Lovely Girls(43)

“No, no. It’s not that. She’s just going through a lot. The bullying, and now Genevieve’s accusations. Opening up a new store will take a lot of time and energy, and I want to make sure I’m around for her.”

Joe put his hands in his pockets and looked around at the space. The sun was shining through the front windows, highlighting the dust motes floating in the air. The light was nice, if a little intense.

“I guess you didn’t follow my advice of not getting on Genevieve’s bad side,” he said.

“I guess I didn’t. But I know my daughter. She’s not a bully.”

“Of course she’s not. And the idea of Alex bullying Daphne is ridiculous.” Joe shook his head. “No one could bully Daphne Hudson. Quite the opposite, from what Sean tells me. One of his friends asked Daphne out, and she practically ran over him and then backed up over his dead body. That kid probably won’t ask out another girl this decade. And I get it, freshman boys should know better than to approach senior girls, but Daphne didn’t have to absolutely destroy him.”

“That’s just it,” I exclaimed. “Daphne has been bullying Alex, not the other way around. And it wasn’t just normal kid stuff. Daphne and her friends made hundreds of copies of a newspaper article about Alex’s father’s death and left them all over the school. And they hung a Ken doll in Alex’s locker that was supposed to be Ed’s dead body.”

“No.” Joe exhaled. “That’s pretty serious. At what point does it qualify as criminal harassment?”

I shrugged helplessly. “I have no idea. But this isn’t the first time Daphne has bullied another girl at the high school. Another girl left the district to get away from that clique of girls. She has a history of this behavior.”

“Have you reported the bullying to the principal?”

“No. Alex asked me not to, and I want her to feel like she can trust me to talk about what’s going on in her life. But I’m not sure that’s the right call.”

“More anonymous texts,” Joe said. “Just like the one I got about my now ex-wife.”

“I thought about that too. How common are anonymous texts? I’ve gotten texts from strangers trying to sell me things, but I’ve never gotten an anonymous text from someone who knows who I am.”

“I looked into it. It’s not that hard. There are websites that you can log into anonymously and then message through that platform. If you want to target someone, all you need is their phone number. The recipient can’t really do anything about it.”

“They can block the texts.”

“Yes, but if the sender was really determined, he or she could just create another anonymous account and send a text from a different anonymous number.”

“Who would go to that trouble to harass someone?” I asked, bewildered.

Joe shrugged. “I don’t know. It seems like the more advanced our technology gets, the more people figure out a way to weaponize it against one another.”

“Genevieve said the texts were abusive. They called Daphne a whore and a slut.”

“There are some sick people out there,” Joe commented.

I nodded, although I remembered Alex’s speculation that Daphne had sent the texts to herself. I didn’t know which scenario was worse.

“Hey.” Joe reached out and gently took my hand in his. “It’s going to be okay. Don’t worry about Genevieve. She’ll get over it and move on.”

“I don’t think she will. I think she’s the sort of person who holds a grudge.”

“She’ll be too busy with her plot to take over the world. Or to be cast in one of those reality shows where the housewives are at one another’s throats. I think she’d be happy with either option.”

I laughed. “I could actually totally see her on one of those shows.”

Joe leaned over then to kiss me. The touch of his lips against mine caused a swirl of warmth to flood through me. Joe rested one hand on my waist, and the other cupped the back of my neck. I relaxed into him, trying to push aside my worries and stay in the moment.

And then my phone rang.

“I think that’s your phone,” Joe murmured, his lips millimeters from mine.

“I’m ignoring it.”

“It’s okay.” Joe straightened. “I’m not going anywhere.”

I looked at my phone. It was the school. My stomach dropped.

I hit the accept button. “Hello.”

“This is Evelyn Montrose calling from Shoreham High School. I’m calling for the parent or guardian of Alex Turner.”

My heart began to race as though I’d been spiked with a shot of amphetamines.

“This is Kate Turner. I’m Alex’s mom. Is everything all right?”

There was a maddening pause. “Principal Hopkins has scheduled an emergency meeting for the parents of players on the girls’ tennis team for four o’clock this afternoon. Attendance is mandatory.”

“Why? Has something happened?” I asked.

Joe looked at me, his expression concerned. I shrugged to signal I had no idea what was going on.

“There’s a situation Principal Hopkins wants you to know about,” Ms. Montrose said delicately. “She’ll explain it all at the meeting.”