what I wanted to hear, but sometimes the truth hurt—that much I knew by heart now. I didn’t want Jaz to hate me, but I hadn’t given her any reason not to.
I was so stupid.
It was a moment before I asked, “What do we do now?” With us, with the state of things, with our lives. At this point, I couldn’t see getting out of senior year alive, as terrible as it was. Who knew who might end up dead next?
“What do you want to do?”
I looked at her hard. What I wanted to do was get up, go to her side, kneel before her and make her see that it was never my intention to use her. What I wanted was Jaz, no more lying, no more backstabbing or revenge schemes. No more misunderstandings.
She might shoot this down, but I had to try, “I want to start over.”
To my utter shock, she didn’t deny me instantly, like I thought she would. “How can we start over when the entire town thinks I murdered your old girlfriend?”
That was a good question. A very good question. A question that I didn’t have an answer to, not yet.
“I don’t know,” I spoke, honest when I added, “but I’d like to try.” After everything we’d been through to get here, trying was all we could do.
Chapter Eight – Jaz
Mom hadn’t been happy to be corralled upstairs while Ollie and Archer talked, and then while I talked with him. Afterward, Ollie pulled me into his office and told me he didn’t know whether Archer Vega could’ve done the crime, but if it wasn’t Archer, we had no leads. None at all.
I’d told him that Archer wanted to start over, and Ollie had said to be careful. If I started over with Archer, I could keep an eye out, which might help us find whoever did do the murder. He was doing his best to keep the police off me, but after the string of murders, they were eager to close one of their bloody cases.
I’d handle it. I had no choice not to.
The next day in choir, I found Bobbi in her seat. For the first time ever, she’d made it to class before me, and when I neared her, I noticed she had a few bruises beneath her coverup, bruises her makeup and sweater couldn’t hide.
I sat down beside her, immediately asking, “What happened?”
Bobbi threw me a frown. “Chelsea and Deetra cornered me by my locker, dragged me into the bathroom.”
Chelsea and Deetra, AKA Brittany’s best friends, the ones who would always huddle around her and follow the blonde bitch’s lead. I’d nearly forgotten about them, having been so wrapped up in my own shit.
“They think I helped you, or something,” Bobbi muttered, folding her arms across her chest. “I don’t know. Or maybe they just think that since I’m friends with you, I’m guilty, too.”
“I’m sorry,” I whispered, feeling like I said those words a lot. I was sorry, for what little it was worth. Her father might be the detective on the case, but I held nothing against Bobbi. Her father was only trying to do his job; you can’t fault a guy for that.
Bobbi gave me a tiny smile, though it looked like her bottom lip was split a bit. “It’s not your fault.”
She might say that, but it kind of was. Even though I didn’t kill Brittany, everyone thought I did. Things were seriously only set to get worse. Silly me thought I’d be able to lord my crown over Brittany for a while, but then things had to go and get deadly. Just went to show you that you never knew what Midpark had in store.
“I can ask Ms. Haber to change my seat,” I suggested, wondering if me cutting ties with Bobbi would keep her safe. If those two girls were willing to beat her up, who knew what else they’d do, or the other students at Midpark. If I had to stop talking to Bobbi to keep her safe, I would.
It’d suck, because she was my only friend—the only one without a dick, I mean—but I’d do it. Having a friend wasn’t worth her life.
“No,” Bobbi said, shaking her head and wincing at the movement. “Then I’ll never get to see you.” She shrugged it off. “I’ll be fine, Jaz. I’m a big girl. I’ve been dealing with everyone here my whole life, so I’m used to it.”