and then head for the exit. I’m in the middle of an unladylike bite when Rebecca Ito passes by, heading toward the salad bar. Speak of the devil.
“Webecca!” I chew quickly, clear my throat, try again. “Rebecca, hey.”
She’s just placing her tray on the metal track and reaching for a plate. “Hey.”
“Can I ask you something?”
She flips a shiny black curtain of hair over her shoulder. “I don’t know, can you?”
I ignore the dig. “It’s about my friends. Avery, Sierra, Margot, Emma.”
“I know who they are. The Ivies. What about them?”
“I overheard you at Emma’s memorial. You think Avery killed her?”
“Shit, Olivia, that’s pretty heavy for dinner.” Rebecca sets the plate on her tray, which she slides off to the side of the station. She leans in, dropping her voice. “Do you think Avery killed Emma? It’s a weird thing to ask me, otherwise.”
It’s like there’s baking soda mixed with Coca-Cola in my stomach, threatening to erupt. But I push it down, play it cool.
“Seth said I should talk to you. About them. He said something about you guys keeping score.”
Rebecca smirks. “Yeah, we’re not stupid. Obviously. Or else why would you guys be sabotaging our exams and grades. Taking out the competition. I’d be impressed with the depths to which the Ivies are willing to descend if I didn’t hate you all.”
“So what? We gave a few kids the wrong notes, turned in a plagiarist or three, and angled for the best leadership positions. It’s nothing the rest of you wouldn’t do. Haven’t done.”
“Oh, honey.” But nothing in Rebecca’s voice comes close to conveying sympathy. “Do you really think that’s all it was? Do you really want to know about your friends? I’ll tell you. But you might not like it.” She looks far too pleased by the notion.
Whatever Rebecca has to share can’t be unheard. Right now, all I have is a feeling that my friends are keeping something from me. If I let Rebecca spill, I’ll know.
But let’s be real, haven’t I always known? All the after-parties I heard about the next morning. Shopping trips they “felt bad’ inviting me to go on. Emma is dead. Nothing is more important than finding out who killed her.
I make a decision. “Tell me.”
“Not here. Follow me. And throw that away.” She points at the remains of the roll in my hand. I’m about to protest, but I swallow my words, along with the last quarter of my bread.
Rebecca taps her student ID to the sensor, and the doors to the allergy-free room slide open. We slip inside, and with the slow closing whoosh of the doors, we’re hermetically sealed off, safe from both gluten and prying ears.
“You guys are subtle, I’ll give you that,” Rebecca starts, hopping up onto the bread counter. Hopefully her butt doesn’t count as contamination. “Half convinced myself I was just really unlucky. But then I talked to Seth, Autumn, Diana, Jason….Go figure—we’re all in competition with you and your friends for class rank or have been up for very specific positions in your clubs and activities. Anyone who gets in your way ends up with very bad luck.”
“What was your bad luck, then?” My voice is small because I know. I got her those demerits for sneaking out to hook up with Milo. Maybe this is all a setup, a chance for her to dig her claws into me.
“Margot Kim slept with my boyfriend and convinced him to break up with me the morning of finals last year. She got me a shit-ton of demerits for sneaking out and fucked me over in Model UN. And then she didn’t even have the decency to start dating Milo after we broke up. That was the tip-off.”
“I’m sure that’s not true,” I say, because, well, I know the second part isn’t. Yet I don’t rush to tell her it was me.
“Ask Milo. He’ll tell you. After he broke up with me by text, I got the whole thing out of him. I’d tanked half my exams and dropped four spots in the class ranking by that point.”
“Margot likes Milo, though. It was probably a normal hookup, not sabotage.” My voice sounds meek even to me.
“Perhaps.” Rebecca shrugs, but her heart’s not in it. “There’s a pattern of sabotage, however. You should talk to Autumn about varsity rowing.”
My stomach plummets. “Why?”
Rebecca offers a minx grin. “We always assumed it was you who did it, to get yourself the spot, but you seem so flummoxed by