Clique Bait - Ann Valett Page 0,90

anymore.

But something about her lack of makeup and unkempt state stirred me. Maybe it was all part of the act. I could stand my ground. After all, there was nothing she could do now. The tables had turned.

I finally nodded, my gut twisting in warning.

“Let’s go somewhere private,” she said, grabbing my wrist and leading me away.

My heartbeat accelerated. Her appearance could be to her advantage. Maybe her vulnerability was just a ruse to lure me into some twisted fate she’d prepared. I knew she’d probably go to huge lengths to keep her secrets, after all. I started calculating how quickly I could call for help.

I wished I released the video while I had the chance. Now I was exposing myself to new attacks.

“I don’t want people to overhear,” Lola muttered, her black hair falling from her braid as she scoured the people around us. Was she making sure nobody was eavesdropping?

Probably making sure there will be no witnesses to your untimely death.

“Overhear what?” I managed to ask, my voice much too feeble. I cleared my throat, trying to maintain my demeanor.

She sighed, running a hand through the thin strands that fell to her face. “We just need to talk, okay?”

I raised an eyebrow. With a small pang of guilt, I realized I’d be skipping my first class. I could already hear my mom’s impending lecture.

My mind was so busy turning over my options that I didn’t realize Lola had led us up a flight of stairs and was making a beeline over the mezzanine for the fire escape.

“Uh, should you be opening that?” I asked as she tugged at the heavy door. I was sure it would set off some kind of alarm and our whole secret meet-up would be announced to the world.

“Relax,” she said, her tone tinged with bitterness as she glanced my way. “We used to come out here to skip all the time in sophomore year.”

Sure enough, there was a little platform of metal railing that we could stand on, sitting us above the main courtyard.

Lola lowered to the ground, dangling her feet off the edge of the platform and looping her arm around the banister. I looked over my shoulder one more time. The door was shut. Warily, I joined her.

“That girl is still finding ways to haunt me,” Lola said once I’d properly joined her, pushing her palms into her eyes before taking a steady breath and clearing her throat. Her eyes fixed on mine. “Monica, I mean.”

My mouth went dry. I couldn’t speak. Hearing Lola say her name was like falling face-first into ice, a freezing slap across my cheek. She must have pieced it together. Desmond must have given the Level One girls my hairpin, knowing they’d be the victims of the stolen footage, and Sophie must have told her it was mine. Connecting my motive to Monica would have been easy considering the most valuable clips on that hard drive were proof of what they did. What they were hiding. And if I had stolen the footage, then my plan would be clear. I wanted to take them down.

“She was your best friend. I don’t know how it didn’t click sooner,” she said, the statement hanging in the air, crawling over my skin. The words coming from Lola’s lips sounded wrong. Monica was sacred to me. I wanted to snatch her from Lola’s memory and keep her to myself.

“She was,” I said, my tone defensive. I shifted my weight in discomfort.

Her lips popped open and closed, like she was about to say something but then something stopped her. She looked down again, collecting herself. When she did speak, her tone was cloaked with emotion.

“You want revenge for what we did that night.” She took my silence for confirmation. She looked sadly over the quad and nodded. “It all makes sense now.”

“You’re not going to stop me,” I said. “The whole world needs to know the truth. It wasn’t just a freak drowning. It was your games. You guys killed her.”

Saying the words aloud cut deep. I tried to hold back tears of my own. I wouldn’t let her see them. She didn’t deserve my vulnerability.

“Yes. She died.” She paused to catch her breath. “She died. And I’m going to live with that guilt until I die. And maybe we deserve what you have planned for us. I’m sure it’s awful. We’re awful.”

Her gaze met mine again, and for a second Lola Davenport looked a little human. She didn’t look like