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Lilly excludes herself from the remaining conversation where we discuss that she will drive with me, but we will keep our distance. We are making a statement by going together, but we don't need to fuel the fire.
Back upstairs, while Lilly is taking a shower, I check my phone for the first time since this morning. I missed several texts from Wes and Den. Both have read the article, and with me not being in school, they want to know what's going on. I'm surprised they haven't shown up at the house.
A message from Jager says: It wasn't me. I SWEAR !!!!!!!!!!
I really did a number on that asshole. Good!
Several more texts from my former friends, similar to Jager's.
Pussies.
And one from UNKNOWN: Answer the fucking phone, or I will come to pick her up personally.
I probably should call him back before he jumps on his fancy jet and reveals himself.
We had spent almostan hour on the phone with Nate last night, who, needless to say, was pissed with a capital P—scratch that, make all the letters caps. When we didn't respond to his twenty-three missed calls and forty-four messages, he hacked into the security feed to check on his sister. After that, he sent the text to my personal cell and waited for us to reach out. Asking why he didn't check the cameras right away was on the tip of my tongue, but I swallowed the question not to push him further.
By the time we finally called him back, George was camped out one street over, waiting for his boss's orders. George agreed with my parents' plan of offense, versus Nate, who still insisted she should not be here. He's grown extremely protective of his little sister.
The first genuine reaction Lilly showed all day was when her brother admitted that he sent a couple of viruses to Kat. She activated one of them on her phone, and every single photo she had was copied to Nate’s cloud, followed by the device being wiped. Nate then went through the pictures and videos and extracted the ones that would serve as future blackmail material. According to him, there is a lot to choose from. Lilly barked out a laugh, and the sound made the hollow vacuum finally shrink to a manageable size.
Now,on the drive to school, Lilly is sitting next to me in the passenger seat of the Defender, flicking her thumb against her remaining four fingers. I fight the urge to grab her hand; the movement is starting to make me twitchy.
When we pull into the parking lot, I drive past my usual spot and pull in next to Denielle's Q3. She's already leaning against the driver's side next to Wes's 4Runner, but my best friend is nowhere in sight. That's odd.
At the sight of my car, students stop walking mid-step. I notice Lilly stiffen out of the corner of my eye, and my breathing speeds up. I have no fucking clue how this day is going to go.
I reach over and touch Lilly's leg lightly. Her nervous tick stops immediately, and her head jerks toward me before facing forward again. She scans the front of the school with wide eyes.
I don't give a fuck if anyone sees me touching her, but I retract my hand nonetheless. "Cal?"
She slowly turns back, but her eyes don't follow until she has to focus them on me.
I hold out my hand, palm up, and she glances down.
"What is this?"
"The spare key for the Defender. If you want to leave, leave." I need to know she can get away if she has to.
Lilly slowly reaches out and takes the key from me, tucking it into the front pocket of her faded blue jeans. I take in her outfit, and besides her skinny jeans, she is wearing my old hoodie—definitely a statement—black John Fluevog boots, and her black leather jacket. Her hair is up in a messy bun, and she neglected her usual minimal makeup. I don't think she’s ever gone to school like this. The boots were from last Halloween when she dressed up as Abigail Whistler, and she refused to buy any boot but the exact same. I just hope she never added the blade modification as she originally intended. That could end disastrously today.
"Ready?" I ask her after she makes no move to leave the car. Den has already planted herself in front of the Defender's hood, arms crossed and ready to bite anyone's face off who comes too close.
Without another word, Lilly opens the door and joins her best friend outside. In an attempt to calm my nerves, I expel one last breath and follow suit.
May we all survive this day without suspension—or a murder charge.
Denielle and I flank Lilly on either side, and together, we walk toward the main entrance. It's fair to say every single head is tracking us. Conversations halt, cameras point, and the hushed whispers cannot hide the exclamations of slut, she fucked her brother, it's all a lie, psych ward, and does Kat know assaulting us from all sides.
Lilly holds her head high, and her gaze is straight ahead. We don't touch, and neither do Denielle and her, who used to link arms all the time.
As we near Lilly's locker, my best friend comes into view. I narrow my eyes, and my heart rate doubles. Wes is scrubbing ferociously on the door. As we get closer, I can make out the words written neatly across Lilly's and the surrounding lockers in various types of paint and markers, all probably requiring a different method of removal.
"Lilly McGuire is an incestuous slut who fucks her brother and lies about losing her memory. We don't want you here!"
We're not goingto make it through this day. If Lilly doesn't lose it, I will. Or Nate will send George to torture half the student population if he finds out.
Either way, we’re fucked.
