Yet a Stranger (The First Quarto #2) - Gregory Ashe Page 0,102
back against the bed. “Oh God, I can’t even think clearly. What are we talking about? The pills. We’re talking about the pills. You won’t say anything?”
“That depends,” Theo said. “Tell us about Cal.”
“Just a fight,” she said. “It was just a fight.”
“Keep going.”
“Someone told him. Deja. Probably Deja. She didn’t like that I was getting stronger. Didn’t like that I had a faster serve. Asked me why I looked different, sounded different . . .” Her voice trailed off, and her head nodded. Blinking herself awake, she said, “I don’t know how she got into my locker. Must have taken my keys.”
“And then?”
“Big fight. Mom and Dad crying, they didn’t even know why. She left.” Nia made a choking noise. It looked like she was trying to cry, but her eyes remained glassy. “Got killed because she was in a hoodie and because a scared man had a gun and a badge.”
“And then?”
Muzzily, she said, “And then Mom and Dad knew why they were crying.”
“What happened with Cal?” Theo asked.
“Is he here? I don’t want to see him. What he did, messing with my head, I told him I was going to kill him.” Pushing back the bedsheets, she mumbled, “Want to see a mirror. Want to see what I look like. Freak, that’s what. Deja saw it. She ran out of the house.”
“Hold on,” Auggie said, running interference, trying to keep Nia in bed by filling up the space next to her. She ignored him, trying to extricate herself from the bedding, sliding one bare leg toward the edge of the mattress. Thick, dark hair covered her thigh. “Nia, just wait—”
“Sit your ass back in that bed,” Theo barked.
Auggie stared at him. Nia shrank back.
“Put one foot on the floor, and the pictures go straight to the head of athletics. They don’t need a warrant to open your locker, and they’ll spot the pills, and that’s the end for you. Do you understand?”
“Yeah,” Nia said. She lay back. “I understand.”
“Theo, maybe you should—”
“When was the last time you saw Cal?”
“I don’t know.”
“Bullshit. You killed him, and we know you killed him. If you tell us the truth, it’s going to go a lot easier for you.”
The door opened, and Foley stared in. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing,” Theo said. “Close the door, Patrick.”
Foley stayed where he was, though, and his gaze shifted to Auggie. Auggie looked away. Then Foley looked at Nia.
“S’all right,” Nia said. “Everybody’s upset.”
When the door closed, Nia said, “I killed Cal, huh? God, don’t I wish.” Her hand hovered over the mass of bandages on her chest and then flopped back onto the mattress. “Don’t even know why someone shot me. If I were five years younger, Cal and Wayne would have lost their minds about this; I don’t know if I’ll play again, definitely not competitively.”
“With physical therapy,” Auggie said, “and a lot of hard work, you’ll be able to play again.”
Nia didn’t grace that with a response, and Theo kept his opinion to himself.
The afternoon sunlight fanned across the linoleum, across the side of the bed, filling in the scratches on the chrome rail and exposing the metal’s texture. Nia played her fingers through the light for a moment, watching the shadow they cast. Then she picked up her phone.
“What are you doing?” Theo said.
“I’m looking up the last time I called Cal.”
Theo shot Auggie a look, and Auggie nodded. He inched closer to the bed to see the screen. After tapping and scrolling several times, Nia said, “August 22nd. See?”
The day Cal had disappeared.
“What did you talk about?”
“He wouldn’t talk long on the phone.” Closing her eyes, Nia settled back against the mattress. “He was so mad. I think Deja tattled. She was the star, so she got star treatment. The rest of us were dogs they ran into the ground.”
“You fought with Cal about the steroids? On the 22nd?”
“He practically bought them and put them in my hands. I don’t know why he got so worked up about them.”
“What about Deja. That was the same day she got shot, the 22nd. Where does Deja fit in?”
“She wrote that note,” Nia mumbled. “Stay away from my sister, or I’ll kill you. She would have done it too. Would have killed him herself. I needed to warn him. If I drove, I’d be faster.”