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“You should call the cops,” Quinn said.
“And tell them what? I don’t even know Tyler’s last name.”
“You know Seth’s.” Quinn’s voice was careful.
“I’d rather not get involved, Quinn.”
“Bex—”
“Leave it.” Becca glared at her.
Quinn rocked back in her chair. “So you aren’t interested in Chris?”
“Please. He doesn’t really want to go out with me.”
“I think the sixty-dollar thing is kind of adorable.” Quinn chewed on the end of her pencil and glanced up.
Becca groaned. “You’re not helping.”
“I’m just saying—maybe people are over the Drew thing.”
“Tommy Dunleavy’s note today asked me if I give a happy ending.”
Quinn winced. “Okay, maybe some people are over the Drew thing.”
Becca replayed her comments to Chris, the way she’d lashed out at him over the lunch table. She frowned, but then scowled. “Still. A soccer game? That can’t be a coincidence.”
“Yeah, well.” Quinn flipped the textbook open, her eyebrows raised. “Guess you’ll never know now.”
“You suck.” Becca grinned and shoved her notebook at her.
Then Quinn shoved it back, a little more pointedly. She tapped her pen where a number was scrawled. “You going to call your dad or what? I can only be a bitch for so long.”
“You sure about that?”
Quinn made a face. “You know, that’s a local number.”
Becca stared. She hadn’t noticed. Did that mean he was in town?
Did it matter?
Becca tore the piece of paper from the notebook.
Then, just like last night, she crumpled it up, shoved it in the trash, and carried it out to the curb.
CHAPTER 9
By Friday, Chris still looked like crap, and Becca wanted to call him on it. But in third-period English Lit, he sat across the room and didn’t make eye contact once.
Fine.
She must have beaten Chris to World History, because New Kid was sitting in the same seat as the day before—Chris’s usual spot. He’d paired a rust-colored tee shirt with dark jeans and black Vans today. Average, nothing-special clothes that looked striking and exotic just because he was wearing them.
Monica Lawrence was sitting at the desk next to him, leaning into him, giggling at something he’d said. She called Tommy Dunleavy her boyfriend, but you wouldn’t know it from the way she was putting her assets front and center.
Not that New Kid seemed to mind.
Guess he doesn’t need the dog to pick up chicks after all.
