Luke will be pissed, but it’s safe. I’m just a girl popping into the local coffee shop after work to get my fix.
I push through the door and walk to the counter. I order a latte and don’t pay her any attention while I do it. When my order is up, I grab the shitty coffee and head toward Emily’s table.
“Hi,” I say, trying to sound casual. “Is this seat taken?”
She looks up, surprised, her dark eyes widening slightly.
“That grumpy boyfriend you got isn’t going to be mad?” she says with a smile, referring back to the other day.
“Don’t take it personally. He’s always a grumpy asshole. It grows on you.” She lets out a small laugh but motions for me to take a seat, asking me if I go to Kingmakers.
“Yeah. I’m Madeline, by the way.” I cradle my coffee cup.
“I’m Emily,” she says. “I went there too. You didn’t give me the full Kingmakers prep vibe. Who is your family?” Emily takes a sip of her latte.
“Yeah, I don’t have a family name or money.”
“Oh, scholarship.” Her brows rise.
“Okay, it is kind of a scholarship,” I admit with a small laugh. “But a pity one. Don’t be thinking I’m one of the smarties.”
“A pity scholarship to Kingmakers.” She sounds skeptical.
“You remember the teacher Paislee Pearson?” She nods. “That’s my sister, and long story short, our dad died, I needed somewhere to go, and the dean was nice enough to say I’m more than welcome here.”
“Interesting.” She takes another sip of her coffee. I fall into small talk with her, but I feel like time is slipping from me. That soon she’ll leave or Luke is going to come bursting through the door Hulk Smash style. I bite the bullet.
“Did you know Coach Murphy? She’s missing. Been kind of crazy.” I say it casually. Emily’s face goes pale, but she quickly puts a smile back on. She looks around the coffee shop, suddenly nervous.
“I heard.” That’s all she says, and I sense now she’s ready to bolt. I’m proven right when she starts to pack up. “I should get going.”
I reach across the table and grab her forearm. “Please,” I say, lowering my voice. “I think something bad is happening. I think someone hurt her. And I think you might know why.”
Emily stares at me for a long moment, then she nods, just barely. “Okay,” she whispers. “But not here. Not now.” She rips off a piece of paper and scribbles her number down, handing it to me quickly as she stands. “Be careful, Madeline. You’re asking questions about things people don’t want answered.”
Before I can respond, my phone buzzes.
Luke:Where are you?
I type back quickly.
Me:Coffee shop. Needed a fix.
Luke:Their coffee is shit…
Luke:Stay there. I’m coming.
I look up at Emily, who is already packing her laptop away. “I have to go,” she says. “Text me.”
She leaves, and I’m alone at the table with my shitty coffee, wondering what I’ve just gotten myself into.
And wondering how angry Luke will be when he finds out I talked to her.
Chapter Thirty-Two
LUKE
The bus ride back is torture. Every mile feels like ten. Grant is two rows back, talking about some play from the third period. He’s been checking his phone every five minutes like a drug dealer. What’s up with him lately? I inwardly laugh, because who the hell am I to judge when I’ve been doing the exact same thing?
