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“GOOD LUCK, DONOVAN. See ya, man.”
Packing up my locker, I tuck my wet gear in a towel and sigh in relief. I’ve just finished the last meet of my swimming career. And honestly, I’ve never felt better. Collegiate athletics kicked my ass. Literally. Between school and sports, it was too much.
The only problem is telling my dad that I won’t be competing at all next year. I’ll have to apply for financial aid, but that isn’t the worst of it. With the Olympics no longer attainable, Dad will be harping on me to take the LSAT exam and apply to law schools.
Slinging my duffle over my shoulder, I mutter, “Never going to happen.” I’ve already confirmed my five-year grad acceptance in criminology even though Joe Donovan thinks my classes are a bunch of shit. His words.
A few weekends ago, I wanted to break the news that I quit swimming to focus on school. My mom tried to engage me in conversation about my classes, and I took that as a good sign that it was time to share my plans.
But I didn’t get the chance. My father interrupted to ask why my times hadn’t improved and what my coaches were planning on doing about it. That’s as far as our conversation got.
A week ago, he found out I’ve been cut from the team. Worse, he heard that I dumped Christy. That pissed him off more than losing swimming. He threatened to stop paying for my apartment if I didn’t mend fences with the bitch. What the hell?
After Chris retrieved her laptop from my apartment, she called, just as I’d asked. It was the fight of the century. I demanded to know about the images saved on her computer and why Hannah had sent them to her in the first place. She denied everything and got angry because I’d invaded her privacy.
Okay, so I deserved that. But she wouldn’t let it go. She accused me of being in love with Penny. Again. I broke it off. I’m sick of listening to her excuses and accusations. She isn’t the person I thought she was.
My father was livid. Cue said threat. And it’s legitimate. I revel in my freedom, but Oakland University is close enough to home that I could commute if I had to. My mother fought for me to have the whole college experience with my own apartment, just like Jamie. Unfortunately, my father has the power to yank everything away from me at a moment’s notice. And he wields said power over me every chance he gets—especially if it involves the Meffords.
“Lukey!”
Oh, shit. High school flashback.
Whipping around, I furrow my brow as Christy runs up to me. This has to be a fucking joke, right? I glower at her. “What the hell are you doing here?”
Her signature pout masks her face as fake as the make-up she wears every day. “It’s a surprise! I thought you’d be glad to see me. That’s what your dad said.”
Nothing is further from the truth. And six weeks of freedom from her hasn’t changed my mind. I grip the handle of my duffle tighter and skirt around her. “You wasted a trip. We don’t have anything to say to one another.”
She dogs my footsteps. “Luke, stop! You won’t answer my calls. What did you expect me to do? The least you could do is let me explain everything face to face.”
I stare at her suspiciously. Not that it makes a difference, but I am curious what excuses she has this time. And if I’m being fair, she deserves to tell her side of the story.
Removing my keys from my pocket, I grumble, “Whatever. Meet me at my place.” A smile spreads across her cheeks, and I hold up a finger. “Don’t get any ideas, Mefford. We’re talking. That’s it.” I extend my hand, palm facing up. “But first, I want my key back.”
Holding her head high, she sniffs. “I don’t have it. I gave it to your mother.”
“Seriously?”
She stomps away.
Yeah, time to change the locks. As I climb into my car and drive to my apartment, my stomach sours. How much more of this shit can I take? The last six weeks without Christy have been the best of my life. I’ve reconnected with friends and kept busy. Of course, I’ve had other things occupying my time.
Like finding that asshole Ellis.
Brandon Ellis’ old email is no longer operational, but that hasn’t stopped me from combing the internet for him. Like Penny, the guy hasn’t put himself back out there on social media. Neither has Hannah Sparks. But I’m not giving up. I need to find out everything I can about the people responsible for doing those horrible things to Penny three years ago.
Knowing some computer guys in my criminology classes that have better access to powerful search engines has helped. This semester, I’m taking a class dedicated to social media detective work. It’s been enlightening. The newest social networking platform that every person in America seems to be on, Facebook, is starting to look promising.
Over the last three years Facebook has overtaken MySpace as the number one online social venue. I added my own account almost a year ago. The number of friends I’ve gained from both high school and college has tripled.
But Penny hasn’t made a profile. She’s the first person I looked up. Not that it surprises me. After the Homecoming incident, I’m not sure she’ll ever join an online community again. Her trauma has damaged her to the point of a general mistrust of everyone. Including me.
I hope to change that. I can never go back and save her from what happened. But I can dedicate my life to taking down bullies. If my father insists on law school, then I’ll use it to prosecute perps like Brandon Ellis that take advantage of young girls and commit heinous acts.
I roll my eyes. Shit, I’m starting to sound like a commercial for Law & Order. Still, I can’t let anything ruin my focus. Especially not Christy Mefford.
Parking my car in the side lot of my apartment complex, I pause as Christy pulls in next to me. Bruno Mars’ Grenade booms through her speakers.
Shit, that’s a warning if I ever heard one.
As she emerges from a fancy white BMW, I smirk. “That’s new.”
A smile lights up her face. “Daddy got her for me. I made the Dean’s List last semester. Isn’t she pretty?”
I roll my eyes. Good old Dr. Mefford. He’ll always be there to spoil his princess. Although, it is the first time Christy’s gotten excited about anything. If rewarding her with material things keeps her from partying, so be it.
Not my circus. Not my monkeys.
I unlock the door to my apartment, and we step inside. “Have a seat. You want a drink?”
“Sure. Anything diet will work.” She pats her flat torso. “I don’t plan on gaining the freshman fifteen.”
I glance at her sideways. Seriously? The girl is skin and bones. Her cheekbones jut out like sharp escarpments on a mountainside. It isn’t attractive at all. It doesn’t help that her looks are all wrong—blond curls and brilliant green eyes are the only features that haunt my dreams.
Glancing in the fridge, I grab a power drink. “This is all I have. Or water.”
She wrinkles her nose. “You used to keep Diet Coke in there for me.”
“Gave them to my neighbor.” I sink into the chair and open my drink. “So, talk.”
She plops onto the couch opposite me with a dramatic sigh. “What do we do about our situation?”
“Nothing. You wanted a chance to say your peace. I’m giving it to you. That’s all this is.”
She sits forward. “What do you want from me, Luke?”
“The truth. It’s that simple.”
She takes a deep breath. “Fine. I’ll admit that years ago when I first met you and Penny Ramsay, I might have been jealous.” She utters the word as if she’s too good to say it.
I scoff. “No shit?”
She stamps her foot. “How did you expect me to act? When Ramsay got to RHHS, you spent all your time focused on her. I was angry. I wanted it to be me.”
“You were my girlfriend. I saw you all the time. Penny was just a friend. My best friend’s little sister.” Chris doesn’t need to know that I’ve recently had naughty thoughts about said sister.
She huffs. “It didn’t seem that innocent, Luke. Ask anyone. I’m not the only person that noticed.” I give her a death glare, and she clears her throat. “Anyway, I asked Hannah to help me deal with her.”
I clutch my bottle tighter. “By what? Bullying her? Humiliating her? Mission accomplished.” Not to mention they’d convinced some asshole to assault Penny.
Christy winces. “Hannah hated Ramsay long before I moved to town. At the time, I didn’t know that.”
I squint at her. “Go on.”
“So, I asked her to help me get rid of her.” My nostrils flare as she quickly adds, “But not how you think! I wanted to lean on Ramsay a little, make her uncomfortable so she wouldn’t hang around us. You didn’t make that easy.” Her lip curls up into a snarl. “You had this hero complex and wanted to protect her. I had no idea Hannah had a more elaborate plan. Taking the diary and posting that stuff online? That was all Hannah.”
“And yet you have copies of the scanned documents on your computer.” Her eyes narrow, but before she can give me another pathetic excuse, I switch gears. “What about Ellis?”
Tears gather at her bottom eyelashes. “I swear to you, I never thought Brandon would go along with Hannah’s plan. We knew him from church, and he seemed nice enough. But Hannah was the one who really knew him. She promised to supply him if he helped us.” She shakes her head. “I didn’t know Hannah was into cocaine.”
I sigh. That much is true. Hannah was expelled from school at the end of her freshman year after she’d been caught snorting a line in the girls’ locker room. She never returned. Apparently, her daddy hadn’t been able to buy her way out of that. From what I’ve heard, she’s ended up in rehab more than a few times the last several years.
She sighs. “Come on, Luke. All that stuff happened years ago. Can’t we be done with this?”
I cross my arms over my chest. “If that’s the case, why keep those fucking pictures and the video? And Penny’s journal entries? Why did Hannah share them with you in the first place?”
Pressing her fingers into her eye sockets, Christy shrugs. “I honestly forgot I had them. I didn’t even think about it when you transferred everything over to my new computer. Then you went snooping.” She throws a fist to her hip dramatically. “Which I’m still pissed about by the way.”
Lacing my fingers together, I sit forward. “Nice try. Still doesn’t explain why you confronted Penny at the theater and threatened to share the pictures and her journal entries with the world if she didn’t leave me alone. Her words.”
The muscles at Christy’s jawline jump as her whole body stiffens. Her pupils dilate, and her face turns crimson. “I didn’t do any of that! Why are you so quick to believe everything she says, but you think I’m a liar?” A small squeal punctuates her point.
I sit back and scrutinize her carefully. It’s hard to trust what this girl says. I actually took a weekend seminar offered by the criminology faculty that brought in an FBI agent to teach us how to detect a lie. This girl is cool under pressure most of the time, but she has some tells. Dilation of her pupils, vehemently denying she did anything while not really answering a question, voice intonation... Chris is always on the defensive.
Penny told me the truth from day one, and the difference in performances is telling. She wasn’t manipulating the things she said. She wasn’t defensive. She was angry. With me.
She has every right to be.
Sighing heavily, I shake my head. “Look, I’m not sure how I feel about anything anymore. I know my dad and your parents want us to make this more official—” A hopeful smile curves at her lips, and I hold up a hand. “But that isn’t a good reason to stay together, Chris.”
Folding her hands in front of her she says, “We’ve been dating for almost four years. Isn’t that worth something?”
“Not if we have to keep having these conversations about me staying away from other women. It isn’t just Penny. You jumped down Kennedy Harper’s throat last year at Petri’s house, and she and I only had one date. Colton Ramsay is my best friend. More likely than not, I’ll run into Pen from time to time.”
Her lip curls up slightly. “Have you seen her lately?”
I bark a laugh. “Here we go. You see?”
“No! I just meant it like I wonder if you’ve seen her.”
“She hasn’t spoken to me in over a year. Her brother doesn’t talk about her. I have no idea what she’s up to. Are you satisfied?”
She gives me a one-shouldered shrug. “A little.” She takes my hand. “Luke, I love you. I always have. I guess that’s why I’m so protective of you.”
Is that what she calls it? I squeeze her fingers. “I’m going to have to work with women. I have study groups with classmates of all genders. You can’t tell me you don’t have group projects and shit that don’t have guys in them.”
Hanging her head, she sighs. “I see your point.”
“Yeah?” Maybe she is growing up. “That’s a good start.”
She glances up. A grin bows at her lips. “Is that a maybe we’ll get back together?”
As the heaviness descends upon me like a black cloud, I mutter, “We’ll take it one day at a time, okay? I’m not promising anything.”
Lacing her fingers with mine, she kisses my cheek. “I can live with that.” She stands. “I’d better head to Mom and Dad’s. My brother’s home from Afghanistan. I want to see him before he returns to base.”
I stand and see her out. Why can’t she be this sweet girl one hundred percent of the time? Stuffing my hands in my pockets, I say, “Tell Josh I said hi.”
Her hazel eyes sparkle as she bites her lip. “Call me later?”
“Sure.”
Giving me a quick hug, she blows me a kiss and exits the door.
With a heavy sigh, I wallow in the bad decision I’ve made. What in the hell am I doing? I don’t want her back. But right now, I don’t have a choice. If I make nice with her for a while, maybe I can smooth things over with my father.
Settling at my computer, I ignore my problems and log into my Facebook account to begin my daily search for Brandon fucking Ellis. I have to find this guy—if anything, to discover the truth and heal my own soul.
*****
This is the private journal of Penny Elaine Ramsay. Do not read!!
JUNE 13, 2011
Being an adult sucks.
It’s only been two months since my eighteenth birthday, and my mother kicked me out. I’ve spent the last three days at a crappy motel, trying to find a cheap place to rent. In Rochester Hills, it’s nearly impossible. Not that I have much to put toward a deposit on an apartment.
Last month, I bought an old junker from Mrs. Monroe. She and her husband are getting a divorce, and she seemed happy to give me a fair price. I’m grateful. But in hindsight, I should have waited.
What do I do now? I need to make money. With the Monroe family leaving and the Landry girl old enough to babysit her younger siblings, I need to find another job. The theater gave me some extra evening shifts. But between my bank teller position four days a week and the fifteen or so hours I get at the theater, it still isn’t enough.
I haven’t broken the news to my brother yet. He and his college buddy are applying for the FBI academy. Apparently, it’s a lengthy process, so he’ll be in Ann Arbor for a while. I’m thinking of moving there. But that takes money, too.
Why does adulting have to be so difficult?