A Bad Day for Sunshine (Sunshine Vicram #1)(33)

“Asshole,” she said, disappointment consuming her. Sun saw this becoming an issue if she didn’t get her hormones under control.

Quince accepted her insult with a shrug and a nod. “I’ve been called worse.”

Two minutes later, he pulled into the high school parking lot, threw the SUV into park, then turned to her, doing the sober thing again. “You didn’t tell me that.”

She shifted in her seat. “Tell you what?”

He scratched at a stray thread on the steering wheel. “You were drugged.”

He needn’t have explained any further. She knew where he was going without saying another word. “It’s so weird. That is at the very top of my Things I Never Want to Talk to Quincy About list.”

Though she didn’t remember even a tenth of what had happened to her, it was still a violation of epic proportions. There was still a barrier she couldn’t quite get past, even with her best friend.

When she turned to get out, he stopped her with a hand on her arm. “I get that, Sunny. I always have. But you were drugged. You went through the same thing Sybil described in her letter. You felt the same. Weak. Disoriented. Scared.”

She finally saw the hurt and anger in his deep blue eyes. She so rarely considered what he went through that summer, and it was unfair and selfish of her to leave without an explanation. But now was not the time.

“I’m sorry, Quince.”

“I know. Bad timing. But now that we’re working together, we are going to talk about it. Eventually.”

She swallowed hard, then nodded. “One of these days. Scout’s honor.” She hurried out of the cruiser before he could question her again, but he caught up with her easily.

In a tone that told her everything was okay between them, he pointed out one pertinent fact. “You were never a scout.”


Auri had always thought of herself as a bit of a Goody Two-shoes, a tad uptight when it came to throwing caution to the wind, and when she saw her mother enter the building wearing full sheriff regalia and a frown the size of Texas, she remembered why.

Self-preservation.

She took a hit off her inhaler and sank down in the chair that sat across from Corrine’s desk in the main office. And Corrine’s desk sat in front of the door to the principal’s office, the same principal who was busy eyeing her with a combination of disappointment and humor as he ate lunch at his desk. Corrine was taking her lunch, as well, and the scent of baked turkey and green chile subs from the Bread Basket made Auri’s mouth water.

Mr. Jacobs had already let Cruz go. She had no idea if he’d gotten ahold of Cruz’s dad or not, but when Cruz left the office, he didn’t seem particularly upset.

Then again, not much seemed to ruffle him.

Quincy stepped inside the building with her mom, and Auri’s mortification exploded, bringing tears to her eyes. So now both her mouth and her eyes were watering.

Principal Jacobs stood when he saw the law enforcement officers enter, and Auri could only pray that they’d talk about the incident inside his office. The bell was about to ring, and everyone in school would see her being interrogated for breaking and entering.

Sunshine Vicram stepped into the office, her expression completely neutral when she cast Auri a quick glance before addressing the principal. He summoned Auri with a crook of his finger.

Time slowed as she walked past Quincy, ignoring the look of encouragement he wore—she didn’t deserve it—and took a seat in front of Principal Jacobs’s desk.

It was good to see Leo again on that very desk. She could only pray Principal Jacobs wouldn’t tell her mom about the lion’s adventure or the spray paint fiasco. Her mom had enough to worry about with Sybil missing.

Principal Jacobs motioned for her mom to come around to his side of the desk, while explaining, “It seems your daughter broke into the counselor’s office and went through her things. I’m just foggy as to why.”

Her mom leaned over and looked closer at his computer. Was there surveillance footage? No way was there surveillance footage. And yes, telling herself that made her feel better.

“Of course, after the morning she’s had, I’m more than willing to hear her side of it.” He left the sentiment hanging, and Auri slammed her lids shut.

“What do you mean?” her mom asked. “What happened this morning?”

While Sunshine’s expression and posture remained neutral, Auri could hear the stress in her voice. The edge in her tone.

Auri curled her hands into fists and clenched them tightly. Her mom didn’t need to know what happened this morning.

Mr. Jacobs glanced at her in surprise, then pressed his lips together. “I just mean, it’s her first day, and the first day at a new school is always difficult.”

Quincy had been hanging back near the door to the office when the bell rang. To Auri’s horror, one side of the room was all glass, just like the main office, and looked out into the hall. Students filed by, and Auri slid down in her seat.

The deputy maneuvered himself, using his wide shoulders to create a barricade between two bookshelves so the students going by would be hard-pressed to see who sat in the hot seat.

Auri could’ve kissed him right then and there if it wouldn’t have been inappropriate. And a little gross.

“Auri?” Sunshine asked, straightening, the edge in her tone sharpening.