Until the Day I Die(64)

I know I should be nice, but I can’t muster the energy. I feel like there’s a thick cloud wrapped around me. And now, thanks to Dele, I’m being pummeled by memories of camping at the lake with Mom and Dad. When we’d go on hikes, Dad used to sing the songs from Wicked with me. He knew the words but used to mess them up on purpose, just to drive me crazy.

“Do you want me to go pick up some breakfast for you before I go?” she asks. “I could get you an Egg McMuffin, or one of those vegan sausage rolls from Mama Mocha’s.”

I shake my head. My throat suddenly feels clogged, and I’m scared I’m going to cry. Which I don’t want to do. Not in front of Dele.

Dele swings around in her chair to face me. She’s shadowed one eye but not the other, and she looks like a spooky but beautiful supervillain.

“Can I ask you something?” she says.

“Sure.”

“Where are all your books?”

I swallow. “My books?”

She stares at me. “Are you going to your classes?”

“Yes.” I swallow again, but I can’t get rid of the lumpy feeling in my throat.

She smiles. “Then where are your books?”

“There’s only been two days of classes. I haven’t bought them yet.” I stomp over to the bathroom and slam the door. After I pee and wash my hands, I stare at myself in the mirror. She’s waiting for me to come back out. I have the feeling she knows, but I haven’t decided yet if I’m going to tell her. The thing is, I could use a friend.

I slip back in the room. Dele is working on her left eye.

“So, I’m not taking any of my classes,” I announce. “I’m still officially enrolled, I’m just not going.”

She spins in her seat, makeup brush poised in the air.

“Holy fuck balls,” she breathes. “Really?”

I nod. “I paid a guy to have another girl take my classes.”

“You did? What guy?”

“The guy I met at the food truck.”

“Wait. Why don’t you want to go to class?”

“Because something weird is going on with my dad’s company. Jax. My mom’s away . . . and I need to figure it out.”

She’s gaping at me now, shocked by what I’ve said. But I know I haven’t told her the truth. Playing Nancy Drew is not the real reason I’m skipping. It’s never been the real reason.

I take a deep breath. “I’m too sad and messed up to sit through class with a bunch of supermotivated brainiacs. I don’t think I can do it. I’m scared I’ll fail and wind up losing my scholarship.” I meet her eyes and say it louder. “I’m afraid I’m going to let my father down.”

She nods, wide eyed. “So you noped the fuck out.”

I nod.

“You should’ve told me.”

I bite my lip. After a moment, she climbs onto my bed, crosses her legs, and pats the space beside her. I join her and let the rest of it spill out: the server report error, the spyware, the money, and the missing journal. Rhys and I seeing Ben at the barbecue restaurant and my dad’s message about the letter he wrote me. I even tell her my doubts about Rhys, my concerns that maybe he’s connected to what’s happening at Jax.

By the end of the story, she’s looking at me like I’m Wonder Woman and James Bond all rolled into one.

“Also?” I say. “I kissed him. Rhys.”

Her eyes widen.

“His dad died too. But that’s not why I kissed him. It is maybe why I paid him more than four thousand dollars without really thinking it over too long. We have a lot in common.”

“It’s definitely a moral dilemma,” she says. “But look, I think it’s okay what you’ve shared with Rhys so far. But you don’t have to tell him anything else. Not one thing. What you absolutely have to do is go to Birmingham, get into Ben’s house, and find your dad’s journal.”

“You think?”

“Shorie! That journal is missing for a reason. It definitely has information in it, something your dad noticed about the glitch you saw or something else, I don’t know—but that is definitely why that shit gibbon, Ben, stole it.” She wags her head ominously. “The journal is evidence.”

“Then he’s probably already burned it or thrown it in a river or something.” I pop my knuckles slowly, one by one.

“Or maybe he’s trying to alter it somehow and will put it back in your dad’s office later. That’s why you have to try to find it. Shorie, I don’t mean to stir up more drama than you already got going on, but I don’t think you realize how big this is. Jax is a successful, well-known company. And an employee stealing from it—maybe even two employees—is going to be big news. Especially because of everything that just happened with your mom.”

I blink, an animal in headlights.

“I mean”—she speaks carefully here—“don’t you think it’s a little coincidental that she had this random blackout and got sent away to a Caribbean island at the exact same time all this weird Jax money stuff was going down?”

My mouth opens but nothing comes out. Of course I knew that. I just hadn’t heard anyone put it in such clear, concise terms. And now that Dele has, I’m really nervous. Super crazy nervous. And flooded with guilt.