“Hey, Lara! Wait up!” Nessa caught Lara in the hallway.
“What’s the story?” Lara usually responded with this greeting. And as other people spoke, she always played with her array of colorful bracelets, creating a jingly background in all conversations.
Nessa gave Lara her pitch. “Still mad you’re not on the list even though you’re obviously fabulous? Mad there’s a list at all? Well, have I got an answer for you.”
“This is a strange infomercial,” Lara answered. Jingle, jingle.
“I’ll cut to the chase.”
“Thanks.”
“We know that Brody Dixon wrote the list. We have a witness. And Brody has been bullying girl after girl after girl, and”—Nessa eyed the people around them—“and we are going to find proof that he did it and show it to a packed crowd at final curtain call of The Music Man. We need all awesome girl hands on deck. You in?”
“Um.” Lara put a finger up in the air. “Reminder. Your best friend wrote the list.”
“No, she didn’t.”
“And no one cares about the list anymore, because we’re all just mad at her.” Lara turned to walk away, and Nessa grabbed her arm.
“Why do you believe him and not her?” No answer. “Why?”
Lara paused. “Well…” She seemed to truly think about it. “Eve hasn’t said anything to defend herself.”
“What would she say?”
“She could say something.”
“What?”
Lara just stared at her. She had nothing.
“And if she did say something, you’d believe her then?” Nessa went on.
Lara raised one eyebrow in a very cool move that Nessa envied.
“I wish I could do that,” Nessa admitted.
“Okay.” Lara gave in. “Tell me more.”