Page 62 of The Fake Out

I narrowed my eyes. “Any relation to Carmen Bustos?”

Carmen owned a chain of laundromats around the county. She was also a member of the City Council.

“Aidan is her nephew. He’s come to stay with her to finish out the school year.”

“That seems strange, especially when it’s his senior year and all,” Chris said. My eyes darted up to his, startled. I’d almost forgotten I was practically hanging all over him.

I pointed a thumb in his direction. “What he said.”

Peter pulled absently at the collar of his shirt. “He needed a change of scenery.”

Chris dropped my hand and turned toward Peter, arms crossed, his mouth set in a firm line. It was kind of football-player-who-moonlighted-as-a-police-detective-and-could-smell-Peter’s-lies-from-miles-away pose. It was a good look.

I tried to mirror his energy. “Give it up, Peter. What aren’t you telling me?”

“I told you the truth,” Peter said. “He needs volunteer hours. It so happens he needs them to complete the community service hours the courts have mandated he do.”

I sputtered. “You’re giving me a juvenile offender as a library assistant?”

Peter straightened and somehow managed to look smug, damn him. “You’re welcome.”

TWENTY-FIVE

Are you a parking ticket? ’Cause you have fine written all over you.

—JULIA B.

Next morning, I woke to Iris sitting on my bed, staring down at me. Which was a little terrifying. For a split second, I thought I was dreaming.

“Hi?” I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes and hunted blindly for my glasses on the nightstand.

My sister nudged me. “Move over.”

I slid my glasses on and stared at her for a long moment. “Why?”

“Because I wanna lay down. Geez, why can’t you just do it?”

I scooted slowly. No sudden movements. I didn’t want to scare her away. “Okay?”

She slid in next to me and laid down, stacking her hands behind her head.

“Is everything okay?” I asked.

“I’m thinking of going back to blonde,” she announced. Holding up a piece of unnaturally black hair.

“Huh.” Maybe I was still sleeping. Or in an alternate dimension? Was I dead? Had she finally succeeded in turning me into a vampire?

“I mean, the black is getting kind of old and maybe I need a change, you know?”

“Yeah, right.” Must seem disinterested or she’ll get spooked, and this sweet sisterly moment will be over, never to happen again.

“I am going to college next year and all.”

“Yep.” Keep talking. Please don’t stop. Iris used to talk to me all the time. She’d been a regular chatterbox.

Another long moment of silence.

“How was your date with the football player?” she asked, turning on her side and propping her face on her hand.