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  Of course, a list of suspects wasn’t complete without another list: people who could have taken those photographs. People who knew Ryan had been cheating on me. I mulled over how to get that list all through my post-lunch classes. Alina could have talked to Ryan, but it wasn’t like she was going to help me. I’d been friendly with Ryan’s soccer teammates but, remembering the two who’d shoved me in the hallway last week, I decided they weren’t good sources either.

  There was really only one person left in Ryan’s inner circle I could ask. Despite my misgivings, I decided I had no choice but to take a chance.

  After school, I changed into my practice clothes, then caught Paxton as he was about to head into the guy’s locker room. I tugged him over by the vending machines, out of the flow of traffic.

  “Let me guess.” Paxton’s brown eyes skewered me. “You forgot to thank me for yesterday’s bagels. Or, wait.” He snapped his fingers. “You want to apologize for shoving my offer of help in my face this morning.”

  My teeth ground together. I had been about to apologize, but with him being such a snot about it, I couldn’t force the words past my lips.

  “I could use your help,” I said instead. “But I don’t trust you. If you’re really serious about helping me clear my name, find out from Ryan who knew about him and Francesca.”

  Without waiting for Paxton’s answer, I jogged off to practice.

  Chapter 12

  The next day the sun shone on Petalina High again, so I ate lunch in the courtyard. I’d brought a sandwich and chips from home; yesterday some juniors I recognized from last year’s school play had “accidentally” upset my tray in the lunch line. Since I didn’t have to buy today I got to the courtyard early enough to snag a table for myself. More people wandered out over the cobblestones, but no one sat with me. I’d expected that, but it hurt anyway.

  Part of me still couldn’t believe how Alina had turned everyone against me. She thought I’d endangered her dad, but what kind of person wouldn’t give her best friend the benefit of the doubt? What kind of person humiliated her best friend in front of the whole cafeteria?

  I didn’t want to answer that, because it led to other questions. What kind of person made people kneel and beg forgiveness--and what kind of person watched and laughed as it happened? How could I have ever thought that was funny? I’d never believed Alina and I were Mean Girl types, but clearly my perception didn’t quite match up with reality.

  I sighed and took out the list of Rose-Haters Beverly had chucked at me in the hallway after second period. My stomach churned. A couple weeks ago, I didn’t think anyone hated me, except Paxton. Now ... I took a deep breath, then unfolded the list.

  “Hey, Rose.”

  Tiffany sauntered over. I stuffed the paper under a notebook.

  “Did you come to deliver today’s spitballs in person?” I said. “That’s so sweet.”

  She grinned. “Did you notice? Yesterday they were the wrappers from Dove chocolates.”

  “And this morning they were bits of Panther pom-pom. I appreciate the diversity.”

  Tiffany sat down across from me, rolling another strand of red plastic between her fingers. I hoped it wasn’t one of my pom-poms she was destroying. I’d have to check my gym locker after lunch.

  “My Halloween party.” Tiffany lobbed the tiny red ball at me. “You coming?”

  “Are you serious?” I stared at her. “You’ve spent the last week and a half being Alina’s lapdog she sics on me.”

  “I’m no one’s lapdog.” Tiffany reached for one of my chips, but I smacked her hand away. “What? Look, you and Alina are fighting. But you’re right, we can still be friends.”

  “What does Alina think of you inviting me to your party?”

  “I don’t know,” Tiffany said, looking annoyed. “I haven’t asked her.”

  “Careful, Tiff, or you’ll wind up like me.” I picked up the pom-pom bit and threw it back at her. She sighed.

  “You and Alina should just make up already. She hasn’t cracked a real smile since she had you hosed with milk in the cafeteria.”

  “Poor Alina,” I snapped. “It must be so hard having all her friends stand up for her instead of throwing spitballs and putting gum on her chair.”

  “You know, for someone who laughed her ass off last year when Paxton opened his locker and five pounds of rice spilled out, you seem to have lost your sense of humor.” Tiffany stood and swung her bag over her shoulder. “If you find it before Friday, come to my party.” She strolled off.

  I frowned after her. How was I supposed to have a sense of humor when my life had been run through the front office’s industrial-sized paper shredder?

  Anyway. I slid the Suspect List out again and scanned it. Eight names, less than I’d feared. There was a little star at the end, where Beverly had noted helpfully that more people disliked me, but these were the ones she thought hated me enough to act on it. Great. I glanced around, wondering who else loathed me too casually to make the list.

  The first name was Natalie; I’d expected that. She’d been officially demoted from assistant squad captain yesterday, and was fuming to anyone who’d listen. She’d be a pain at practice today. If she was the one who’d set the fire, I needed to watch out for more attacks. Clearly, with the switch-up she’d pulled at Homecoming, she was craftier than I’d thought.

  Paxton was on the list, of course. I sighed. This would be so much simpler if it were him. But at the same time I was kind of glad it wasn’t. When he turned on me in eight grade I’d been crushed, when I wasn’t busy being furious. Sometimes I remembered our epic mud battle in the rain one afternoon in sixth grade, how much we’d laughed even though both sets of parents had been pissed at us for tracking mud all over, and wished we were still friends.

  These moments of weakness were brief, obviously, but still.

  My cell phone buzzed. I checked the text message: Meet me at Cloudmonster. From the ex-prime suspect himself. I frowned at my phone, but stuffed the list and the remainder of my lunch into my messenger bag and headed for the far-off junior parking lot.

  I found Paxton leaning on Cloudmonster’s hood. No one else was around, and I felt a jolt of anticipation. Paxton must have discovered something.

  “So?” I stopped beside Cloudmonster and absently patted the blue metal. “Who knew about Ryan and Francesca?”

  “Wow. That’s a great hello.” I crossed my arms, and Paxton rolled his eyes. “Ryan claims only his brother knew on his side. He says Francesca only told her sister.”

  He spoke casually, like we were discussing a history project or something instead of The Betrayal. It was still so hard to think about Ryan cheating. I swallowed the lump in my throat. There was something I had to ask.

  “Did he ... say why?”

  Paxton shrugged and looked anywhere but at me. He was probably afraid I’d cry.

  “He said it just, you know. Happened.”

  Happened. Like a rainstorm. Or an earthquake. I ducked my head. “Whatever.” Digging the suspect list and a pencil from my bag, I laid the paper on Cloudmonster’s hood and added Dane’s name. “Georgette’s already on here.”

  “On where?”

  “A list of people who hate me.” Then what this meant clicked. “So if Georgette knew about them, and hated me, then ...” Was it that simple? “Then Georgette did it?”

  Paxton said what I was thinking. “But ... why?”

  “I have no idea.” Georgette had voted for me and Ryan for Homecoming, or at least she’d claimed to. That Friday she’d seemed perfectly friendly.

  “Well, why is she on the list?” Paxton asked.

  “I don’t know. I’ll ask Beverly. She made it.”

  “So these are people BB thinks hate you?” Paxton craned his head to look. “Who else?”

 
“You, of course. And Juliette.” I chewed on the end of my pen. “You know, she’s been pissed at me since I made you guys late that Friday--”

  “Whoa, you’re admitting to siphoning the gas from my car?”

  I ignored that. “And I guess last year when I put blue dye in your shampoo, Jules accidentally used it too. But I bought her like a hundred dollars of salon shampoo to make up for it.” Plus I’d baked her a double batch of cookies. I flung Paxton a glance. It felt weird to be having a normal-ish conversation with him. “Do you think she’s still angry?”

  Paxton shook his head. “Annoyed, sure. Enough to set boats aflame? No way. Hell, she helped you pull that stunt last year, where all my textbooks were mysteriously superglued with pink fabric covers.” He shot me an irritated glance. “It took me forever to get those off, by the way.”

  I grinned. “I’m sure neither Juliette nor I had anything to do with that.”

  “I saw fabric scraps in her room,” Paxton said dryly. “It’s like I have a spy in my own house.” He straightened. “You know, just because BB thinks these people hate you doesn’t mean they actually do.”

  That made me realize something else. “And just because Ryan thinks only Georgette and Dane knew, that might not be true either. Georgette could have let it slip.” She was a runner, and I’d heard she chattered nonstop unless at an all-out sprint. What if she’d told her track buddies?

  “True.” Paxton glanced at the list again. “Elizabeth Thrasher? I thought you guys were friends.”

  “So did I.”

  “Though she sure was quick to take your spot glued to Alina’s side,” Paxton observed. He shrugged. “Of course, Alina was pretty quick to let her.”

  “Back off the Alina-hate,” I snapped. Wait, why was I defending her?

  Paxton gave me a look that asked exactly that. “Did you know she’s got Class Council ready to vote you out of Treasurer?”

  “What? They can’t do that. I was elected.”

  “They’re going to try.”

  Hurt stabbed at me. I could picture it, too, Alina making the motion, having it seconded. Me sitting there too shocked to respond. With the way she had everyone’s support, the vote would take ten seconds and, legal or not, I’d be asked to leave before I could mount a defense.

  Again, I wondered--who did that kind of thing? The unavoidable answer: sort of a crappy person. Was Alina’s friendship even worth fighting for?

  Then again, maybe Alina wasn’t all good, but she wasn’t all bad either. Whenever I was upset at my parents’ distance or my mom being a diva, Alina listened. Before all this, I’d had a standing invitation to sleep over at her house whenever my parents skipped out of town. And when I’d had to train really hard to get my injured leg into cheerleading shape, she’d helped me with physical therapy. Every day.

  Which made her betrayal even harder to swallow. How could Alina do this to me?

  “Bring your copy of the council charter to the next meeting,” Paxton advised.

  “I’ll do that.” I glanced at him. “Thanks for warning me.” I sounded surprised. Paxton had just saved me from being blindsided. Paxton.

  “She’s a shitty friend,” Paxton said, challengingly. This time I had no response. I looked back at the Hater List and cleared my throat.

  “Natalie’s on here, of course. A couple juniors ...” I frowned.

  “Who?”

  “Marie Harte and Kayla Saunders.” I wasn’t sure who Marie was, but Kayla ... I thought back to Monday, when she and Samantha had, finally, interviewed me about winning the title of Homecoming Queen. They’d both seemed wary of me, as a lot of the underclassmen now did--the ones who weren’t attacking me for Alina, anyway. Was Kayla’s fear just for show? But why would she have it in for me? I shook my head and moved on to the next name. “And Daniel Prince. That’s one of Ryan’s soccer teammates, but I don’t know why he’d dislike me.” Now that I thought about it, though, he was one of the guys who’d shoved me in the hallway last week.

  “I do.” Paxton laughed. “Remember when you put that mouse in my desk?” I nodded. “Well, he sat there to talk to the guy next to me before class started. When the mouse ran onto his lap he screamed like a girl. It was hilarious, until his girlfriend broke up with him on the spot. They must have been already having issues, but he blames you.”

  “How does he know it was me?”

  “I didn’t tell him. I guess he just figured it out.”

  I scowled. “But Tiffany helped me with that!”

  “Yeah, but he secretly wants her. You, he just hates.”

  “Great.”

  “So what’s next?” Paxton asked. I felt a rush of relief that I wasn’t in this alone anymore. Then remembered who I was talking to--and his words last weekend.

  “I forgot: you pity me enough to overcome the fact that I’m selfish and shallow,” I said.

  Paxton colored a little, but shrugged.

  “Seriously. I can help. I could see where Daniel was that night.”

  I considered it. Could I trust him? Paxton had saved me from the student-council thing, so maybe I could. But ... “Only if we call a cease-fire,” I said. “At least until I prove my innocence. I don’t want to be looking over my shoulder all the time.”

  Paxton glanced at me. “I was serious when I said our war was over.”

  “Permanently?”

  He shrugged. I didn’t know what to say. What would a world without Paxton’s pranks look like? I felt lost, as if yet another portion of my life’s foundation was crumbling.

  But peace was a good thing, right? I cleared my weirdly tight throat.

  “Okay. Then I guess the next step is to find out where everyone on this list was on the night of the arson, and cross off people as we go.”

  “Well you can cross off my sister, since she was at home, and Ryan’s brother. And me.”

  “I’m keeping you on.” I squinched my face up mock-suspiciously. Paxton laughed, and I did too. When, I wondered, was the last time we’d laughed together? To cover my sudden bemusement, I glanced at my watch. “Lunch is almost kaput. Let’s go back.”

  As we walked towards the school, the obstacles to my plan gnawed at me. “How am I going to question Georgette without her knowing it’s me?” I mused aloud. “If she was the one who framed me, she’ll clam up if I try to talk to her.”

  “Put a bag over your head.” Paxton smirked. “Actually, that’s not a bad idea in general.”

  “Wow. Good job on the whole peace thing,” I said, more amused than hurt. At least our truce didn’t mean we had to be, you know, nice to each other. “We should send you to the Middle East.” I cocked my head. “Actually, that’s not a bad idea in general.”

  “Har har.”

  I remembered Tiffany’s invitation. “What about a Halloween costume?”

  “Tiffany Becker’s party?” Paxton said, as if he’d read my mind.

  “Are you going?”

  “I think everyone’s going. Daniel is, so I could question him then. He gets drunk easily. You need a ride there?”

  “Don’t you have to pick up Hayley?”

  “Her mom’s birthday is the day of the party, so she’s not going.”

  “Oh.” Then I thought of something. “But I don’t want anyone to know who I am. They might guess, if I show up with you.”

  “I’ll drop you off a block away.”

  “Okay. That works.” This felt beyond weird. Paxton and I were making plans. We were working together. I glanced at the list again. “Anyone we should add before I put this away?” We were almost back to the school.

  “I think you should add BB,” Paxton said.

  “Beverly?”

  Paxton raised a brow. “In case it escaped your notice, she hated you back in middle s
chool when you replaced her as Alina’s favorite pet.”

  “Then why would she give me this list?” I supposed she was hostile, even when helping me. And she liked mystery novels. I answered my own question. “Red herrings?”

  “Maybe. I’m just saying we should check her out before we cross her off.”

  We. I had an ally. The last place I ever would have looked for one, but Paxton acted like it was totally normal to put aside years of loathing. I glanced up at him, wondering if this supportive, friendly side was the one Hayley saw.

  “You know, you’re being pretty decent,” I said.

  Paxton flicked me a glance.

  “Which is shocking, considering the blackness of my soul?”

  I flushed. “I just, you know, meant to say ...” I was practically stammering. “Thanks for helping.” We’d stopped just outside the school doors. I met the brown eyes that made half the girls in school melt, and made myself keep going. “It means a lot.”

  Paxton gave me an indecipherable look and sauntered off.

  That afternoon in Calculus, I glanced over at Daniel Prince and frowned. I’d never considered what the fallout of my prank had done to him. Not that I’d meant to hurt him, of course, but I’d never apologized or anything either. I remembered my dad asking what I’d done to make someone target me, and felt queasy.

  After school, I was passing the senior parking lot when one of the drama kids Alina hung out with tripped me. I nearly fell, but righted myself at the last second. Alina and Elizabeth Thrasher stood at Alina’s Jaguar, laughing. I spotted Paxton and Ryan by their cars, looking uncomfortable. Then Ryan turned away. Paxton met my gaze, and I realized that if I wanted him to stop pitying me I was going to have to do something about all the attacks from Alina’s minions. But calling out every random drama kid wasn’t going to help.

  I marched over to Alina.

  “Ready to apologize yet?” she said.

  I ignored that. “I just wanted to tell you how great I think you are, getting other people to fight your battles for you. It’s just so ...” I snapped my fingers. “Honorable. Yep, that’s the word.”