’d seen locker break-ins, while another poster said they saw Alicia stealing a handbag in the dining hall.
Liars
, I thought. Talk about dirty. I couldn’t believe anyone would just make this stuff up.

I sucked in a breath. I was racing against the clock. If these people were already forming a virtual vigilante mob, I had to hit Kellie’s house so that everyone knew the truth. And I needed to do it before it was too late.

CHAPTER TWENTY

“I’M SO GLAD you called,” Kellie said as she adjusted the straps of her silver bikini top. “I was dying of boredom today here by myself. Nikki’s working on a history paper and Drew has some family thing. Everyone else was watching football.”

Thank you, Kellie. As always, you have made me feel so lucky to be here. Glad to know that I was your first choice, that it was me you really wanted to hang out with and not just any person to fill your hot tub and make you seem like less of a loser
.

Now, where was I
?

5-8-2-6-1, 5-8-2-6-1, 5-8-2-6-1
.

It was only five numbers to remember. It would be easy enough if I kept repeating them in my mind like a little mantra. I sank deeper into the hot tub and let the bubbles ripple over my back and shoulders. The hot water and steam felt great against the cooling air. It was
finally a manageable temperature in Paradise Valley, a temperature where I could wear layers, where my bike seat didn’t singe my butt, where I didn’t worry about the welfare of little fluffy dogs on the street. It was a perfect evening, actually. If I could only tune out the sound of Kellie’s pinched, snotty voice, I could focus on memorizing the passcode to her security system.

5-8-2-6-1, 5-8-2-6-1, 5-8-2-6-1
.

The house was so well protected that she had to enter it each and every time she went through the door. The beauty of it was I didn’t even have to ask. When I got up to get us some Coke Zeros, she told me the code outright. Five numbers and I was in. A nice little practice run.

Maybe I should have felt guilty, sitting in Kellie’s hot tub as her guest, while daydreaming about robbing her blind. And a tiny little part of me did. It wasn’t a very friendly thing to do. It certainly didn’t fit into the Valley Prep code of conduct.

But then I reminded myself that this was Kellie Richardson, after all. As I learned a few short weeks ago, she lived to torment people. She’d bullied them every day from the comfort of this hot tub and laughed at their expense. And while the rest of us were studying hard, she was paying someone to do her work for her. Yup. She had what was coming to her.

And there were Mary, Sierra, and Alicia to think about—I could get them off the hook. And Jocelyn. I
could give her the ultimate gift package after this job. Or cash for a tutor.

It wouldn’t be all that easy to get in when no one was here, of course. There was a gate to contend with, and security cameras, and sensors. If Tre’s complex seemed tough to crack, Kellie’s house was like the Mount Everest of break-ins.

“This weekend has been so beat. I don’t know what’s going on, but it’s like if I don’t throw the party, it doesn’t effing happen. I’m so sick of everyone mooching off me.” She lifted her toes out of the water and examined her Barbie-pink pedicure. “Thank God I’m going up to UA next weekend. Chip said that the Fiji Islander is going to be the biggest party before winter break.”

“What’s that?” I asked, feigning interest as I trailed my hands through the swirling water. And who the hell was Chip? Not like it mattered.

“It’s a frat party?” she half asked, as if she was questioning whether I was really that stupid. “Phi Gamma Delta? God, Willa. Sometimes it’s like you came from another
planet
.”

I forced out a phony laugh that, in another situation, might have been confused with the cluck of chickens going to slaughter. No biggie. It was easy to swallow my anger now that I had the code.

“
Any
way… I missed it last year. I had to go on some stupid spa vacation with my mom. I was so bummed. They get a ton of bands and build a huge hut and fill it
with sand. I just bought a killer Missoni bikini to wear. I’d invite you but Chip said he only has a couple tickets left.”

“Mmm,” I said.

She narrowed her eyes and waved a hand in front of my face. “Hello? Am I talking to myself here?”

“No. I’m just listening.”

Actually, I was trying to figure out how I’d scale her stone wall without anyone noticing.

“Well, you seem totally zoned out.”

5-8-2-6-1, 5-8-2-6-1, 5-8-2-6-1
.

“Sorry,” I said, tuning in. I was going to have to pretend to care, at least as long as I sat here.

“Have you talked to Cherise at all?”

“A little bit,” I said, stiffening at the mention of her. I definitely didn’t want to go down this road.

“After the way she stormed out of Nikki’s the other night, it really makes me wonder, you know? Like, who my real friends are.”

“I’m sure she’s your real friend,” I said. I wasn’t trying to kiss up. I genuinely believed Cherise cared about her. “She was just upset.”

“I don’t know. She’s been so moody lately. No offense, but ever since you got here it’s like I’ve seen this different side of her. I blame you, Willa.” She laughed loudly, throwing her head back, and her diamond stud earrings glinted at me. “JK.”

“Don’t give up on her,” I said. As much as I despised
Kellie, I wasn’t here to drive a wedge between her and Cherise. Though I did hope that Cherise might come to her own conclusions someday and realize she didn’t need the Glitterati.

“We’ll see.” She stretched her arms lazily overhead before plunging them back into the water. “Well, anyway, friend stuff is boring. Let’s talk about Aidan Murphy. He was totally flirting with me before he got kicked out of VP. Like playing footsie with me under the table at the dining hall. Remember the day that sleaze Mary came to school in that tired gold dress?”

Oof
. That was the thing about Kellie. She always knew how to get you where it counted. “He was?”

“Yeah, it was so cute. Actually,
he’s
been looking supercute lately, don’t you think? Sexy, even. I invited him over last night but I guess he was busy. Maybe he was grounded or something for whatever prank he pulled. I mean, I know he’s not seeing anyone. Do you think he’s seeing anyone?”

“Not that I know of,” I said, gritting my teeth so hard I was probably going to need headgear. I was thinking of how he’d kissed me, which, of course, I’d never tell her. She would almost certainly ruin the memory for me, one way or another.
Not Aidan
.
Of all the guys she could tramp on
… “What about Chip?”