Pushing Perfect(31)

We clinked bottles and I took a sip of the ginger ale—I’d never tried that kind before, and I was surprised to find that it burned my mouth a little. It was like I finally understood what ginger ale was supposed to taste like. “You were right about the spicy,” I said.

“Good, isn’t it? Let’s see if it goes with the chocolate.”

It didn’t, really. Raj made a face. “Should have taste tested that one.”

I took another drink. “It’s not that bad. It gets better after the first sip.”

“So you weren’t crazy about it at first, but then you got used to it? Kind of an acquired taste?”

He wasn’t the most subtle. And he’d gotten it all wrong. I decided to ignore it. “Thanks for the Novalert,” I said. “It really did help.” Which was true, at least with respect to the test. No need to get into anything else.

“Glad to hear it,” he said. “Did you have any problems? Any side effects? They’re not usually too bad, but it’s worth being aware.”

“You sound like a doctor.”

“I get that from my parents,” he said. “Along with the prescription pads, of course.”

That explained some things, at least. “You seem to know a lot about this stuff. Have you been taking it long?”

“Oh, I’ve never tried it,” he said.

“No mixing business with pleasure, is that it?”

“I wouldn’t really call this business. I just help my friends out on occasion.” He looked over at me; I was trying to hide my skepticism, but apparently I wasn’t doing a very good job. “I’m not some nefarious underworld figure, trying to hook all the children on drugs so they’ll be in hock to me forever. Is that what you thought?”

The way he said “figure” kind of melted me a little. That accent! I hated all this going back and forth I was doing in my head—it wasn’t like I could ignore how cute he was, or his voice, or how I hadn’t realized he had such nice lips until he’d pointed to them, but nothing he was saying really changed anything. He might not be a nefarious underworld figure, but I’d bought the Novalert from him, and now bad things were happening to me. I didn’t see that fact changing anytime soon. “It just seems like a dangerous thing to do.”

“Not if I’m careful. Besides, I like being someone my friends can count on.”

How had I ended up in a position where the person I’d bought drugs from made me feel like a bad person? A bad friend? “It sounds like you have a lot of friends,” I said. “For someone who just moved here.”

“Well, I’m quite social, in case that wasn’t obvious.”

“Not me,” I said.

“I’ve noticed. Alex will put an end to that soon enough, if you let her. And I’m happy to help as well.”

“Thanks,” I said. My phone buzzed from where I’d left it on the coffee table. I really, really hoped it was Alex, telling me about the party, or that she’d found a new Prospect, or that Bryan’s puppy dog eyes were having an effect on her. I picked it up and read the text.

First favor: get more Novalert. Instructions to follow.

Oh no. I started to feel sick. The Novalert was definitely out of my system now.

I had to get Raj out of the house before I lost it. “Listen, I’m really wiped out. Thanks for coming by. You should go back to the party. I’ll see you in school, okay?”

“Okay,” he said, though he looked a little bummed. “Until Monday, then.”

“Right, Monday.”

As soon as the door closed behind him I looked at my phone again. Instructions to follow? What kind of instructions? When were they supposed to follow?

I had to go back to my lists. Raj had distracted me from what was really important: figuring out what was going on. I read over what I’d written and realized it was all stupid. The real question was simple: Who was Blocked Sender? I’d now received texts when both Alex and Raj were in the room with me, and though it was possible either one of them was working with someone else, it just seemed too crazy. And risky. Would a blackmailer really take that kind of risk? I didn’t think so. Then again, what did I know about blackmailers?

I felt a little better at the thought that Alex and Raj were unlikely suspects, but that left me with no idea who the likely suspects were. I couldn’t do this myself. I had to trust someone. But my track record in that area was not so great.

I had to try. I had to be better now. I steeled myself, then got out my phone and texted Alex.

Something’s happened. Call tomorrow morning as soon as you get up.





12.


The phone rang at seven the next morning, much earlier than I’d expected, given that Alex had probably had a late night. “Love the cryptic text,” she said. “What’s up?”

“I don’t want to talk about it over the phone,” I said.

“Coffee?”

“Too public. Can I come over?”

“No problem,” she said. “My room’s still trashed from last night, but you don’t care, right?”

“Not even a little bit.” Her room was the least of my concerns.

I stopped at Philz on the way over and got us coffees and two of those amazing croissants I’d had with Ms. Davenport. “I’m cleaning,” Alex said when I got there. We’d left a pile of clothes on her bed after choosing her outfit for the party, and apparently she’d just pushed them all onto the floor before going to sleep. Now she was moving them back onto the bed.