Torched Page 14

  But wait. Did this make any sense? Before I could think it over I saw Natalie in the dining room, pouring rum into a shot glass. I headed over. If she were drunk enough, I could question her and she wouldn’t even notice.

  I reached her side, but she was concentrating on pouring the tiniest bit of Diet Coke onto the liquor in her shot glass. I decided to make a screwdriver, and reached across her for the orange juice so she’d notice me. Natalie glanced over and grinned.

  “Hey, great costume!” She cocked her head. “I can’t even tell who you are.” She reached for my mask. I backed up a hasty step.

  “You don’t know me, I’m Paxton’s cousin. Lisa. I live in L.A.” I sounded like a robot, probably because I was distracted with wondering whether Georgette’s laughter behind me meant Ryan was flirting back. Thankfully, Natalie didn’t seem suspicious.

  “Ooh, you have the hottest cousin ever! But don’t tell him I said that.” She laughed. “I’m Natalie.” She was dressed as a very skanky Queen of Hearts, wearing what amounted to a pink bathing suit with the appropriate card sewn onto it, plus a crown. From the appreciative stares being sent her way, it was a hit. Her suit and the bottom of her hair looked damp, as if she’d already taken a dip in the hot tub out back. Goosebumps covered her arms.

  “Aren’t you cold?” I asked.

  “I won’t be after this!” Natalie took the shot.

  “How many of those have you had?”

  “Not enough!” She laughed. I gauged her to be about an hour away from passing out upstairs in Tiffany’s room. I leaned over.

  “Hey, I heard there was a Sunshine Bats concert up here a couple weekends ago. The Friday before last, I think. Did you go?”

  Natalie shook her head. “But I have their CD!”

  This was about as true as unicorns, since I’d made up the band name on the spot.

  “Everyone in L.A. hearts them like crazy,” I said. “What could have possibly been more important than seeing Sunshine Bats play?”

  Natalie shrugged. “Maybe they’ll come back here soon!” She poured us both shots of what smelled like peach schnapps. I realized the beak on my mask killed my ability to take a shot, so when Natalie tipped her head to knock hers back, I poured mine into the screwdriver I probably also wasn’t going to be able to drink.

  “No, seriously, where were you that night? It was two weeks ago to the day.” Two weeks since my life shattered like Humpty Dumpty off his wall. If there was any way to put it back together again, I’d find it.

  Natalie’s face scrunched up. “Oh! That was my ex’s and my one-year anniversary. He took me to the movies. To see a slasher flick. On our anniversary! Obviously, I cut him loose the next day. I AM A FREE WOMAN!” she shouted to the room.

  Pete Jones, one of the varsity linebackers, sidled up to her. “How free?”

  Natalie turned and looped her arms around his neck.

  “Freer than you can handle, Jonesy!” She kissed him, and in three seconds flat they were full-on making out.

  I slipped away to the kitchen, pausing by the sliding glass doors that opened onto the porch. Well, I’d have Paxton double-check with Natalie’s ex, but if they’d been at the movies that Friday, I could cross her off my suspect list. I was disappointed. Natalie framing me I could have handled, since I already knew she’d chopped the “fr” off of “frenemy.” But apparently it was someone else.

  Outside, Paxton stood next to the keg, chatting with Daniel Prince. I studied them.

  “Hi, cutie.” I turned to find a couple of soccer guys grinning at me. They offered me a beer; I held up my cup to show them I already had a drink. They started hitting on me, so I left to find the bathroom. I used the one on the second floor, then trotted back downstairs. I needed to find Elizabeth. She got sick after one cup of beer, so she usually played designated driver. By now I bet she’d be bored enough of our drunk classmates that she’d talk freely.

  I passed some guys in togas and went back to the living room. People were dancing to the loud music. I scanned the crowd for Elizabeth until someone tapped me on the shoulder. Hoping it wasn’t one of the guys who’d been hitting on me, I turned.

  It was Ryan. The bass beat against my ears as my heart sped up to match it.

  “Hey.” Ryan sipped his beer. “Lila, right?” He eyed my cleavage, then my legs, and I felt my eyes narrow. Who was this Ryan, this cheater and sleaze ball? Certainly not my Ryan. Had he ever been the person I thought I knew?

  “Lisa,” I corrected, trying to pitch my voice higher.

  One corner of Ryan’s mouth quirked up. He leaned over.

  “Well, Lisa, you have the same legs Rose does.” He pulled back to look at my peacock mask. “And the same eyes.”

  I froze, searching his green gaze. Ryan knew it was me. He hadn’t ogled some random girl, but me. Something warm pooled in my stomach, but it hurt too, that someone who knew me by my admittedly-fabulous legs had betrayed me.

  “Who’s Rose?” I raised my chin. “Some girl whose heart you broke?”

  Ryan’s forehead grew two vertical lines between his eyebrows.

  “She broke my heart,” he said, so quietly I barely heard him over the music.

  I stared at him, then caught sight of Georgette out of the corner of my eye. She wanted to be Ryan’s next girlfriend, but Ryan was supposed to have made out with Francesca. Why would Georgette help her twin with a hookup she herself wanted? And now Ryan was acting like he was the wounded party. Something was very off here.

  I planted my palm in the center of Ryan’s bare, warm chest and pushed. He stiffened, but stepped backwards. We slipped out of the living room, into the hallway. I kept pressing, slowly, and Ryan kept going, one hand grazing the wall behind him. Finally we reached the corner of the darkened hall, where no one could see us, and he bumped to a stop. I slipped my mask up onto my brown wig and met Ryan’s gaze.

  “Ryan, did you cheat on me with Francesca Richmond?” There. Point blank.

  Ryan looked away, then back at me.

  “Yes.”

  He’d taken too long. I didn’t believe him. If he’d lied, did that mean he hadn’t cheated on me? But then why pretend to? Why, why, WHY?

  “I don’t know why you’d lie to me about that,” I said.

  Ryan swallowed and stepped sideways to slip past me. As he did, he muttered one thing more.

  “We’ll talk soon.”

  Chapter 14

  “We’ll talk soon? We’ll talk soon?” I punched the steering wheel. Ow. I shook out my hand. “What does that mean?” I was driving us home, since thanks to the peacock mask now tumbled with my foam tail and wig in Paxton’s back seat, I hadn’t been able to drink all night.

  “I guess it means you’ll talk soon.” Paxton leaned back in his seat looking utterly relaxed. He’d had a few beers, but I didn’t think he was more than slightly buzzed.

  “But do you think he’s lying about hooking up with Francesca?”

  “I don’t know.”

  I heard the edge in Paxton’s voice. He didn’t want to think Ryan was lying to him. I dropped it.

  “So what about Daniel Prince?”

  “He’s got an alibi.” Paxton closed his eyes and stuck his hand out of the open window, letting it surf the wind as I drove. “He was at his uncle’s wedding.”

  Hm. “That wouldn’t go past midnight, though, right?”

  “He claims he went home with one of the bridesmaids.”

  I scoffed. “Yeah, right.”

  Paxton opened his eyes and looked at me across the darkened car. “He might be lying about that, but Daniel’s not the brightest flower in the bouquet. I don’t think he’s your guy.”

  “Then who? It’s not Natalie.” I told him what I’d learned. “Oh, and Georgette freaking Richmond wants to date Ryan,” I
said as I pulled onto our street. “She basically stamped him with a ‘he’s mine, bitch,’ tattoo when she caught me looking at him tonight.”

  Paxton didn’t say anything until I’d parked in his driveway. I cut the engine.

  “That’s weird,” he said finally.

  “Right?” I sighed. “But I don’t know what it means.”

  “So what’s next?” Paxton asked as we got out.

  “Well, I found out the juniors on my Hater List are both members of the Science Club.”

  “You think this might be a revenge-of-the-nerds situation?”

  I laughed. “The guy with Star Trek boxed sets in his desk is calling other people nerds?”

  Paxton’s eyes narrowed. “Speaking of your breaking and entering escapade, are you going to give back that folder you stole?” He leaned on the fabric top of the car.

  “Are you going to tell me what the gorilla costume was for?” I matched his glare until Paxton shook his head, admitting defeat. “Anyway,” I said, grabbing my costume accessories from the backseat. “Science Club meets in the library every Wednesday night.”

  “So, what are we supposed to do--spy on the Science Club and hope one of our suspects boasts of framing you?”

  “Something like that. I’m still working on how to get them around to the topic.” I tossed Paxton his keys across the top of the car. He caught them with one hand. Nope, not more than slightly buzzed. I was a little disappointed. Drunk Paxton might have answered certain questions I had--like why he’d turned on me in eighth grade. That had been bugging me for days.

  Scratch that. Years.

  “I am not joining the Science Club just to question them,” Paxton declared. “In case that was your plan.”

  I shook my head. “The quarterback suddenly joining the Science Club would be way too conspicuous. The plan is still a work in progress.” I started toward my house, then paused. “Thanks,” I said. “For helping tonight.”

  A flicker of surprise crossed Paxton’s face. I suddenly felt ashamed. Did I never thank people or something? Maybe I was full of myself.

  “No problem,” Paxton said.

  “How much do I owe you for the costume?” I asked. My conscience nagged at me, and I took a deep breath. “I should pay for the other one too.”

  “Don’t worry about it.”

  “But--”

  “Seriously. Don’t worry about it.” Paxton sounded like his dad did whenever our families went out to eat together and the Callaways insisted on picking up the check. I’d bet Paxton inherited his dad’s stubbornness, but I didn’t want to be indebted to Paxton for a Halloween costume. He was already helping me a ton. And I didn’t want to take that for granted, the way ... the way I’d taken Alina and Ryan for granted. The way my mom took everything for granted.

  “Thanks,” I said meekly, resolving to sneak a few twenties into his wallet when I got the chance. My allowance probably couldn’t cover the entire cost--not that Paxton seemed likely to tell me what that was--but I could at least reimburse him for part of it. “Good night,” I said, and trudged towards my house.

  “Hey,” Paxton called. “Count me in for whatever on Wednesday.”

  I waved and kept going, but now I was smiling.

  Monday at school was, if anything, worse than last week. Now that Alina had called off her Army of Elbows and Shoves, I just felt ... ignored. I worked myself to exhaustion in cheerleading practice to smother my hurt. It only helped a little.

  After practice, I noticed Hayley was extra-slow packing up her stuff. I had to check in with Mrs. Yancey over the entry fees and papers for semi-regionals coming up, and by the time I jogged back to the gym only Lindsay, who still drove me to and from school, and Hayley were still there. I grabbed my bag and waved goodbye to Hayley.

  “Waiting for Paxton?” I asked her.

  “No. I drove myself today.” Something strange flashed across her eyes. I paused.

  “You okay?” I expected her to say yes, she was just tired or on her period or something, but the look slid over her face again and I saw she was about to cry. I told Lindsay I’d meet her out by her car, then pulled Hayley over to a bench and made her sit down. “What’s wrong?”

  Hayley burst into tears. “We broke up.”

  “You broke ... you and Paxton broke up?” She nodded, still crying. I blinked, stunned, then grabbed a towel from my gym bag and handed it to Hayley. “When?”

  “Yesterday. He brought flowers and I thought we were going out, but then he said we needed to talk.” A fresh bout of tears cascaded down Hayley’s face.

  “I’m so sorry,” I said, and hugged her. “Do you want to hang out tonight? I could make brownies.” I’d never heard anything about her and Paxton having problems. This was so out of the blue. But Hayley didn’t need me to point that out.

  Hayley gave a watery hiccup. “No, I have to baby-sit for my neighbor tonight. I’m okay. I just ... I thought he loved me. You know?” Her hands clenched the towel.

  “Yeah. I know.” I’d felt the same about Ryan. Did I still love him? I once thought I always would, no matter what. But Ryan was lying to me, and I didn’t know why. Guys were supposed to lie and say they hadn’t cheated, not the other way around. It made no sense. I patted Hayley’s back until she’d recovered enough to go home.

  Half an hour later, I was back at my house and fuming. Guys were dirt, just absolute muck. How dare Ryan lie to me, and how dare Paxton crush the sweetest girl in school?

  Ryan I couldn’t yell at, but Paxton ...

  I marched over to the Callaways’ house. Paxton’s car was in the drive, so I went inside and ran upstairs. His room was empty, but I heard the shower running down the hall. I was banging on the bathroom door before I could think twice about it.

  Movement inside, and then the door whipped open. “Rose?”

  “Way to go, Callaway. You’ve won first place in the jerkwad awards.” Then I realized Paxton was naked but for a blue towel around his waist, held by one hand at his hip. I swallowed. That was a lot of skin. My eyes skimmed the top edge of the towel. Suddenly I felt like I was a sophomore again, noticing Paxton’s new football chest for the first time.

  Paxton stood there dripping, then swiped water from his face.

  “This isn’t an emergency, is it?”

  “Um.” My mouth was open. I shut it.

  “Whatever it is, can it wait until I’m done with my shower?” Then Paxton noticed me staring. He grinned. “Unless you wanted to join me.”

  That was enough to snap me out of drool mode.

  “Wow. Break Hayley’s heart one day, then hit on everything that moves the next. Classy.”

  “Is that what this is about?” Paxton scowled. “How is it any of your business?”

  “She’s my friend. It’s my business.”

  Paxton rolled his eyes and shut the door in my face. I felt flushed, and told myself it was because I was angry.

  “Rose?” The voice came from the top of the stairs. I tried to look casual as I turned.

  “Hey, Jules.”

  “What are you doing?” Paxton’s sister held her schoolbag in one hand and a tall glass of milk in the other. A pop tart balanced on the rim.

  “Just harassing Paxton,” I said.

  Juliette glanced at the closed bathroom door, then back at me.

  “You really think he’s going to confess while he’s in the shower?”

  “What? Oh. No, Paxton’s not the one who framed me. Hey, you want to join the Science Club? Just for one meeting?”

  “Not really.” Juliette hesitated. “I’m almost afraid to ask why.”

  “I need to find out where a couple people were the night I was framed, see if they had anything to do with it. They’re in Science Club, so--

 
“Never mind. If this is prank-related, the answer’s no. I’m done with you and Paxton’s crap, remember?”

  “It’s not a prank. I told you, Paxton didn’t frame me. But I have to find out who did.” I realized Juliette didn’t need to infiltrate the Science Club to question the juniors. “Look, you’re friends with one of the girls, Kayla Saunders. Do you think--”

  “You know what I think?” Juliette’s voice was sharp as she padded past me with her snack. “I think you should quit pretending someone else set that fire. And I think you should go the hell away.” She disappeared into her room, managing to slam her door using just her elbow.

  I stared after her. I’d known Juliette was still annoyed over the gas-siphoning prank, but for the first time I realized she might be carrying around genuine hostility. Clearly, her help was not going to be forthcoming any time soon.

  Thinking about my Hater List, I wondered if I even deserved it.

  Feeling silly standing outside the bathroom while Paxton showered, I went downstairs and grabbed a soda. Mrs. Callaway always told me to help myself, and my parents said the same for Paxton and Juliette. But after a couple of minutes, my anger over Paxton dumping Hayley started to drain. Was this any of my business? I felt dumb. Why was I waiting around?

  Before I could leave, Paxton appeared at the entrance to the kitchen. His damp blonde hair dripped dark spots on his red T-shirt. He eyed me, then moved toward the refrigerator. He was limping a little.

  “Does your ankle still hurt?” I asked.

  Paxton threw me a glance.

  “Of course not. I’m faking, remember?” He grabbed a flexible cold pack from the freezer. Sitting on one kitchen chair, he propped his left foot up on another chair, wrapped his ankle in a dish towel, and velcroed the cold pack on. I frowned.

  “Don’t sprains take, like, weeks to heal? Shouldn’t you be staying off of it?”

  “We’ve got a game this Friday. If we lose, we won’t make playoffs.”