Yesterday, I asked Dr. Fraine if the painting could be displayed in the Great Hall foyer under lock and key. It’s far too valuable to sit out in the open the way it has been, even with the chapel closed right now.
“Can’t you just accept that you were mistaken, Biz? It makes no sense for someone to steal it and then bring it back.”
He places a handful of grape-flavored candies in front of me.
Now who is being bribed?
He really wants to stop hearing about this from me.
Why, exactly?
“Hey JJ, do you remember freshman year when Gentry Hobbs died in a freak accident on the archery course? Someone started the rumor that he was killed by a secret organization of students on campus.” I pop a candy into my mouth, watching his reaction.
JJ, Eric, Aaron, Henry… I’m starting to connect the dots, and the suspicions are getting harder to ignore. How many of my friends and classmates are keeping secrets? Or worse… hiding something truly terrifying?
His grimace is gone quickly, but I catch it.
“Boy, you have one hell of an imagination. I remember hearing he was told to handle his bow a certain way, but he didn’t listen. It had nothing to do with a conspiracy.”
“Huh. Okay.” I lean in slightly. “Do you remember sophomore year when Jennifer Hollister swore she saw a group of studentssneaking into the Great Hall the night before one of the Regents found threats in his office? Then she disappeared from school the next week?”
“Not at all. She was in the Hamptons last summer.” He frowns at me. “What’s with all these questions, Biz?”
“Hmm… no reason.” I tap my pencil against his leg. “Are you bringing a date to the party?”
He just laughs at me, keeping his options open as usual.
I try to let go of the questions bothering me. It doesn’t mean I’ll stop asking them, but it’s too nice a day to start an argument with JJ.
Eric walking Scooby lifts my mood right away. I just can’t look at him calmly. He’s so beautiful… downright intoxicating.
JJ says goodbye, telling me he has pre-party errands. It looks more like an excuse to avoid Eric. He barely mumbles to him in passing.
I abandon my drawings, pulling Eric toward the rope swing past a horseshoe sand pit. We pass a group of teenagers starting a basketball game, their boombox blasting music.
As I sit on the swing, the sprinklers come on.
Water droplets spray my legs as Scooby yips in excitement, trying to chase the spout.
“I love this song,” Eric says when U2’sWith or Without Youstarts to play on the radio.
I can’t help laughing at Scooby chasing his tail. I bend forward to toe the ground, moving the swing. Eric pulls back on the ropes.
“I’ve got this… stop kicking your legs, Biz. Let me push you.”
He sings along, “‘...slight of hand and twist of fate, on a bed of nails she makes me wait… with or without youuu…’ “
I twist to my side to look at him. My love.
He gives me his cocked smile, highlighting the dimple in his cheek… my God, he’s beautiful. My heart clenches in my chest, a sudden feeling of unease spreading through me.
A sense our time is limited.
He lets go of the rope of the swing as he runs a hand through his dark hair, winking at me. “Biz, why are you looking at me like that?”
Keeping my misgivings about what he’s been doing to myself, I shake my head. “Just thinking about how lucky I am to have someone who loves me like you do.”
He pulls the rope to stop the swing, leaning down to kiss me. I almost choke on my grape candy as his tongue tangles with mine.
