The Pretender - Cora Brent Page 0,49
watch a Disney movie with Adela if she feels up to it.
Devil Valley High is a sad eyesore compared to Black Mountain Academy. It’s ancient, built in the nineteen fifties. Last year a portion of the roof collapsed but luckily it happened over spring break and no one was in the building. Sometimes there’s talk about bond measures that would pay for a new high school but it never happens. When I was little I assumed I’d graduate from here just like my parents did.
The final bell rang only a moment ago and students are already pouring out of the building. I recognize many of them because we used to go to school together and because the town of Devil Valley is small, smaller than Black Mountain. A few of them glance at me with curiosity and I feel rather conspicuous standing here in my BMA skirt.
“And then I told that bitch that she better step back or I’ll yank that nasty ass hair out of her fucking head!”
Instantly I recognize the voice of my long ago best friend. Bridget Spinelli is leading a squad of cheerleading followers out of the building while promising severe acts of violence. I stand still as she struts past and then breathe a sigh of relief when she fails to notice me.
No such luck when the McGill brothers appear. Alex pauses at the top of the steps and a slow, vicious grin spreads across his face. He elbows his brother, who looks at me, grins and rubs his hand over his crotch. Charming. I feel lucky when they appear to lose interest and wander off toward the ice covered athletic fields.
Seeing them reminds me of the day I ran into Dee’s. I still don’t know for sure what Ben said to them but it was enough to make them leave. Remembering that day brings a smile to my lips and I pull out my phone on the off chance that I didn’t hear an incoming text. There isn’t one.
“Cam?” Frankie’s face is full of worry when he finds me standing out here. “What’s wrong? Is it Mom?”
Crap. I should have known that would be his first thought if I showed up here out of the blue.
“No, not at all. She’s fine.”
He exhales, then raises an eyebrow. “Then what are you doing here?”
I bump his shoulder. He’s getting tall. He might be taller than me in another year. “Just wanted to walk home with my brother. Is that okay?”
“Sure.” He’s all smiles now. “Let’s go.”
“Merry Christmas, Frankie!” A girl waves from the top step. She’s young. She’s cute. She’s looking at my little brother with the hopeful eyes of a girl with a major crush.
He waves back but says nothing.
I wait until we’re out of range of the other kids before I scold him.
“You should have wished her a Merry Christmas back.”
“Who, Leesha?” He shrugs. “She’s all right.”
“She likes you.”
He’s embarrassed, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “I know. Not sure I want that whole girlfriend deal yet though.”
“It does come with complexities.”
Frankie laughs. “Like you’d know.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I never see you giving any guy a chance.”
“Well.” That little piece of honesty stuns me a bit. “Maybe that has changed.”
He makes a face. “If it has, don’t tell me about it.”
“Why not?”
“Because I don’t want to know that some creep’s got his hands on my sister.”
“Aw. That’s kind of sweet in a way. Frankie, will you help me bake cookies this afternoon?”
“Sure, if I can eat the batter.”
We leave the school grounds behind and despite the cold we talk and laugh and take our time on the walk. It’s a nice break from all my Ben angst and I feel lighter than I have all day.
I’m also not looking behind me and the sudden iron grip on my arm is so shocking that I don’t even scream.
“Look who doesn’t have a bodyguard today.” There’s breath on my cheek, sour and hot.
“What the hell?” shouts Frankie before he’s punched in the stomach by Damian McGill. But Frankie jumps right up and tackles him to the ground. They roll into the side yard of the corner house, which has sat vacant since the eighty-year-old owner, Mrs. Harcourt, died in her sleep last year. Since then it’s been broken into on countless occasions for parties or other mischief and no matter how many times they board up the windows and doors there’s always a way inside.
“Leave him alone!” I try to twist away from Alex McGill