Poor Little Dead Girls (22 page)

She stood up and looked for Brett. Most of the girls were still scattered on the bleachers, catching their breath and sipping Gatorade. Something caught her eye near the entrance, and she looked just in time to see Brett’s red ponytail disappearing out the door.

She saw Thayer standing alone at the cooler and mumbled something to Jessica about getting a refill. She got in line behind Thayer as she filled a paper cup.

“Hey, thanks for doing that.” Thayer shrugged, but she didn’t turn around. “You’re family. If you ever need anything, I’m here.” Thayer gulped down the contents of her cup and started filling it again.

“Actually, I was hoping you could tell me something. I’m in now, so no more secrets, right?” Thayer glanced around them, but no one was close enough to hear. She turned to face Sadie.

“Sort of. What do you want to know.”

“A few weeks ago, after the meeting with the Fates, I woke up with a bruise, like I’d given blood or had an IV or something. What was that about?”

Thayer shrugged. “Honesty isn’t the only thing they test for that night. We don’t really know details — the senior members keep most of that stuff quiet — but I know they have to make sure everyone’s, you know, a good fit.”

“Meaning what?”

Thayer smiled. “Like I said, they don’t tell us everything right away. But they will. Just be patient — they’ll answer all of your questions eventually.” She looked Sadie in the eye. “Trust me, okay?”

Sadie sighed and nodded. She felt a little better, but she still wished she knew more. “Okay. Thanks.”

“No problem. Now ignore everything I’m about to say,” Thayer said. Louder, she said: “I don’t know if you’re hung over or what, but I don’t want to see you coming in last again. Ever. Understood?”

Sadie heard the room go silent, and she could feel the rest of the team staring. She clenched her teeth. “Understood.”

With her back turned to the rest of the girls, Thayer grinned. “Good. Now don’t make me tell you that again.”

Sadie was trudging back to Keating with Jessica when her phone jingled. She flipped it open, and felt a smile spread across her face.

“Feeling okay today? My head feels like it’s going to explode.”

She typed out a quick response.

“Rough wake up but feeling better now. Practice sucked.”

His response came a minute later.

“Ouch, ours isn’t until noon. Last night was worth the headache though, right?”

“Definitely.”

“Good. Me too. Still on for tonight?”

Jeremy picked her up at five o’clock. She hurried from the door to the limo, clutching her hood around her face to keep out the cold. Inside the car was warm and dry, and she sighed gratefully as she sat back against the smooth leather.

She looked at Jeremy and feigned shock. He was wearing a simple white T-shirt, his Cubs hat, and jeans. “So this is off-duty Jeremy? I can’t even believe they let you off campus like that.” She stuck her nose in the air. “You hardly look like DeGraffenreid material.”

He grinned and nodded toward a black wool coat that lay in a heap on the seat next to him. “The coat was my camouflage. Sure you don’t want to reconsider? You know, now that you’ve seen me without my rich-kid costume?”

“Nah, I like it.” She scooted a little closer to him on the seat. “So what’s the plan?”

He took her to Lou’s, a tiny, hole-in-the-wall brick building on a small side street in downtown Foxburg. The sign above the door was a wooden carving of a plump tomato that read, “Lou’s Pizza: Since 1937.” He told her it was the best pizza he had ever had, “outside Chicago, obviously.”

They sat together in a cozy wooden booth near the back and ordered a thin-crust pizza with sausage, mushrooms, and peppers. It was sizzling hot when it got to the table, and Sadie immediately reached for a piece.

“Wait!” He held up a hand. “It’s not ready yet.”

She watched as he picked a large slice and slid it onto a plate, leaving a trail of thick, melted cheese. Next, he picked a shriveled, light green pepper out of a small bowl and held it up like an offering.

“The secret ingredient,” he said.

He used a knife to carefully slice off the tip of the pepper. Then, squeezing it like a lemon, he drizzled the spicy juice all over a slice. He finished it off with a sprinkle of Parmesan cheese, then finally slid it toward her.

She looked at him expectantly, but he just stared back. “Are you really going to watch me eat it?”

He grinned. “Just the first bite.”

She picked up the steaming slice and bit off the tip. He leaned forward, crossing his arms on the table like a little kid waiting for seconds.

“Great, right?”

She chewed, purposely avoiding his gaze. The pizza was good — hot and cheesy, with just the right amount of sauce — and the hot pepper juice added a spicy kick at the finish.

He laid his hands flat on the table and leaned even farther. “Come on, Sadie — you’re killing me.”

She put the slice back down on her plate and took a deep breath. “Okay fine, you’re right. This pizza is ridiculously awesome.”

He exhaled loudly and settled back into his seat. “Thank god. If you didn’t like Lou’s, we might have had some issues.” Satisfied, he performed the ritual all over again and dug in.

They were debating over whether to have thirds when an enormous man in a big white apron walked over to their table and slapped Jeremy on the back. He had bushy gray hair with eyebrows to match, a ruddy red nose, and deep laugh lines carved in both cheeks.

“How’s the pizza tonight, eh?” He spoke with a heavy Italian accent.

Jeremy leaned back and patted his belly. “Great, as always. Thanks, Lou.”

The man smiled widely and put his hands on his hips. “Good. You going to introduce me to your girlfriend?”

Her cheeks burned, and she opened her mouth to correct him, but Jeremy was unfazed.

“This is Lou, he owns the place. Lou, this is Sadie, she goes to Keating.”

Lou raised his bushy eyebrows. “Keating, eh? Did you know that girl who disappeared last spring?”

She shook her head. “I’m new this year, I just transferred in.”

He nodded. “Tragic. The whole town was devastated. Sometimes I wonder what’s going on over there.”

“At Keating? What do you mean?”

“Well, you know, people around here talk. It’s a pretty small-town atmosphere.” He glanced at Jeremy and shrugged a half-hearted apology.

Jeremy started to speak, but Sadie cut him off. “Like what?”

“Oh, you know, it’s not the first time a student has ended up … in trouble. There was that other girl too, back in the ’80s. Can’t remember her name, but she was one of those heiresses, you know? Family was always in the news.”

Sadie frowned. The Keating curse. She wondered exactly what “getting into trouble” was a euphemism for.

“What happened to her?”

He shrugged. “They never found her. But don’t you worry about that. All the schools are having problems these days — kids getting into drugs and sex and vampires and stuff. I’m sure what happened to the Ralleigh girl was just a sad accident.”

He waved a meaty hand to dismiss the subject, but Sadie’s throat had instantly gone dry.

“What Ralleigh girl?”

“Oh — Anna Ralleigh. That was the girl who died last year.”

Sadie’s tongue felt thick and clumsy, and she was starting to feel dizzy. “Her last name was Ralleigh?”

“Listen, I should never have brought it up.” He put a hand on each of their shoulders and smiled. “Have a great time on your date. Come back and get some pizza soon, all right? Just don’t bring any of your snooty friends — those rich brats never tip.” He grinned, then turned and ambled back toward the kitchen.

Sadie sat back heavily in her seat. She told herself it was a coincidence — that Ralleigh could be a common name. But something about it made her stomach turn. “Have you ever heard any of that before?”

Jeremy was busy pulling another slice out of the pan. “Not really. I mean, I heard about Anna. Everyone was still talking about it when I got here. But I’ve never really heard about anyone else. It’s sad, but that shit happens, right? The other thing was probably just some tragic accident, too.”

Sadie thought about the moss-covered cross on the side of the road near Keating’s main gate. “Or another suicide.”

Jeremy took a bite and chewed. “Actually now that I think about it, they do talk about girls not being able to handle the pressure and losing it during finals. They joke about it, the Keating Curse or something dumb like that, but it’s just people talking. I didn’t think they meant, you know, really losing it.”

She frowned, and Jeremy looked surprised. “Hey, don’t worry about it. It’s probably nothing. I’ve only even heard that once or twice. Besides, Lou probably just means students who drop out or cause a huge scandal by going to UC Santa Barbara instead of Princeton.” He smiled. “Besides, no talking about Keating and Graff tonight, right?”

Her head was spinning now, and part of her wanted to sprint to the kitchen to ask Lou more questions. Instead, she forced herself to give him a convincing smile.

“You’re right. No Keating, no Graff, just jeans, pizza, and slumming it with the other common folk.”

He laughed, and she grabbed another slice. They ate the last two pieces, then walked the few short blocks down the street to the movie theater. Foxburg had an old-fashioned theater with velvet seats, a big, red curtain, and an organ pit that dated back to the days when the theater showed silent films. Now, it mostly showed indie movies and slightly older releases for five bucks a ticket. When they were about a block away, he nonchalantly took her hand. He didn’t let go until the credits rolled.

She got another e-mail from the Sullas a few weeks later. It was a Thursday, and she was in the lobby with Grace and Jessica, slumped in an armchair with her laptop propped open on her lap. She was 2,000 words into a 2,500-word essay on Nabokov, and she was debating trying to get away with using 500 words’ worth of quotes from the book to fill out the rest. She leaned her head back and sighed, rubbing her temples with both hands.

“You know, maybe a creepy pervert who’s obsessed with a teenager is just a creepy pervert? Why do we have to write papers about him?” she said aloud.

“Tell me about it,” Jessica muttered, her hands still moving along her keyboard.

Sadie was about to shut her laptop when an e-mail notification popped up on her screen. It was another e-mail from Z — whoever that was.

She looked up and glanced around the room. Instinctively she hunched over the screen, as if someone would see right through it and discover her secret, but nothing had changed. She spent the next hour staring at her essay and wondering what Saturday would bring.

At nine, the lights dimmed, and she closed her computer and made her way up to her room. As she put a hand on the doorknob, it opened from the inside and Trix came stumbling out. Judging from her outfit, she was just leaving.

“Oh, hey Sadie,” she said as she brushed by her in the doorway. Sadie smelled pungent smoke mingling with her perfume. “I’m just headed to brush my teeth.” She jerked a thumb toward the bathroom down the hall and smiled widely. “I’ll see you later.”