Elite (Empire High, #2)(51)

“She’s not on the list,” Miller said.

“Please.” My voice cracked.

He didn’t respond. He just kept driving in the opposite direction of my old neighborhood. “Only if you tell me what’s wrong,” he said.

I lifted my face out of my hands. “It doesn’t matter.” Blabbing on Isabella the first time just made everything worse. I wouldn’t be making the same mistake twice like I had at lunch. As far as I was concerned, around Mr. Pruitt and his staff, Isabella’s name would never fall from my lips again.

“It matters. Tell me and I’ll turn the car around.”

For the first time since James had lunged across the table at Matt, I felt a teensy bit of hope. Miller was going to let me see Kennedy. “There was a fight at school…”

“Are you okay? Did you get hurt?”

“No. Nothing like that.” How could I say this without incriminating my devil sister? “Everything just blew up between some of my friends. Matt…he…lied.” I know he technically just hadn’t told me the truth. But the truth was momentous enough that his omission felt even worse than a lie.

Miller kept driving in the wrong direction, so I figured he needed more than that.

“James is upset with him. They’re all upset with each other. And I just need to talk to Kennedy.”

He still didn’t turn around.

“I think she’s upset about what happened at Felix’s this weekend. I haven’t had a chance to clear the air with her.”

No response.

“And Felix is mad at me too. I’m pretty sure you already knew that. Can you please, please just take me to Kennedy’s? She’s the only person still speaking to me and I’m worried that she’s going to pull the plug on our friendship too. And I don’t know what I’d do without her.”

Miller put on his blinker and I breathed a sigh of relief.

I didn’t say anything else in fear that he’d change his mind. When we pulled up to the curb of my old apartment building, I practically flew out of the car.

I pressed the call button. “Mrs. Alcaraz, it’s me…”

The door buzzed before I even had a chance to explain why I was there. I didn’t even realize that Miller was following me until I heard his heavy footsteps behind me on the rickety old stairs.

Mrs. Alcaraz was standing in her doorway, an apron around her waist and the smell of delicious food hanging in the air around her. “Mi amor.” She pulled me into her embrace and I felt calmer than I had in days. The familiar smell of spices in the air and the soft fabric of her worn clothes almost made me want to start crying again, but this time from joy. It was so good to be home. She squeezed me so tight, like she was happy I was home too. I didn’t ever want to let go.

“I’m so glad you’re here. She won’t talk to me,” Mrs. Alcaraz said. “I’m worried sick.”

I pulled myself out of her arms. I guess I wasn’t the only one worried about Kennedy. But Kennedy and her mom talked about everything. I was surprised Mrs. Alcaraz wasn’t shaking her head at me for being a terrible friend.

“No,” she said before I could respond. “You are not allowed in my home. Be gone.”

I turned around to see Miller standing there awkwardly. “It’s okay, Mrs. Alcaraz. He’s one of the good ones.”

She’d reserved all her head shaking for Miller. “Nunca. Not in mi casa.” She untied her apron like she was going to whack him with it.

“Please, Mrs. Alcaraz.” I grabbed her hand to prevent her from whatever she was about to do. “I’m not allowed to come in unless he comes too.”

She sighed and lowered her slapping hand. “Mi amor, do not trust a rat.”

It was probably one of the rudest things I had ever heard her say. But I didn’t have the energy to diffuse the tension. I needed to see Kennedy.

“Please just don’t touch anything,” I said to Miller as I stepped past Mrs. Alcaraz. The last thing I needed was for him to turn over every lamp and couch cushion in their small apartment. There wasn’t anything dangerous here. Especially since it seemed like the only person who wanted me dead was Isabella. And she’d never be caught dead in a place like this.

I knocked on Kennedy’s bedroom door but there was no response. Less than a week ago, this had been my room too. As far as I was concerned, she couldn’t kick me out of our room. I opened the door.

Kennedy was curled up in a ball on her bed, staring at the wall. Staring at nothing at all.

“Kennedy?”

She didn’t turn her head, but I heard the distinct sound of her sniffling.

“Kennedy?”

She still didn’t acknowledge me.

And that was fine. Because I knew what she needed, and right now that wasn’t words. I kicked off my shoes and climbed in bed beside her. I wrapped my arms around her and her body shuddered as her tears started anew. I just held her tighter. And the longer she let me hold her like this, the more sure I was that I wasn’t the one she was mad at.

“Tell me what’s wrong,” I whispered.

“I can’t.”

“You can tell me anything. You know that.”

She wiped at her eyes and turned to face me. “I lied at lunch. I’m not dating Cupcake anymore.”