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Even after we hung up, I left my phone pressed against my ear for several moments, staring into the dark area of my bedroom. The sun had dipped low enough in the sky that its rays didn’t reach my window anymore, leaving my room shadowy. I had a clear view of Jozie’s bed from here, stripped of her normal blankets, replaced with the multi-colored quilt.
If my sister were here, she would’ve said something stupidly positive. Something you’d read out of a self-help book. She was good at that, spouting off flowery stuff that sounded good.
With a groan, I pressed my fingers against my eyes. Connor and I were only tutoring! Then again, who in their right mind would gotherefor tutoring? Connor had taken one too many tackles, apparently. How early do brain injuries occur in football players?
I sat perfectly still while my mind sprinted on the uneven terrain.
A wave of headlights swept into the bedroom, reflecting on my wall. Stepping back temporarily from the edge of panic, I stood up and walked over to my window. The car hadn’t pulled into our driveway like I’d thought—no, it’d turned into the Oliphant’s and shut off its headlights.
The passenger’s door popped open and Madison unfurled from the car. She had on her Brentwood Babe varsity jacket, blonde hair tied back by a blue ribbon, as if she’d come from cheer practice. That wasn’t the case, though—practice would’ve ended hours ago.
I knelt down so she wouldn’t see me, and though I squinted, I couldn’t see the driver from here. It was too dark, and the windows were too tinted. All that I knew was that the car wasn’t Jade’s—she drove a souped-up SUV with a pink stripe painted down the door, and this black car was free of any stripes.
Madison had almost made it to her porch before the driver’s side door swung open, revealing a boy I’d never seen before. He turned toward her, which was coincidentally away fromme, so I couldn’t get a good look.
I did, however, get a good look at his red and black varsity jacket, with the clear cursiveJefferson Highscripted on the back.
I blinked once, and then twice, but the words didn’t change.No way, I thought, watching as she turned around.There’s no way she’s hanging out with a guy from Jefferson.
If I thought Jade would kill me for hanging out with Connor, she would crucify Madison for fraternizing with the enemy. Madison was crossing enemy lines, and that was treason. Like, head-on-a-pike treason.
But as the boy reached up and traced his hand across her jaw, I realized Madison had not only crossed the line, but had blown a hole in it.
Inspiration struck like a match, blazing through me, jerking my body into motion. A puppeteer tugged my strings now, brought my hand up, cell phone in my grip. The frame was blurry, slightly out of focus, but it was enough. It showed the blue and gold colors mixing well with the red and black.
Brentwood mixing with Jefferson.
A seed of discomfort lodged behind my ribs as I snapped the photo of my ex-best friend. This was self-preservation. Madison had made a decision similar to this one years ago. Now it was my turn.
I opened up Ava’s text thread.
Me:This might be more interesting than the whole Connor ordeal.
When I got Ava’s text back, I knew I had won her over. For now, Connor and I had dodged a bullet.
Ava:!!!
* * *
“I’m telling you, it was Madison Oliphant,” I told my friend group for the millionth time at lunch the next day, sighing. “I live next door. It’s her.”
Ava bit down on her lower lip as she unpacked her food from her lunch bag. “She says it wasn’t her.”
“Who else would be standing on her front lawn?”
“Is it even her lawn?” Alex asked, glancing at me. The skepticism might as well have been tattooed on his face. “It’s hard to tell in the picture.”
“I literally took the photo from my window,” I said, impatience seeping into my voice. “None of you believe me?”
Ava raised her palms level with her shoulders, her potato chip pinched between two fingers. “Hey, we believe you.Madisonis the one saying it wasn’t her.”
Which made sense. If I were her, I’d deny being spotted with a Jefferson High athlete too. It also made me uncomfortable, knowing that I threw her under the bus to save my skin, and I was the reason she had to deny anything.
“I still think you should’ve posted the Connor article,” Rachel said, but thankfully, she kept her voice down. If there were any listening ears, they wouldn’t have been able to pick up his name. “That was insane.”
“If I get proof, I’ll post it.” Ava gave me a small, grateful smile. “You were right, Maisie. Any good journalist needs proof. Otherwise they’re a scummy tabloid writer.”
Even though I was sure I appeared calm, I hoped to God no proof would ever come to light.
