Two Can Keep a Secret(24)
They follow Coach Gagnon down the hall. I turn toward Ellery, who’s absorbed in her calendar again. I’m both impressed that she stopped Kyle in his tracks so easily and embarrassed that she thought she had to. Her eyes flick up, such a deep brown they’re almost black, framed by thick lashes. When a pink tinge works its way into her cheeks, I realize I’m staring. Again. “You didn’t need to do that,” I say. “I can handle those guys.”
God, I sound like some puffed-up little kid trying to act tough. Kyle’s right. I am a loser.
Ellery does me the favor of acting like she didn’t hear. “Every time I see Kyle, he’s being an ass to someone,” she says, stuffing the calendar into her bag and hoisting it higher over her shoulder. “I don’t understand why he’s such a big deal around here. What does Brooke even see in him?”
It’s an obvious change of subject, but a fair question. “Hell if I know.”
We enter the stream of students heading down the hallway toward the auditorium. “What was he saying about his sister?” Ellery asks. “Does she go here?”
“No, she’s older. Liz was in Declan’s class. They went out for, like, three months when they were sophomores, and she was kind of obsessed with him. He broke up with her for Lacey.”
“Ah.” Ellery nods. “I’m guessing she didn’t take that well?”
“That’s an understatement.” We push through the auditorium’s double doors, and I lead Ellery toward the farthest corner of the stands, where Mia and I always sit. Ellery and Ezra have been eating lunch with us since last week, and we’ve been doing the standard getting-to-know-you stuff: talking about music, movies, and the differences between California and Vermont. This is the first time I’ve been alone with Ellery since I saw her with her suitcase—and just like then, we’ve skipped past being polite and gone straight for the dark stuff. I’m not sure why, but I tell her, “Liz stopped going to school for a while, and ended up having to repeat. It took her two extra years to graduate.”
Ellery’s eyes widen. “Wow, seriously? Just because a guy broke up with her?”
I drop into a seat at the top of the bleachers. Ellery settles in beside me, lifting her bag over her head and placing it at her feet. Her hair is a lot more under control now than it was the first time I met her. I kind of miss the old look. “Well, she wasn’t great at school to start with,” I say. “But the McNultys blamed Declan. So Kyle hates me by association.”
Ellery gazes up at the rafters. They’re filled with banners from Echo Ridge sports teams throughout the years: a couple dozen in football, basketball, and hockey. For such a small school, Echo Ridge brings home a lot of championships. “That’s not fair. You shouldn’t be blamed for whatever’s going on with your brother.”
I have the feeling we’re not talking about Liz McNulty anymore. “Welcome to life in a small town. You’re only as good as the best thing your family’s done. Or the worst.”
“Or the worst thing that’s been done to them,” Ellery says in a musing way.
It hits me, then, why talking to her feels so familiar sometimes: because we’re two sides of the same coin. Both of us are stuck in one of Echo Ridge’s unsolved mysteries, except her family lost a victim and mine has a suspect. I should say something comforting about her aunt, or at least acknowledge that I know what she’s talking about. But I’m still trying to figure out the right words when a loud “Heyyyy!” rings out from our right.
Mia clomps toward us with Ezra in tow. They’re both wearing black-and-white Fright Farm staff T-shirts, and when I raise my brows at them Mia crosses her arms defensively over her chest. “We didn’t plan this,” she says, dropping onto the bench beside me. “Purely a coincidence.”
“Mind meld,” Ezra says with a shrug.
I forgot the twins started working at Fright Farm this week. Half the school does; I’m one of the few kids at Echo Ridge High who’s never even applied there. Even if it hadn’t scared the crap out of me when I was younger, there’s too much of a connection to Lacey. “How’s that going?” I ask, turning toward Ellery.
“Not bad,” she says. “We’re checking wristbands at the House of Horrors.”
“Primo job,” Mia says enviously. “Brooke hooked you guys up. So much better than serving slushies to toddlers.” Mia’s not a fan of anyone under the age of twelve, but she’s been stuck working in the kids’ section of Fright Farm for more than a year. Every time she angles for a transfer, her boss shuts her down.
Mia sighs and props her chin in her hands. “Well, here we go. At long last, the mystery of who’s going to come in a distant third for homecoming queen will be answered.” The bleacher rows closer to the floor start filling up, and Coach Gagnon heads toward the podium at the front of the room.
“Viv Cantrell?” Ezra guesses. “She’s been posting pictures of her dress on Instagram.”
Mia makes a face at him. “You follow Viv on Instagram?”
He shrugs. “You know how it is. She followed me, I followed back in a moment of weakness. She posts about homecoming a lot.” His expression turns thoughtful. “Although, I don’t think she has a date yet.”
“You should unfollow,” Mia advises. “That’s way more information about Viv than any one person needs to have. Anyway, she doesn’t have a shot at homecoming court. Maybe Kristi Kapoor, though.” At Ezra’s questioning glance, she adds, “She’s on student council, and people like her. Plus she’s one of, like, three other students of color in our class, so everybody can feel progressive when they vote for her.”