Chapter Sixteen
Faith
Of all the infuriating… Faith climbed upstairs to her room, hardly noticing how she got there. What was going on with her and Kyle? Every so often, she thought he might actually be warming up to her, then he closed down. She’d thought he’d be the exact opposite—trying to charm his way into her tights with everything he had—but he kept going cold on her. Was she really that boring, not worth his time? God, how could she live knowing she wasn’t good enough for Kyle Sawyer? Everyone was supposedly good enough for him.
Sure he was cute, but was it worth being toyed with? Or constantly wondering what would make him close off?
Not even. Maybe she should call off the whole plan.
But that moment at the nursery…when he’d stood right behind her. She’d made a joke about it, thinking then he was just playing her. After she had time to think about it, and how quiet he’d been on the way home, she had to wonder. The plan aside, what did she really know about Kyle? Were his shifting moods about something else?
She paced around the room, staying away from the window so she wouldn’t be tempted to check on him, thinking about all the things that didn’t add up. First, there was the way he treated his pickup. That truck was close to a calamity, but he coaxed it into running like a patient dad with a temperamental toddler. Granted, he needed it for work, but he didn’t have the reputation of being gentle with vehicles. The word at school was he tortured his Charger, drag racing down Mill Road on the weekends.
Was that even true?
And what about the rumor he had a pack-a-day habit? She’d seen zero evidence of cigarettes anywhere, not even a whiff on his clothes. He played baseball, and was supposedly really good. Why would an athlete risk his body like that? Oh, sure, she knew tons of dancers who smoked, but that was because they were starving themselves for a part. She didn’t know any athletes who did—and she knew most of the football and track teams, thanks to Cameron.
There were also rumors about shoplifting, graffiti, and general hooliganism, but where was the evidence?
Who was Kyle Sawyer?
She tapped a finger against her lips. Violet worked in the school office during third period. Could she look up his record, see if he’d ever been suspended? Because he disappeared once or twice a year, and everyone suspected he was doing in-school suspension. What if it that wasn’t true? What if he’d been sick or gone on a vacation? None of this was making sense.
Flopping down on her bed, she fished her phone from her pocket to text Vi and ask, then sat up again fast. Sweet Mother of Unicorns, there were eighteen—eighteen—texts on her phone.
Fifteen of them were from girls at school, all along the lines of, “You’ll never guess what I heard!” and “Is it true? Seriously?”
There were two messages from Violet: Girl! It’s out—I don’t know how he did it, but I’m hearing from everyone.
The last text was from Cameron: You hold me off for months, now you’re hooking up with that asshole? I was only with Holly because you hurt me. You don’t have to throw it in my face like this.
A grim smile spread across her face. Maybe being toyed with was worth it after all.