People Like Us(15)
She grins. “You are so in the dark, it’s adorable. Creepy Greg was Jessica’s boyfriend. Even I know that.”
“So you did know Jessica,” I say, annoyed at her tone. “More than the fact that she took trig.”
Brie’s cheeks flush slightly. “Only through Justine. Anything else you want to ask me?”
“Guess not.”
She leans across the table and plays with the friendship bracelet I always wear around my wrist. It’s one of the few relics I allow myself to wear from home, a simple suede band with a heart seared on the inside. Megan made it for me one summer at camp. “Don’t worry about Tai,” Brie says. “We’ve all been there.”
It always gives me emotional whiplash when she goes from talking about Justine to touching me. “What?”
“She isn’t very nice sometimes. I mean, in her heart she is. But the things she says aren’t. You can’t just slap the label of comedy on anything and expect people to be okay with it. I’ve cried over some of the things she’s said.”
“Like what?”
She shakes her head. “I’m not repeating them. Ever.”
“Why?”
She looks me straight in the eye. “Because if we fought, you’d know exactly what to say to destroy me. And if you said those things, our friendship would be dead with no chance of revival.”
“I can’t believe she hurt you that bad and you never said anything.”
She swallows as if her mouth has gone completely dry. “You’ve come dangerously close to crossing that line yourself, Kay.”
I break eye contact. I just can’t. “But you and Tai are still friends.”
She places her napkin on the corner of the table and begins to methodically smooth and fold it into smaller and smaller triangles. “That’s the way it is with Tai. We all just kind of go along with it. None of us is any better. Everyone has a dark side.”
I push my plate away, my stomach churning, panic beginning to rise as I wonder if my name could possibly be on the revenge blog. After all, Tai’s was, and we’re part of the same group. I’m guilty of some teasing and hazing, too, especially at the beginning of the year and tryout season, but I never do anything downright mean.
Almost never.
* * *
? ? ?
THAT NIGHT, I go for a run on the indoor track. I always prefer running the path around the lake, with the inviting scent of pines surrounding me, but tonight I’m too shaken to run out there alone. When I get back to my dorm, I grab my phone in the dark and dial Justine’s number. She picks up and I can hear Sia playing loudly in the background.
“Hold on!” she shouts into the phone. The music quiets down. “Hey, Kay.”
“Hi. I have a favor to ask.”
“Are you all right?” Her soft voice is tinged with concern.
“Powering through. Do you have Greg’s number?”
“Newman? Weiss? Vanderhorn?”
“Creepy Greg?” I cringe at the words.
“Lots of tattoos, lip ring, Dr. Glares-a-lot?”
“Yes! That’s him.”
She laughs. “You could have described him physically instead of throwing a random nickname at me.”
“Sorry. That’s what Brie called him. I assumed it was a thing. Can you give me his number?”
“Hold on. Let me grab the contact sheet.” I hear the sound of ruffling papers. “What do you need with Judgy McJudgerson?”
“I just want to ask him a few questions about Ms. Lane.”
Her voice softens again. “Oh, honey, do you need to talk?”
“No, I’m fine. I just want to jump-start things back to normal. Move the investigation along.”
“Here we go.” She reads the number to me.
“Muchas.” I hang up and dial Greg’s number. It rings five or six times and then goes to voice mail. I hang up and try again. This time he picks up on the first ring.
“Hello?” He sounds irritated and groggy.
“Hi. This is Kay Donovan looking for Greg . . .” I trail off, realizing I don’t have his last name.
“This is Greg Yeun. It’s not a very good time.”
“Okay, I’m sorry.”
“Wait. Kay Donovan?” He sounds annoyed. “How did you get my number?”
“From Justine Baker.”
He groans loudly. “What do you want?”
“I’ll call back.”
“I’m awake now.”
“It’s eight thirty on a Saturday night.”
“I’ve been up since four. You?”
I bite my tongue. “I’m so sorry to bother you. I’ve been thinking over how rude I was to you today. So I’m sorry for that.”
“Sure.”
“Also, I heard you were dating Jessica and I’m trying to learn a little more about her. I know this is the worst possible time, but—”
He sighs. “Are you a reporter for your school newspaper or something?”
“No. I’m conducting a personal investigation.”
He snorts. “So you’re a future detective.”
“Not exactly. I . . . care a lot about what happened to Jessica. That’s the truth. It may sound weird, but it’s personal for me, even though we weren’t friends.”