“You sound as stupid as your mom sometimes, you know that? Those people are probably going to have trauma for the rest of their lives. They already forgot about the memory card.”
“You think at least one member of that crew won’t see that footage and use it as publicity? And what about the fans? That footage will get out eventually, and someone is going to come here looking for the truth. It doesn’t matter what you have to do to get it back—itcannotget out.”
A cold chill slithered over me.
“WhatIhave to do?” I frowned as I chewed. “I thought we were working on this together? Freudian slip? And yes, Artemis, I know what a Freudian slip is.”
Artemis leaned back, some of her intensity fading. “I’m grounded. I’m not allowed out of the house except for school, and I have student council today, so by the time that gets done it’ll be late.”
“So you want me to go to the hotel where theDMWcrew is staying and ask them for our memory card. Less than twenty-four hours after they almost get killed in a house fire. That a lot of people think I helped start. They aren’t going to give me the time of day, much less that memory card.”
Artemis sat in silence for a moment. She pushed her fingers together and apart on the table, spreading them flat. “You could alsonottalk to them.”
She stared at the table when she spoke, only glancing up at the very end. My stomach had coiled in a rope, but I kept chewing. Then I swallowed and set my breadstick down on my tray. “Are you telling me,” I said slowly, “tostealyour memory card back?”
“They stole it from us!” she said. “And they’re not shooting tonight, so all their equipment should be in their van or their rooms. I’m sure they’ll go out for dinner or something. It’s not that hard to break into a motel room, right?”
“Why would I know how to break into a motel, Artemis?”
Ten, nine, eight, seven...
Her ears turned red. “I thought—”
six, five, four, three, two...
“Why would I beokaywith breaking into a motel, Artemis?”
She glared and puffed out her cheeks. “We did it at Grimshaw House—”
I shoved my tray sideways. It flew off the table and hit the wall, spraying yellow cheese and chocolate milk across the blue paint and sending breadsticks scattering onto the floor. Artemis jumped.
“Is it because my dad was in prison?” I said, standing. “Because I’mpoor? Perfect Artemis isgrounded,so she can’t do it, but Garbage Human Zora is already accused of trespassing, destruction of property, arson, andmurder, plus she’s got no money and nothing to live for, so it’s totally fine ifshedoes it. And thievery is hereditary! Totally, totally. Sorry for doubting you, cuz; I see where you’re coming from now.”
I grabbed my bag and stalked away from the table, anger knotting my jaw and turning my vision red. I kept my gaze locked on the cafeteria doors, walking fast, ignoring the hundreds of eyes following me. Angry, delinquent Zora doing what she does. Getting angry. Probably going to set a fire. They didn’t know me. None of them knew me, definitely not Artemis. They knew stories. They knew lies.
A few boys coming out of the lunch lines approached me, and the closest one said in a soft, mocking voice,“Because I’m poor.”
I grabbed the bowl off his tray with one hand, took his belt in the other, and dumped hot cheese down the inside of his low-rise sold-ripped skinny jeans.
“I don’t need to tell you how lucky you are it wasn’t hot enough to burn.” Dad glanced sideways at me as we drove away from the school.Hedrove. He’d had to walk to the high school from town center, where he was looking for a job, andthen he’d insisted on driving the Chevelle home. “I heard what Principal Sutherland said. You want to tell me what actually went down?”
“People being stupid,” I said.
“You don’t shove hot cheese down someone’s pants for being stupid,” he said. “That’s more of a Sadie move. They have to do something to upset you. So what happened?”
I breathed evenly through my nose. “I don’t know. Artemis.”
“‘I don’t know, Artemis.’” Dad nodded. “That’s something. I thought you two were getting along. It was kind of nice.”
“She’s a spoiled rich kid,” I said.
“Yes, but you knew that already.”
I threw my hands in the air. “She thinks I know how to steal things because—because we’reus.” I could yellpoorandthieveryto the whole cafeteria, but I couldn’t say it to Dad. He knew what I was saying without me actually having to say it. People thought I was a thief because Dad was a thief. They thought we stole because we didn’t have much. They thought we were dirty people. They thought we were lazy. The more money someone had, the worse they thought of us, and Artemis’s family had the most money in town. I don’t know why I ever expected more out of her.
I don’t know why, every time she saidwe, I didn’t hearyou.
“Well,” Dad said after a few moments of silence, “it does make sense that Artemis would have a blind spot to certainthings. Many things, probably. She’s a smart girl, but smart people don’t always see what’s obvious to others.”
