The Lost Soul (30 page)

After she got her possessions under control, she glanced around.

Curiosity turned to cold dread. Several students with tight, angry faces charged her from the left, arms cocked, ready to launch some sort of artillery. They weaved around the parked cars. She didn’t have time to wonder what they were going to throw at her. Somehow she didn’t think it was flowers.

“Get her!” shouted another person.

Her head snapped around. Kids came at her from the right too. They were trying to box her in. If she didn’t get out of there, she was going to be slaughtered, maybe even literally. The books in her hands seemed to put on weight, and she almost dropped them in her haste to escape. Feeling numb from head to toe, she forced her legs to move.

She took off as fast as she could, heart thundering, grateful she’d worn sneakers instead of flip-flops today. She held her school books tight to her chest. Her purse bounced at the end of a long strap dangling off one shoulder. She made it out of the parking lot alive, but before she could congratulate herself on a job well done something struck the side of her head. A frightened cry burst through parted lips. Her hand went to the injured area and found it wet. Was it blood?

Multi colored balls flew past her. A yellow orb exploded against the sidewalk near her feet. Water sprayed her sneakers. The out-of-town students were throwing water balloons at her. She should have known this was going to happen, should have been prepared for it. Of course they hated her; she’d gotten their favorite teacher fired. Mr. Brighton had been selling test keys to the out-of-town students. She’d collected the evidence and handed it over to the headmaster yesterday, right before the school paper printed the story.

Frantic, she sprinted for the double glass doors at the top of the stairs. Her best friend Lily poked her head out and yelled, “Hurry! Run!”

Starr raced up the stairs, milliseconds ahead of rapid balloon-fire. Flashbacks of the war documentary her father had made her watch last year sprang to mind. Balloons hit the ground behind her like bullets from a machine gun. During the past two years working on the school paper she had been the recipient of dirty looks, vague threats, and an occasional well-placed kick, but she’d never had half the school out to get her.

Lily reached out, grabbed her arm, and yanked her inside. “I thought you were dead for sure.”

“Me too,” Starr said, gasping for breath. The adrenaline rush left her feeling shaky. Safely inside the school now, she stopped to take inventory. The plaid mini-skirt had been spared, but her black peasant blouse was soaked on one side. She raised the dark sunglasses until they held her hair back like an expensive headband.

She turned to look out the transparent doors. The angry students headed back to the parking lot. At least they weren’t mad enough to bring it inside and risk getting expelled. She was going to have to watch her back for a while.

A smattering of applause caught her off guard. She nearly jumped out of her skin. Eyes wide, she turned to find students crowding around her. The rich kids might want her dead, but the locals seemed to appreciate her efforts. A boy said, “Good job, Hughes. I hated Brighton.”

“Yeah,” someone else said. “He failed me last year, but every single stupid bussed in student passed his class. Now we know why.”

A girl added, “The headmaster fired him last night.”

Another said, “They should have put him in jail.”

A few more students congratulated her before moving on.

And that was the problem with Baycott. There were three main groups at the school. The locals hated the snobbish outsiders staying in the dorms. They were known as out-of-towners. Some called them the bussed-in-students, and they hated the locals even though most of their parents had money too. When they weren’t avoiding each other, they were fighting.

And the third group hated them all.

The It Squad. There were only three of them left after graduation last year. They were the minority, but somehow they ruled the school. Kids respected, feared, and envied them. Teachers wouldn’t say a word against them. It was weird. For years she’d tried to find a logical reason for their untouchable status, but this particular story somehow eluded her.

Lily checked her face in the mirror hanging inside their locker while Starr tried to get her stuff out. Sometimes Starr wished she hadn’t insisted on sharing the small storage box with her best friend. It got kind of crowded.

Someone bumped into her arm, almost knocking her into the locker. She spun around, cutting remark on her lips. Then she saw who it was and froze. Dylan Winchester. He was one of the Squad members, the one she most wanted to get to know.

Those incredible blue eyes enveloped her.

Her heart beat faster.

“Did you shower in your clothes this morning?” he asked.

What? She saw his lips moving, heard the deep timbre of his voice, but couldn’t understand a word. For a moment she lost the ability to process the English language. She blinked at him. Lily insinuated herself between Starr and Dylan. Twirling dark hair around two fingers, the other girl said, “Some of the rich kids threw water balloons at her.”

“Want me to kill them?” he asked Starr, neutral expression so she couldn’t tell if he was joking. “Break their legs? No? Well, you let me know if you change your mind.”

“O-okay,” she mumbled.

To say Dylan was totally gorgeous was an understatement. The guy was so hot he could set off the inside sprinklers if he stood too close to them. His brown hair was always a mess, looking like he’d just rolled out of bed. Sometimes the urge to dive into that hair with her fingers was near-impossible to resist. Then there were his eyes, eyes so blue they made her forget her very own name.

And if all that wasn’t enough to make a girl’s knees weak, he was tall and lean with a surfer’s body, well-toned and muscular. She’d seen him without a shirt a few times on the beach. He had a clearly defined six-pack that…

Fingers snapped in front of her face.

Startled, she nearly leaped out of her skin. “Huh? What?”

“Earth to Starr,” Lily said. “I’m supposed to be the boy-crazy one. Remember?”

Dylan was halfway down the hallway. Starr stared after him. He looked almost as good going as he did coming. Sigh. If she had it her way, the two of them would be a couple by Christmas. She gave Lily a look that clearly warned her to shut-up. Lily knew darn well there was only one boy Starr wanted to be with.

It drove her nuts, wanting to talk to him and not being able to. She could go up to anyone, get in their face, ask personal questions or make threats if the situation called for it, but every time she got within five feet of Dylan her throat closed and her tongue got tied in knots.

“I don’t get it.” Lily leaned back against their neighbor’s locker and pulled a red sucker from her mouth. “You like him, so why don’t you get all up in his business like you do with everyone else? Find out what makes him tick. Snoop around.”

“Don’t you think I’ve tried? His school records are practically blank. Someone scribbled over the most interesting parts with a black marker.”

Lily gasped. “Oh my gosh! I’ve seen that done in a movie. The guy was a secret agent and they didn’t want anyone to know.”

“I don’t think Dylan Winchester is a secret agent.”

“No, but he could be related to one. Or maybe he’s in the witness protection program.” Lily’s mouth and eyes grew wider by the second. Excited, she bounced on the balls of her feet. “No, no, no, no, no, wait. I think he’s a narc. That’s why he’s so mysterious. He’s undercover. That is so cool. I wonder who he’s after. It couldn’t be me. Could it? You don’t think he’s here for me, do you?”

Starr sighed. She looked down the hallway again and watched Dylan joking around with his friends. “He’s not a cop, Lily, and he’s not after you. But they are up to something, all three of them, and I’m going to find out what. And if it’s something bad, hence illegal, I’m going to expose them.”

Lily shook her head vehemently. “No. Don’t do that. He could be related to a mobster. Maybe that’s why his school records are blacked out. They’ll kill you or they’ll have someone else kill you, whatever it is they do, and even if they don’t do anything, everyone will hate you. So do us both a favor and leave them alone. If you go down, you’ll take me with you, and I like being popular.”

“Sorry. I can’t sit on a story, not even for you.”

“Yes you can.”

Starr thought about the interviews she’d read on successful reporters. She couldn’t let fear stop her from getting a story. A good reporter kept going no matter what. After she got the facts, then she would decide if the story needed to be told. She hoped Dylan wasn’t involved in anything shady. He acted tough on the surface, but she was sure he was a good guy deep down.

“I already have a lead,” Starr said. She stood closer to Lily and lowered her voice to a soft whisper. “They were in the headmaster’s office yesterday, all three of them, and they were talking about playing a game here at school. The headmaster gave them permission. It sounded… wrong, bad, sneaky. I don’t know what kind of game they were talking about, but I’m going to find out.”

Lily frowned, dark brows drawing close over light blue eyes. “How do you know what they were talking about? Were you hiding in the office?”

“Nope.” Starr raised her chin and smiled smugly. “I have the headmaster’s office bugged.”

“What!” Lily slapped a hand over her mouth. The red sucker almost hit her in the eye. A few strands of hair clung to the sticky thing. Making a face, she pulled them loose.

Several curious stares turned in their direction.

Starr glared at the other girl. “Do you mind? If I wanted the whole school to know, I’d make an announcement over the PA system.”

Lily whispered, “When I loaned you some of dad’s private eye equipment, I didn’t expect you to use it to eavesdrop on the headmaster. If you get caught, I’ll get in trouble too. Why did you bug his office? That is insane.”

“I wanted to hear the exchange between the headmaster and Mr. Brighton. I’m the one who caught Brighton selling test answers, but the headmaster refused to let me be a part of it so I slipped in when no one was around and planted a bug. I wanted to make sure the headmaster wasn’t in on the deal with Brighton.”

Starr paused long enough to make sure no one was listening in on their conversation. She added, “Anyway, after Brighton was dismissed the Squad showed up and told the headmaster they were about to play this game. They called it Witch Hunt.”

“Creepy.”