Changing the Rules (Richter Book 1)(44)

She was quiet.

“I want you to come.”

Jax picked at the grass. “I’m not sure I can.”

“You can’t work seven days a week.”

“Actually, I can.” She looked to her side. “I can’t talk about this right now.”

“Really, why?”

“Lewis.” His name was a warning.

“I hear voices. Like you’re in a park.” He sounded angry.

“I’ll call you later.”

He huffed. “Just tell me something.”

This conversation had gone on too long. “What?”

“. . . is there someone else?”

“What? No.” It was her turn to be pissed. “I told you—”

“Yeah, that you’re working. But we both know you don’t have to work. And since you’ve reduced me to once a week, I’m starting to think it’s all bullshit.”

“I do have to work.” She whispered the last word and spat it at him at the same time. “I have to go.”

From behind her, her name came out in a girlish scream. “Jaaax!” Next thing she knew, Ally was practically jumping on her before plopping at her side. “I’ve been looking for the party girl all day.”

“What the—”

“Goodbye,” she told Lewis before hanging up the phone.

“Ewww, that sounded bad.”

Jax rolled her eyes. “My dad is so annoying.”

“Did he find out about the party?”

“I stayed with Claire so he wouldn’t, but he’s suspicious.”

“That sucks.” Ally laid on the grass. “Saturday was epic. I think I was drunk until Sunday afternoon.”

“You didn’t seem drunk. You were bouncing.”

“I know.” She sat up, rested on her elbow. “I think I was roofied,” she said, smiling.

Jax wanted to deny that. “Did you pass out?”

“No. I didn’t at all that night. Crashed big time Sunday afternoon.”

“So you didn’t take anything on purpose?”

Ally shook her head. “Not my thing.”

The girl was sixteen, she didn’t know what her thing was. Nevertheless, Jax was happy to hear she wasn’t seeking drugs on purpose. “Who would put drugs in your drink?”

“I don’t know. Maybe it was just the tequila . . . or vodka.”

The bell rang and they both stood. “Next time, stick with me,” Jax told her. “I’ll keep anyone from spiking your drink.”

Ally put her arm around Jax’s shoulders. “Yeah, we girls need to stick together.”

Jax tossed her uneaten lunch in the trash can as they walked by. “Hey, if you see Russell, can you point him out?”

“Sure, why?”

“His uncle is gonna hook me up with a fake ID,” she whispered.

Ally jumped in front of her and stopped. “Get the fuck out. No way.”

“That’s what he said. I mean, before the party broke up.”

“Dude! I want one.”

Jax’s first thought was, Ally wouldn’t pass for twenty-one with a fake ID. “Okay. I mean, I don’t know if he’ll do it. But we can ask.”

They started walking again. “I probably shouldn’t go bursting up to him and asking about an ID.”

“Probably not.”

“I wonder if he’ll be at the Nunez party.”

Jax felt tired just thinking about it. “I heard it might be canceled.”

Ally pouted. “That would suck.”

The warning bell rang. “Shit, I can’t be late to Mr. Levin’s class.”

Jax waved the other girl away.

Instead of heading for her class, she walked toward the girls’ bathroom and texted headquarters.

By the time she made it to the administration building, her pass to leave campus was stamped and she was headed toward the parking lot.

Manuel leaned on the side of a security car, eating a burger.

She walked up to him and handed him her pass. “Any luck with the car?”

“Didn’t show up for school.”

“I’m ducking out early.” She needed to deal with Lewis before he did something stupid and blew her cover.

“Copy that.” Manuel looked beyond her as if bored.

“If you see Ally jumping in any cars, make note of the plates.”

“Got it.”

“See ya,” she said under her breath before heading to her car.



Claire stood outside B building after the final bell and waited for Mrs. Appleton to walk out before she made her way inside.

“I was starting to wonder if you were coming.”

“I was on the other side of campus, sorry.”

Mrs. Wallace indicated one of the front seats, and Claire sat down. “Before we get started, I have to tell you . . . your behavior in this classroom has been nothing short of appalling.”

Time for a lecture. “I know.”

“Why?”

“Can I be honest?” Claire asked.

“If you can keep the profanity out of it.”

Claire squeezed her eyes as if in pain. “It’s so freaking boring! I mean, not you. Shakespeare.”