Chapter One

It Doesn’t Matter How You Play the Game, Only Whether You Win or Lose

 

 

 

Blood red.

And death black.

Whoever picked out Cherry Grove High’s school colors was an idiot.

Either that or a serial killer.

The hideous color combination blurred across the gym floor, spinning in the cheerleaders’ skirts, bouncing in the pom squad pom-poms and slicing through the air in the quivering band banners. Except for the bizarre Goth meets Glee effect, the scene was flawless. Even the shouts echoing off the walls were just right.

Outside, beyond the gleaming floor-to-ceiling windows and careful flowerbeds, past the student parking lot dotted with Nissans, Volvos and European SUVs, early autumn trees shaded the tidy streets with the first brush of rust, orange and red leaves. It was Cherry Grove after all—anything less than perfection would be inconceivable.

The bleachers were jammed with students, some actually excited about the annual back-to-school pep assembly, the rest just screaming like mad, glad for the chance to be crazy on the first Friday afternoon of the new school year.

From her spot at the boosters table, Lexi Welks could see it all. The teachers huddled in the corner by the wrestling mats drinking Diet Pepsis and eating popcorn, the basketball players lined up under the net, shoving each other, wanting to be the one standing closest to the podium, and the mini-mob of freshmen trying to squeeze themselves into the tiny niche that led to the empty space behind the bleachers. Apart from the chaos stood the football team, arms folded over their Cherry Grove jerseys and looking like they’d rather be anywhere but where they were—right in the center of the attention.

“Here’s your baseball fundraiser auction sign-up sheet.”

Monica Sanders, coming up out of nowhere like a giant weed that not even the deadliest dose of Roundup could get rid of. One of the wicked plants from Little Shop of Horrors.

Only this plant had a nonstop figure wrapped up in a come-screw-me black turtleneck. Half the guys in the school wanted a piece of her. The rest wanted her ACT scores.

Lexi?

Up until a week ago, she and Monica had been friends. And now Lexi was paying the price for what had seemed like fun at the time.

Monica looked over Lexi’s shoulder, waved at basketball center Eric Watson, then came back with a careful smile, showing off her bleached teeth as she slid into an empty chair. “Not that the sign-up is going to do you any good. You know, with next year.”

Lexi took the sheet, dropping it onto the table as though she wasn’t the least bit concerned. Which, of course, was a huge lie. Because getting the right names on that single sheet of paper would change her whole life.

“Can I have your attention? Students?” Dr. Guerra, the superintendent, tapped on the microphone, sending out a series of heart-thumping thuds.

It worked—even the cheerleaders shut up, dropping to the floor to sit cross-legged like a row of overgrown preschoolers. “We need a moment before we get started with the pep assembly. Could everyone please welcome Officer Davenport from the Cherry Grove Police Station?”

“Where else would he be from?” one of the newspaper nerds muttered. “7-Eleven?”

The cop slid behind the mic, adjusting his navy blue uniform tie while he waited for the losers in the back rows to catch on to the idea that he had something other than the D.A.R.E. essay winners to announce. Once the room fell silent, he started talking about Jon Eagle, the kid who’d gone missing a couple of days before. Each word out of his mouth made the knots in Lexi’s stomach pull tighter as images of that night skittered through her mind.

“We’ve been checking leads and retracing Jon’s steps. We’re in constant contact with his family—they’ll be informed as we uncover substantial information.” He flattened his square palm across his jacket lapel, pausing dramatically as he looked out at the faces. “We know how distressing this is for you all, for all of us. For those of you who’d like someone to talk with, your lead counselor, Mrs. Howell, has added appointments before and after school. She’s assured me and all your parents that she’ll do anything she can to help you through this difficult time.”

Monica took out her pretty pink leather-bound planner and wrote down the officer’s name. Then she waited, pen poised, for anything else noteworthy.

“Please keep in mind,” he continued, “that we have no evidence of foul play at this time. There is no reason to believe that anyone else is in danger.” He went on to add that the detective in charge thought that Jon had been in touch with kids who, for some reason, were choosing not to tell anyone. “If that’s the case, we urge you to come forward at this time.” Contact information flashed from the huge ceiling-mounted projector onto the wall behind the podium. Lexi barely held in her roll of nausea as Monica jotted down the counselor hours, the hotline phone number and email address with one hand, all the while texting with her other.

But that was Monica Sanders. Smart. Capable. Efficient. And a real self-serving jerk. Too bad it had taken Lexi three months to figure it out.

“Thank you for your attention.” Dr. Guerra was back at the mic, struggling to say something press and parent friendly. “If we all work together, we might… Maybe we’ll… Jon might…” Thank God she finally gave up, because while two band geeks in the front row were snapping pics, some of the yearbook girls over by the art teacher were starting to cry. A cloud of awkward silence filled the gym, everyone’s face tense. Everyone’s except Monica’s. She was dumping her stuff back into her bag and getting to her feet, all while looking as fresh and fantastic as ever.

“Taylor told me to ask you if you had questions about the sign-up,” she said as she pushed the chair back. This time she wasn’t even bothering to hold on to that flawless, fake smile.

“You mean like why are you even bothering with yours?” Lexi tapped her own sheet with her finger. “Because all the names that matter are going right here.”

Monica practically snorted as she spun on her heels, swinging away without a reply.

Lexi watched the girl’s model-perfect ass until she ducked through the red and black cluster of drumline kids clogging the double doors at the end of the gym.

Once she was sure the girl was gone for good she picked up the sheet, staring at the empty rows and imagining the names she needed scrawled across those blank lines. Planning how she’d get them there. And fighting back the fear of what Monica would do when she did.

 

* * * *

 

Something about Ash Carpenter set him apart from the other guys at Cherry Grove. Every last one of them stressed about each mundane detail of their self-absorbed lives, going through entire tubes of Clearasil picking between Vans or Etnies, Samsung or iPhone, but Ash had everything under control. Strategic. Even doing something as dull as walking across his kitchen, he looked like he could handle anything. And the fitted black T-shirt he was wearing made the watching that much better. Sure, he looked good in those tight baseball uniform pants, but the snug T-shirt showed off his hard-looking biceps and shoulders.

The lemon glow from inside the stainless steel fridge blinked as he ducked down to pull out a carton of chocolate milk. After several gulps, he leaned on the shiny silver door, slanting a sexy, boyish grin at Lexi. “You don’t care about me asking you over last minute, right? It’s hard to talk at school, and everything was so crazy after the pep assembly, ya know? I think that cop stressed everyone out so badly, they just rushed for the doors once it was over. I know I was glad to get out of there, get away from all the drama.” He lifted his eyebrows. “As soon as I got in my car I thought of you. That’s when I sent the text.”

The out-of-nowhere invite had made her curious, but considering the circumstances—and the auction sign-up sheet tucked in her bag—she wasn’t about to waste time with questions. “No worries about it being last minute.” She flashed him her best video girl smile. “I’m just glad you did.”

Stretching forward, letting her red, rescued-from-the-clearance-rack Ralph Lauren sweater pull tight across her 34Bs, she rested her elbows on the huge oak table. “Will your mom be home soon?”

Still holding the carton, Ash shoved the fridge door shut, stepped over to toss his long leg across one of the round-backed oak chairs, and sat.

“Don’t know.” He took another drink, wiping his full lips with his knuckles after he swallowed. “I don’t have to tell her where I’ll be or what I’m doing. She knows I can handle myself.”

Lexi’s gaze locked with his and a wave of uncertainty washed over her. What went on behind those long-lashed green eyes? Most of the time he was pretty much the typical jock—friendly but not all that open, smart but not so smart people thought he was weird. Was there more to him than he let on?

One thing was for sure—he’d come a long way since his World of Warcraft middle school days. Even went so far as to change all his friends. Now everyone at school talked about what an awesome guy he was, but the chatter was always vague. Like the new group he hung with never got inside his head.

What that meant to Lexi was that she had nothing to go on, no tidbits of useful gossip to guide her, help her pinpoint the best way to get what she needed from him—a simple signature on a sheet of paper. She looked around the kitchen, but there was nothing hanging on the fridge or sitting on the counter that revealed a private side of Ash. Nothing, until she spotted a stuffed squirrel perched on top of the corner cabinet, its beady glass eyes staring down at them. Creepy. But it was the only thing she had, so she pointed up. “Cute taxidermy. You make that in science club with your dad?”

Ash didn’t turn to look where she was pointing. “Nope. My dad’s favorite student did.”

Lexi tried a giggle. “You had to be his favorite.”

“No, I wasn’t,” Ash replied, his voice flat, his expression unchanging. “Never once in all the years he was in charge of the science club did he ever say I was his favorite.” Ash shifted to look up at the squirrel, staring at it for a while before speaking again. “The science club building has been closed up ever since my dad died. Not even the favorite student gets to play mad scientist anymore.”

The truth sat between them—now that Ash’s dad was dead, he’d never get the chance to be the favorite. She scrambled for something to say, anything to keep Ash from bringing up the fact that her dad had died, too. Even though it was something they had in common, it wasn’t a conversation she wanted to have. Not then. Not ever. “Parents. Whatever.”

Ash’s gaze inched across her shoulders, the tension gone as one corner of his mouth lifted, revealing a dimple on his left cheek. “I bet your mom doesn’t understand you, not at all. I know what that’s like,” he went on, letting his gaze drop to the deep V of her sweater. “For people not to get you. But my mom is cool.”

Glad to have the topic of dead dads behind them, Lexi shook off the sadness that always came on the heels of thoughts of her dad as she smirked and rolled her eyes. “‘Mine’s got her own ideas about the way things are.”

And she could stay tuned to that imaginary station as long as she liked, but not Lexi. Reality wasn’t a problem for her. She had a plan. College was her ticket out of Cherry Grove. After she graduated from high school she’d get out of the place and be on to an actual life that meant something.

Thinking about all the mess with Monica, that last day in Cherry Grove couldn’t come fast enough. To make that happen, she had to keep up the I’ve-got-it-all-going-on act. The one she was in the middle of now.

“What about your stepdad?” Ash took another drink, studying her with curious eyes. “Does he understand you?”

The idea of Dale understanding anything at all almost made her laugh out loud. But that was another topic of conversation she wanted to avoid. Keeping the disgust off her face, she replied, “He got another out-of-town welding job, so he’s not around.”

Thank God. Even though her mom clung to the ridiculous hope that the three of them might be a family again someday, Lexi was glad Dale was trying out for Absentee Dad of the Year.

“Coach Filpot was asking about him the other day.”

“Dale?” Trying to wipe the very un-cute shock off her face, she added, “Why?”

Ash set down the milk, picked up his keys, started tossing them fist to fist. The light jingle created a soft rhythm. “Since Jon graduated last year, we don’t have him catching anymore.”

“So?”

“It’s gonna be a tough season, that’s all.” He started tossing the keys more quickly and the sound got louder. “Remember freshman year, when your stepdad assisted? He’s good. Knows how to make people do what he wants them to. Coach wants him back.”

As if she could forget Dale hanging around every minute of every practice. He’d only offered to help because at the time she’d been going out with the first baseman and being the assistant coach had given him the perfect opportunity to butt into her business. Unfortunately for her, he knew some stuff about baseball and had actually contributed to the success of the team.

“What about Jon?” Lexi asked, doing everything she could to keep the tension out of her voice. “You heard anything from him?”

Ash stopped tossing the keys. “Nope.”

“He’s freaked everyone out by running off like that. Just completely vanishing, without saying anything to anyone.” Anxiety made her ramble on. “That’s not really like him. Even though he’s kind of a nerd, he’s not a loner. Did somebody go with him, do you think?”

Smirking, Ash said, “Like he met someone while playing League of Legends?”

Jon the uber techy gamer. It was possible. Lexi hoped that was the case. It was way better than some of the alternatives she’d dreamed up. She reached up and swiped away the fine sheen of sweat on her forehead.

Ash tipped back in his chair. “His mom’s lost it.” He nodded to his cell sitting in the middle of the table. “She keeps calling me—and everybody else on the team—asking if he’s called or texted. Or been on Facebook.” Still chuckling, he dropped forward, then started flipping his keys again, the metallic jangle breaking up the silence.

Lexi couldn’t take talking about disappeared Jon anymore. “When does practice start anyway? Maybe I’ll come watch, cheer you on.”

“Not for months.” Still holding the keys, Ash set his left hand on his right shoulder and swung his elbow up. “I didn’t know you were interested in baseball.”

Lexi straightened, arching her back. “It’s the best sport to watch. A guy has to be really confident. It’s not like football, where everyone’s running around at the same time, hiding under those stupid helmets and pads while they smash into each other like idiots.” She tilted her head, hoping to look casual as she tiptoed around, testing the waters. “Besides, I’m a member of the athletic boosters. We’re all supportive of the players.”

Ash frowned as he set the keys next to the milk carton.

“You know,” she continued, artfully twisting a strand of hair around one pink acrylic nail, “we have that auction every fall. The one where you guys get to help us raise money for equipment by being someone’s personal assistant for the day? Since you’re the pitcher that kind of makes you the leader and—”

“Yeah, about that.” The light went out of his eyes. “Being someone’s personal ass is—” His cell’s ringtone, an old song from The White Stripes, cut through his words. He checked the display. “Jon’s mom. Again.”

He slid Lexi an apologetic grin, answered with an adult-friendly ‘hello’, and immediately started reassuring Jon’s mom that he hadn’t heard anything from the guy. Not one word. Email. Or text.

She shifted away from Ash, taking in each carefully coordinated inch of the Carpenters’ Home Channel kitchen. Yellow roses dotted the curtains and dishcloths, deep-green ivy crept up the walls. Tidy rows of white plates and matching mugs sat on the shelves. The desperately successful combination mocked her as minutes dragged by. Intentionally blocking out Ash’s end of the conversation with Jon’s mom, she stewed on the manageable part of her dilemma. The part that didn’t threaten to tear her world apart. The way she saw it, there were two possibilities.

Get Ash on her list—significantly increase chances of replacing Taylor as the athletic boosters’ president for next year.

Lose Ash to Monica—watch Monica accept the post. And the recognition and, more importantly, the instant respect that came with it.

The garage door opener clicked on, followed by the rattle of the door going up. Mrs. Carpenter. So much for using them being alone to her advantage. Despite what Ash said about his mom being understanding, Lexi knew having a mom around changed everything. Especially when it came to guys.

Lexi’s cell vibrated. She checked the screen—her best friend, Jasmine Panjiwani, asking for a status update. She looked back at Ash, ready to offer him a flirty grin, but his gaze was focused on the other side of the kitchen where Mrs. Carpenter was coming in.

He covered the phone with his hand, speaking softly to his mom, “Jon’s mom again.” Glancing at Lexi, he frowned, adding, “Sorry, I guess this is gonna be a while. I’ll get you tomorrow or something, okay?” He turned away, giving Jon’s mom his full attention.

“Sure.” This opportunity was over. She grabbed her bag then slid out of the chair, slowing only just enough to say hi to Mrs. Carpenter, but the woman cornered her.

“Isn’t it awful?” she said, clutching a grocery bag. “Ashton and I, with his dad gone, I don’t know what I’d do if he ran off like that. Left me all alone. Poor Mrs. Eagle.” There was an awkward pause while Ash’s mom stared off into space, thinking about God knows what. Then, just when Lexi thought she was going to get free, the woman leaned close enough to deliver a cloud of White Linen. “Are you and Ashton dating?”

Dating?

“Um, no.” She glanced at Ash but he didn’t seem to be paying attention to this super awkward moment. “We’re just talking about school stuff.”

“Oh. Well. That’s nice.” Mrs. Carpenter lowered the bag, took a relieved or disappointed—Lexi couldn’t tell which—step back, and started unpacking the groceries. “You come over any time, dear.”

Talk about weird.

Lexi called thanks over her shoulder as she rushed through the stiff, overdecorated living room.

Outside, she scurried to her embarrassing, beat-up blue Saturn parked by the curb. The car took two tries to get it started. Once the engine was rumbling, she switched the radio on, then pulled out onto Oak. Familiar houses blurred past and within ten minutes she was turning right, onto her street. The one street in picture-perfect Cherry Grove lined with shabby houses and punctuated by broken-down cars. Not even the charming fall trees made much difference. It was the section of town everyone else pretended didn’t exist.

She parked on the side of the driveway closest to the neighbor’s house, right next to their tattered basketball net. A cat screeched, the wiry hound dog across the street barked then howled. Some kids were shouting from a yard a couple houses down. It was the usual thing. Trying not to look at the drab ordinariness, she stomped through the crunchy leaves scattered across the walk and headed for her door.

No matter what it took—hiding secrets, avoiding reality, dealing with Monica—she’d get away from Cherry Grove. No way in hell was this place going to be her future.