Chapter
Nine
Last week at school was a study in tragedy. Grief counselors on daily standby, open weeping in the halls, teachers breaking down midlecture. All tests and any fun activities were temporarily postponed. The football team didn’t play their home game Friday night as a show of respect toward Gretchen, which meant they forfeited the game. No big deal, since they suck anyway…
It’s like Cape Bonita Prep came to a complete halt, the entire school nearly falling apart after losing one of its own. The local news stations talked about Gretchen on a nightly basis, but with no new leads and no suspects mentioned, the story has gone quiet.
Typical. Cape Bonita would rather sweep Gretchen’s death under the proverbial rug. Pretend it never existed. Same with our school.
This week, it’s business as usual. The physics test just about killed me on Tuesday. I worked on an English paper long into the night on Wednesday and emailed it to my teacher at 11:59 p.m.—it was due by midnight. Now it’s Thursday afternoon, and I’ve called a Larks meeting after school in conference room three in the library.
Everyone’s there, even Courtney, who wasn’t put in rehab after all. Her parents kept her home for a few days after her mini-outburst, and when Court showed up at school first thing Monday morning, fresh-faced and seemingly eager to be back, she explained that she had a hard time coping with Gretchen’s death, but she was feeling much better now.
It was really tough for me to keep a straight face when she said that, because I know she’s lying. I think Courtney’s pissed Gretchen showed her up yet again—even when she dies. And I know it’s wrong to think like that, to believe Courtney would act that way, but I can’t help it. I’ve known her a long time. I know how she operates, and how she always wants to be the center of attention.
I am glad she’s back, though, and that she can help with the Larks. We need to keep things going, not let it fall apart because we lost a member.
Once I get the meeting started, we discuss the little stuff first, then I move on to serious business.
“I need two new volunteers for the children’s hospital this month,” I start, my gaze briefly landing on every girl sitting at the table. Since the Larks organization’s main requirement is that we give back to the community, we’ve chosen specific charities to work with—most of them dealing with disadvantaged and sick children. We volunteer at the hospital, we help out in the special-needs classrooms at the local elementary schools, and a few of us are even a part of the Big Brother/Big Sister program.
Sometimes I think I’d like to be a teacher, but my parents always try to convince me to do something bigger and better—direct quote. They’ve controlled my life since I was born, so I usually just nod in agreement and keep my thoughts to myself. But being a teacher is a noble profession, right?
“I’d like to do it,” Alyssa says with a shy smile. I like her. She has great potential. She speaks up when necessary and knows when to hold her tongue. She’s always volunteering and helping out, and no one ever has to ask her twice. Plus, she’s a cheerleader, which is practically a prerequisite for the future Larks president.
Why, I’m not exactly sure. That’s just always the way it is.
“Great. Thank you, Alyssa. You’re always so helpful.” I scan the table once more, curious when no one looks me in the eye. Dani just came off the volunteer round, so I’m not going to ask her to do it again. Courtney is currently too unstable, so I’ll wait until next month. Lex lifts her head, her gaze almost defiant when it meets mine, and I wonder what her deal is.
I decide to challenge her. “You up for volunteering this month, Alexis? We could really use your help,” I say, my voice sickeningly sweet.
Her bold red lips twist into a semi-smile. “Not particularly. I need to finish writing my senior essay. College applications and all that.”
“Um, I’m fairly certain we all have to finish writing our senior essays.” I glare at the remaining quiet juniors, and anger makes my blood hot. I have no time for this. “Time for you to step up, junior Larks. Someone needs to pipe up before I choose one of you to take the job. And I really hate doing that.” I pause. No response. “It’s a requirement, girls. You must volunteer. That’s the whole point of being a Lark. Remember?”
Maggie sighs and tilts her head to the side, her lank brown hair falling across her shoulder. I’m surprised she’s not volunteering, because she’s usually one of the first to speak up.
The put-out expression on her face is annoying. How did she get into the Larks again? Oh, that’s right. She’s a legacy member. Her sister was a Lark four years ago, when I was still in the eighth grade, so I never got a chance to work with her, though my sister did. I heard nothing but good things about Lysette Fawkes from Peyton.
Not so sure about her little sister, though.
“Fine, I’ll volunteer,” Maggie finally says with a slight frown. “Though don’t forget, I was the one who organized the sign making for Gretchen’s vigil last week.”
“Oh, that’s right.” I snap my fingers. “So…what are you saying? Would you like a medal?”
Maggie’s surprised expression is straight out of a cartoon. She’s all bug-eyed, gawping shock. “I just wanted to mention it—”
“When we feel it’s necessary to list our accomplishments, we do so. Otherwise, it just looks like you’re bragging. A bit of advice? It’s best if you keep your mouth shut and let us judge you by your actions.” I smile serenely, trying my damnedest to look presidential. I swear Courtney looks like she’s about to burst out laughing. “I do appreciate you taking the initiative and helping out with the signs, though. And thank you for volunteering at the hospital this month. The children will be ever so grateful.”
Maggie’s face is tomato red. “You’re welcome,” she mumbles.
She probably thinks I humiliated her on purpose, but I have to keep the juniors in line. I hate being so tough on them, but I’m the Larks president. I need to be extra tough.
“Anyone else have something they wish to discuss?” I ask pleasantly.
“I do,” Lex says, sitting up straight. “I think we need to seriously consider who to choose as Gretchen’s replacement.”
“Already?” I ask. “She’s barely been gone a week, Lex. I don’t know…”
“I think it’s a good idea,” Courtney adds. “The bylaws say we must maintain ten members at all times—five seniors and five juniors.”
I turn on her. “You read the bylaws?” No one reads the freaking bylaws. They’re boring. They date all the way back to the seventies, when people had to actually write them on a typewriter.
So primitive.
“Yeah, I did.” Court shrugs. “After Gretchen died, I figured we’d need to do something. So I checked up on the rules.”
“If we don’t find a replacement for Gretchen, we might have to disband,” Lex tells me.
How in the world does she know? Did Lex read the bylaws, too? What, are they ganging up on me? “Says who?”
“Says our rulebook,” Lex stresses. “I read the bylaws with Court. Come on, Penelope. Don’t be difficult. We need to nominate a potential new member.”
“Shouldn’t we declare special circumstances?” I can’t even begin to fathom who we might nominate. The choices among the senior girls are so slim.
“Maybe,” Dani says, finally piping up. “I mean, we’ve never dealt with a…murdered member before. I would definitely count this situation as special circumstances.”
“Then let’s look into it.”
When Lex starts to speak, I cut her off. “I’m serious. Finding another member is the last thing I want to do. There are so many other tasks we need to focus on.”
“Like what?” Court asks.
I glare at her. I shouldn’t have to explain myself to Courtney—or any of them. And I don’t appreciate how she’s calling me out in front of everyone. I thought she had my back.
“Let’s discuss potential new members at the next meeting,” Dani suggests, ever the peacemaker. “And if we can’t make a decision, then we should look at the next step.”
“What? Disband?” Lex says with a smirk.
“No!” Maggie practically shouts. She pounds her fist on the table so hard, it makes everyone jump in their seats. “We can’t disband! The Larks are too important to this school, to the entire community! We can’t quit just because Gretchen was murdered!”
I watch her, surprised by her outburst. She looks furious at the thought of the Larks breaking apart.
Alyssa reaches out and pats Maggie’s arm. “Calm down. Everything’s going to be fine,” she murmurs, but Maggie only glares at her before she slumps in her seat. Like that mini tantrum just took everything out of her.
“Thank you, Alyssa.” I smile at her and she smiles in return. I probably look like I’m playing favorites, but I can’t help it. She’s my pick for next year’s Larks president. “And that would never happen,” I reassure Maggie. More like I’m reassuring everyone. I make sure and look them all in the eye. “Just because one of our members is gone doesn’t mean we’re all going to quit. Gretchen wouldn’t have wanted us to do that.”
I don’t know if that’s true, but it sounds good.
“Speaking of murder. Have the police released any other details about what exactly happened to Gretchen?” Courtney asks.
The room goes silent at her question. Someone clears her throat. Dani fidgets in her chair.
I mean seriously—does Courtney want all the dirty details? How gross is that? The local paper ran an article right after the body was discovered and identified, but they didn’t mention how she was killed.
It’s like they’re keeping it a secret.
“I haven’t heard anything.” I glance around the table to find them all watching me with hallowed expressions. “Has anyone else been questioned by the detectives?”
Mostly shaking heads, except for—of course—Courtney.
“They came by my house on Sunday to talk to me again,” she says quietly, her gaze dropping to the table.
“Really?” Lex’s voice perks up. She’d probably secretly love to see Courtney go down for Gretchen’s murder. “All that smack talk about Gretchen finally bit you in the butt, huh?”
“More like the public scene she made at the vigil,” mumbles Jessica, one of the quieter junior members. The rest of the juniors giggle nervously until I send them a stern look that immediately shuts them up.
“None of that was the reason.” Courtney lifts her head and glares directly at Lex. “They found texts on Gretchen’s phone about me and…someone else. Ugly stuff, like she wanted to kick my ass or something stupid like that.”
“Really?” Dani breathes, her brown eyes wide with surprise.
“Yes, really,” Courtney mocks. “They wanted to know if Gretchen had threatened me in any way over the last few weeks.”
“Had she?” I ask. What does she mean, texts about her and someone else? Who’s the someone else? Why won’t she just say the name?
Courtney levels her gaze on me. “No.”
Huh. I don’t know if I believe her.
“Then they asked to look at my phone,” she continues.
“Did you let them?” Lex sounds like she wants to start laughing.
“No.” Courtney’s gaze sweeps around the table, alighting on each of us. “Be careful. Because they’ll probably ask to look at all of your phones.”
Dani gasps. Lex laughs. The juniors remain quiet. But I’m still watching Courtney.
What exactly does she have to hide?