Tripp
โโWho would do this?โ Charlotte demands at lunch, brandishing her phone like an accusation. โHow dare they? Itโs obscene!โโ
โItโs a stupid joke,โ Shane says. He leans back in his chair and puts an arm around Charlotteโs shoulders, but for once sheโs too distracted to melt into him. โThat whole portrait thing has everyone riled up.โ
โWell, they should make up their minds,โ Charlotte says tightly. โDo they hate Mr. Larkin, or do they hate us? If weโreย murderers,ย then you canโt have it both ways, right?โ
โStop acting like this is supposed to make sense,โ I say, hoping I sound as nonchalant as Shane. If Charlotte knew how much that text freaked me out, sheโd only spiral more. Besides, I started feeling betterโless targeted, anywayโwhen I realized Shane and Charlotte got one too.
โI hate being falsely accused.โ Charlotte flings her phone onto the table and folds her arms tightly across her chest. โIt brings backย memories.โ Shane and I both blink at her, confused, until she says, โHello? The class- trip money? People said I was a thief.โ
โNo one ever actually believed that,โ Shane reassures her.
Charlotte looks more than ready to argue the point, so I quickly change the subject. โI wonder how whoever sent this got our numbers?โ I say.
Shane shrugs. โSchool directory? The office has them. Wouldnโt be hard.โ
โSo itโs somebody here,โ Charlotte says, her eyes narrowing as they flick across the cafeteria. โOne of the dregs, probably.โ
โCome on, Charlotte. Donโt jump onto that train,โ I say. The termย dregsย makes me uncomfortable, and not only because the guy who started it, Colin Jeffries, lives two blocks away from me in Sturgis. If thereโs such a thing as aย dregย at Saint Ambrose, Iโm it. Shane and Charlotte keep forgetting that, maybe because theyโve never been to my house. Even when they pick me up to go someplace, I meet them at school. That started in eighth grade, when I was an asshole who was embarrassed about where I lived, and somehow it never stopped.
Yes, itโs weird. But itโs probably weirder that theyโve never questioned
it.
โDrop it, okay?โ Shane murmurs as the table starts to fill up. Abby Liu
puts her tray next to mine, lowering halfway into a chair, before springing back up with a frustrated sigh. โUgh, I forgot to get a drink,โ she says. โAnyone else need anything?โ
โCould you find me another apple?โ Charlotte asks, frowning at the one on her tray. โThis one has a bruise.โ It looks fine to me, but Charlotte is like that fairy tale about the princess and the peaโalways pointing out flaws that nobody else notices.
โSure,โ Abby says, twisting her shiny dark ponytail over one shoulder. โTripp?โ
โIโm good, thanks,โ I say.
Charlotte watches Abby walk away before turning to me with a knowing smile. โSheโs into you,โ she says.
I snort. โYou say that about everyone.โ
โCan I help it if everyone is into you?โ Charlotte asks, flipping her hair over her shoulders. Theย except meย is implied. For the moment, at least, the
Murdererย text seems forgotten. โAnd you need a girlfriend. Youโve been single for way too long.โ
โNobodyย needsย a girlfriend,โ Shane says, earning a hard look from Charlotte. โI just mean, leave the guy alone, babe. Tripp can get plenty of action if he wants it.โ
โDonโt be a Neanderthal,โ Charlotte huffs, scanning the tables around us. โHmm,โ she adds, her expression turning thoughtful. โBrynn Gallagher got pretty, didnโt she?โ
I donโt follow her gaze. Itโs funny how Charlotte is the hottest girl in school, but if you had to say why, youโd be stuck, because even though sheโs the total package, thereโs nothing about her that stands out. Not to me, anyway. With Brynn, on the other hand, everything stands out: the green eyes, the light dusting of freckles, the coppery hair. But noticing that feels like a bad idea, so I act like I didnโt hear Charlotte and say, โHere comes Abby with your apple.โ
Charlotte puts on a bright smile as she plucks the shiny red apple from Abbyโs outstretched hand. Then her expression dims into disappointment as she sets it carefully next to the other one. โThis is bruised too, but thank you anyway.โ
I canโt hear, exactly, what Shane mutters under his breath, but it sounds a lot likeย fucking impossible to please.
โ
Hours later Iโm in the Saint Ambrose greenhouse, at the edge of a group of kids I barely know, while waiting for Ms. Kelso, because Iโm afraid Regina really will fire me if I donโt sign up for this goddamn memorial garden committee.
Thereโs no one here to talk to, so I distract myself by scrolling through my phone. For some reason I still havenโt deleted theย Murdererย message; maybe because I keep wondering if there might be some kind of clue as to who sent it, but thatโs pointless with a blocked number. Before I can get rid of it, though, a text comes through from a familiar, unwelcome number.
Lisa Marie:ย Still an early-morning runner, huh, Trey?
I shut my eyes briefly. Itโs always โTrey,โ like my mother needs her own special version of a nickname, and itโs a bonus that I happen to hate it. The driver of the gray sedan that sped past me this morning wasnโt a mirage after all. This day just keeps getting better.
A second text forces my attention back to my phone.ย Want to get coffee after school? I saw a cute bakery on Main.
You mean the bakery I work at?ย I almost type, but think better of it. Itโs not as if my mother would bother to remember that I have a job now. Besides, I donโt owe her an instant response just because she decided to show up out of the blue and cruise the streets of Sturgis, instead of giving me a heads-up like a normal person. Lisa Marie thinks this kind of thing is fun, that sheโs bringing an exciting spot of color into the drab life she left behind.
But I think itโs bullshit, and Iโm tired of playing her games.
โHello, hello! So sorry Iโm running behind!โ Ms. Kelso bustles in with a few people behind her, her arms filled with folders. โWhat a pleasure to see so many of you here. Iโm grateful, and thrilled to be working with all of you on this important project.โ
She opens one of her folders, pulls out a bunch of stapled papers, and hands them to the kid closest to her. โTake one and pass it along, please. This is an outline of how Iโm thinking the process will go, but I welcome any and all feedback.โ Then her eyes settle on me, and her entire face lights up. Iโm a favorite of hers, even though Iโve done nothing to deserve it. โTripp, you made it after all! Iโm so happy you decided to join us.โ
โSure,โ I mumble, ducking my head as I take a handout and pass the rest to whoeverโs next to me, without looking at them. I donโt need any more curious glances; Iโve been getting them since I showed up in the greenhouse. Iโm the guy who found Mr. Larkin, after all.
โIโm thinking about this in phases,โ Ms. Kelso continues. โFirst thereโs planning. We need to decide what the garden should contain, both in terms of plantings and some kind of object like a bench or a plaque. Weโre going to have to price out those options. And thenโฆโ
Itโs hot in the greenhouse, so I unzip my coat and look around me as Ms. Kelso continues to talk. There are too many plants here, I decide. I donโt like it. I havenโt liked being surrounded by this much green since that day in the woods.
No. Not thinking about that.
Usually it works; the memory threatens to surface, and I push it down. But this time, maybe because Iโm in the middle of an overheated faux woods, I canโt. For a few seconds, everything around me fades. All I can see is trees, their trunks gnarled and their branches twisting every which way, blocking the sunlight and hemming me in. Someone is screaming, making it impossible to think, and Iย haveย to think.
โTripp?โ
I blink until my vision clears. Ms. Kelso is staring at me, which probably means everyone else is too.
โDid you hear me?โ she asks. โAre you okay with heading up that subcommittee?โ
Fuck. What subcommittee? What have I gotten myself into? I should just accept that Martina Zielinski is getting the Kendrick Scholarship, not me, and then I can leave this leafy hellscape and never come back. Except for the part where Regina would either fire me or kill me. Possibly both. โYeah, I guess,โ I mumble, dropping my eyes back to my handout. The words swim in front of me, impossible to read.
โWonderful,โ Ms. Kelso says. โYou and your co-chair will make a great team.โ
Co-chair? Ms. Kelso is smiling at someone to my left, the person I shoved the handouts toward without a glance a few minutes ago. I look now, and find myself staring into Brynn Gallagherโs bright green eyes.
โHi, partner,โ she says.