Call It What You Want(3)

Unfortunately, I didn’t hate him. And afterward, I heard every whisper.

Did Rob know? He had to know.

I didn’t know.





CHAPTER FOUR

Maegan

Dad drops me off in his police cruiser, as usual. I wish he’d do it around back, where kids won’t see me climb out of the black-and-white sedan, but he thinks people won’t mess with his little girl if they know her dad’s a cop.

He’s right. No one messes with me. No one really talks to me.

It has nothing to do with the fact that he’s a cop.

It has everything to do with the fact that I got caught cheating on the SAT last year—and a hundred kids’ scores were invalidated.

Dad reaches over to give my shoulder a squeeze. “Have a good day now, sweetheart.” His voice is deep and rumbly. A good cop voice. “Text me if you need someone to pick you up, okay?”

“Okay.” I lean over to kiss his cheek as his radio starts squawking codes. He smells like soap and menthol. “Love you, Daddy.” But he’s already reaching for his radio.

Then I’m out in the cold, and his cruiser is pulling away.

The first bell doesn’t ring for another fifteen minutes, and it’s cold as crap on the quad, but the concrete is still crowded with students who have no desire to start their school day early. Most of them are debasing themselves to Connor Tunstall, who’s leaning against the flag stand, talking about some party over the weekend.

“Seriously,” he’s saying. “They couldn’t even get the keg down the stairs between the two of them. I ended up carrying it myself.”

“All by yourself?” his groupies chorus, fluttering around him. “Can you pick me up? I bet you can’t pick me and Sarah up at the same time.”

He grins at them. “Come here. Let’s see.”

Ugh. I would have no time for a guy like that. He and Rob Lachlan used to run the school, until Rob’s dad got caught embezzling from his clients and tried to blow his head off. Now Connor’s the only one sitting on the throne. I have no idea what happened to Rob. He’s like a ghost now, flickering from class to class. We have AP Calculus together or I wouldn’t know he went to school at all.

My best friend, Rachel, peels herself away from the fringe of the crowd and attaches herself to my side. She waits for me every morning, even though I’ve told her she doesn’t have to. Most of the drama died down before school let out last year.

Back then, I could barely walk across the quad without getting spit on. You don’t invalidate a hundred kids’ SAT scores without a few repercussions.

Rachel is one of the few people who stuck by me after I got in trouble. It’s hard to be part of the brainiac crowd when everyone thinks you cheated your way in. Rachel and I have been friends practically since birth, so I know she’ll always have my back.

She links her arm through mine, though she’s really too tall for it to be comfortable. Her dad’s this hulking, blond, Nordic-looking cop, while her mom is a tiny, round, second-generation Mexican. So Rachel has light brown skin and curly dark hair, combined with a stocky build and broad shoulders, and a height that tops five foot eleven. She’s taller than most of the guys in the junior class and prettier than most of the girls.

“Do you think Connor Tunstall stands in front of a mirror flexing every morning?” she says.

“Are you kidding? He probably takes a daily selfie.”

She giggles and pulls at the front door. “How’s Sam feeling?”

My heart freezes in my chest. Mom’s warning is an echo in my head. “What?”

“You said she was sick Friday night.”

Right. I did say that. Rachel and I were supposed to go to the movies, but then Sam walked in the door and threw up. “Oh. Yeah. She’s fine. Food poisoning.”

It sounds like I’m lying. I don’t know if it’s from being a cop’s daughter or what, but I’m a terrible liar. That’s why I folded when they accused me of cheating last April. Rachel’s going to call me on it, and I’m going to dump the truth on her feet.

But she doesn’t call me on it. She doesn’t even give me a funny look, just accepts it at face value and tows me toward her locker.

Somehow that’s worse.

Her boyfriend, Drew, is waiting when we get there. He’s tall, with deep brown skin and eyes, and he’s built like a linebacker, which makes sense since he plays football. His parents own an upscale restaurant at the edge of town, and they expect Drew to work most evenings, so between that and football, his grades sometimes pay the price.

I’ve known Drew since grade school, but he and Rachel have only been going out since midsummer, when he drunk dialed her to profess his love. I can think of more romantic overtures, but she didn’t seem to mind. I personally think he’s a little abrasive, but he’s good to Rachel. She’s been such a good friend to me that I want to be able to return the favor.

He grabs Rachel by the waist and gives her a sloppy kiss.

I sigh. Rachel giggles.

I can probably be a good friend without watching an exchange of fluids. “I need to get to math,” I say breezily, turning away.

“Eyes on your own paper, okay?” Drew calls behind me. Then he cracks up.

Rachel hushes him, but it’s too late.