Trust(16)

“You might as well relax and deal with it,” said Sophia. “It hasn’t been that long. We’re not going to be the only ones to recognize you.”

She probably had a point. Didn’t mean I had to like it.

“Word will definitely get around,” confirmed Hang, sipping on a soda. “John Cole is infamous around here.”

“Infamous?” I asked.

“Oh, yeah.” Hang pushed her tray aside, giving up on the salad. “He’s the go-to local greenery guy. Best weed available, if you’re into that. Even the jocks respect him. They need him for the weed, and apparently he’s got connections to a great grower. Plus he’s badass. His brother, too. Dangerous guys. They live together; the parents are out of the picture.”

“You know a lot about him,” I said, mildly perturbed. “And I thought marijuana had been legalized in California.”

“I may have once had a small crush on him. Don’t judge me. As for the marijuana,” Hang shrugged, “everyone’s underage, so it might as well still be illegal.”

“I heard John’s closed up shop,” said Sophia. “Pretty much dropped out of school society. Just spends all his time out at the old skate park.”

Carrie nodded, twirling a strand of her long hair around her finger. “Yeah, I heard he’s stopped selling too. Ever since the robbery.”

“All the police attention, probably,” said Hang.

Of course, the fact that he’d even vaguely known Chris had made him dubious. But if he hadn’t talked to Chris, kept him calm, I might not be alive today. At the very least, I owed the guy a huge thank you.

“I’d appreciate it if you kept me being part of the robbery on the down low, for now,” I said, trying out a smile. It didn’t quite hold, didn’t fit right. “I just . . . I can do without the attention, you know?”

“Of course,” said Hang, giving my hand a reassuring pat.

Carrie and Sophia both nodded, though their eyes were skeptical, with a touch of excitement. Whatever. Besides wearing a paper bag over my head, there wasn’t much I could do if someone recognized me. Hopefully other people in the local area were busy doing stupid newsworthy things and all memories of the Drop Stop would soon be forgotten.

“Thank you.” I sighed, doing my best to relax, to trust.

He never made an appearance in the cafeteria. Not that I was waiting.





Either someone talked or someone recognized me. Whatever. It was beyond my control.

The first person who approached me after lunch was my new lab partner in Biology. Caleb drummed on the table with two pens, putting on quite the skilled performance. Beside him had been one of the only spare seats in the room.

“Hear you’re tight with John,” he said. “Could you do me a favor?”

I stopped fussing with my stuff. “No, I’m not, and no, I can’t. Sorry.”

“Don’t be like that.” He gave me a slimy smile. “What was your name again?”

Groan. “I’m telling you the truth. I don’t really know him and I can’t help you.”

At that, he mumbled, “bitch,” picked up his stuff, and moved to a different table. Funny, just like what had happened with Kara, the words didn’t carry the usual sting. Having a gun held to your head helped sort out the big things in life from the little. So, some stranger’s opinion of me given in the form an uninspired insult? Not a big deal.

Fact was, lacking mutant mind-control powers, I couldn’t affect people’s behavior or what they chose to talk about. If I was doomed to infamy for a while, so be it. New school, new mantra, new me—and I had no fucks to give.

A moment later, a tall black girl climbed into the seat at my side, giving me a friendly smile. She introduced herself as Marie, and at no time during the class did she mention John or hit me up for drugs. Much better.

The next John Cole-related encounter came at my locker at the end of the day.

“The natives are restless,” said Hang, a wary look in her eye. “People have been talking about you.”

“Yeah. I noticed,” I said.

“With the whole John thing, you’re too interesting to be ignored right now. Sorry.”

I shrugged.

“I swear it wasn’t me, Carrie, or Sophia. I threatened them both with physical violence if they said a word to anyone.”

“Thanks.” I smiled. “It’s okay. Probably inevitable.”

A boy on a skateboard pulled up alongside us with a hopeful smile.

“No,” said Hang, going into beast mode. “She doesn’t know him. Go away. That stuff kills brain cells, don’t you know? Ask yourself, can you really afford to lose any? No, I don’t think you can. Good-bye.”

The smile fell from his face and he got gone.

“John was the guy with the connections around here.” Hang sighed. “But they’ll get the message eventually that you can’t help them with getting weed out of him.”

I nodded.

“You don’t talk much, do you?” Hang hugged a Trig textbook against her body. “I guess I wouldn’t either if I’d been through something like that. It’d seriously have to mess with your head. Not to say that you’re unstable or anything. Just being exposed to that kind of violence right there in front of your face must really screw up the way you look at the world, right? I’ve never seen a dead body. I mean, my grandfather died at home, but my mom wouldn’t let me go into the room and then the paramedics arrived and he was gone. So . . .”