“I might’ve had some stuff on me, just in case. I knew you’ve had it out for them, just like you had it out for Brittany. Since Brittany’s dead and gone, well, I figured might as well use it on them when I had the chance—”
My free hand squeezed the blanket I laid on, and I spoke through gritted teeth, “What did you do?” Every word I said was a whisper, just in case my mom walked by in the hall or barged in.
“I roofied them and gave them laxatives.” He hurried to say, “I took them upstairs under the guise of sleeping with them—which I did not do, I swear, because this dick is all yours, babe—and when they passed out I tied them up and shoved them in a closet together. I figured they’d wake up in their own shit and we’d all have a good laugh.”
The more Dante talked, the wider my eyes got.
What in the hell was that guy thinking? Oh, wait. I already had the answer to that. He wasn’t thinking. He wasn’t thinking at all. He had tried to get back at them for me, which was something I could appreciate, but now those two girls were dead, and since they were so close to Brittany, I was going to look guilty yet again.
Dante said, “Please say something, babe, because I’m dying over here. I thought you’d be happy—”
“Maybe,” I admitted, “but now they’re dead.” I was very glad I didn’t see them at the party, and that I didn’t watch Dante pretend to be under their spell. I would’ve bitch-slapped those bitches so hard their necks would’ve snapped.
And then how guilty would I look?
I rolled onto my back, staring at the ceiling, wondering what the hell would be happening next.
“Don’t worry, Vaughn and I got your back,” he said. “So does Jacob…and apparently Archer—”
Groaning, I said, “I’m hanging up now.” I hit the end call button before he could say anything, mostly because I needed time to process what he’d just told me.
Dante had tried to play a prank on Chelsea and Deetra—a gross prank, but a prank nonetheless. If it had gone to plan, it would’ve been full circle. I’d been drugged at that first party, after all. It’s what they wanted to do to me, minus the laxatives. Those had been a new addition thanks to Dante, and I had to admit, if they wouldn’t have ended up dead, I would’ve been quite happy with his plan.
But they were dead, so now we all had to deal with that.
The next week at school was somber. I wasn’t called into the station again, but Ollie had told me that Detective Wilde might want to speak with me again. He’d spoken to Jacob, Archer, and a bunch of other kids who’d gone to the party. There were no arrests made, as far as I knew. The gossip mills would be churning if there had been.
No one was really talking, not even in homeroom. Archer kept to himself, but we did text a lot. We’d decided it would be best to try to downplay our relationship, whatever it was, for now, while things were so crazy.
Chelsea and Deetra’s funerals were set to be later this week, and I bet, just like with Ryan’s, most of the school would end up going. A place like Midpark didn’t get much crime in general, I bet, and when it did, the crimes were always swept under the rug with their money and their power. This, the murders…you couldn’t sweep something like that under any rug.
When I saw Bobbi in choir, she looked pale. Her brown hair was greasy for once, like she hadn’t washed it the night before. Gosh, and I’d thought greasy hair was a thing of the past. In Midpark, no girls came to school with unwashed hair; it was a cardinal sin.
She was quiet for a while. Ms. Haber was still in her office, so we had time to talk, if we wanted to. The rest of the class was pretty silent, the expressions they wore unreadable, and I wondered if they were worried they could be next. After all, Midpark students had begun to drop like flies.
“Bet you regret being friends with me now,” I muttered, causing Bobbi’s hazel eyes to snap up at me. She’d been picking at the sleeves of her oversized sweater, but that immediately stopped when I said what I said.