Moment of Truth - Kasie West Page 0,4
turning back to shore but then I wouldn’t get to pummel him with no witnesses.
With a kick of my feet, I took off.
By the time I got there, Jackson had dragged himself onto the island and sat on one of the benches—his wet jeans making puddles below him. Hopping out of the lake, I lunged at him, punching him on the shoulder several times.
“It was the only way I could win.” He grabbed my fists, laughing.
“You are such a jerk. I thought you drowned.” I relaxed my arms and he let go of my hands.
“It’s nice to know you care.”
I hit him one more time for good measure, then plopped on the bench next to him.
He looked me up and down. “Do you wear your swimsuit everywhere you go, just in case someone calls for a race?”
“We had a meet tonight.” I looked at my bare feet, feeling a bit stupid now. Why had I done this? “What do we win for doing this dare anyway?”
“Win? What do you mean?”
I sighed. Now that the adrenaline was gone, the ache in my shoulders returned. I took in the distance back to shore.
“You think someone would come rescue us with a paddleboat if we yelled loud enough?” he asked.
“I think they lost interest.” Everyone back on shore was jumping around, dancing. My stomach let out a gurgle, reminding me that I hadn’t eaten after my races.
Jackson must’ve heard the sound because he said, “Should we start a fire? I can catch a fish.”
“We’ll swim back. Just give me a minute.”
“Most people find me amusing,” he seemed to say to himself.
I stood, shook out my legs, and rotated my arms a few times. “Have you ever heard of the boy who cried wolf?” I asked.
“You think there are wolves on this island?”
“You fooled me once. I won’t fall for it again. I hope you can swim back.” With that I dived into the water, leaving him alone on the small island with his dripping wet jeans.
“The boy in the story got three chances,” he called after me.
When I reached the grassy backyard again, Amelia stood at the shoreline, holding a bag of chips. “I wondered when you’d be back. Was it worth it?”
“No.” I wrung out my hair.
“So there was no making out with Jackson Holt?”
“What? Gross.”
“Really? You don’t find him cute? I think he’s cute.” She crunched into a chip.
“You think everyone is.”
She started to protest through her mouthful but then said, “True, but he really is.”
“He might be cute but it’s hard to tell through all the annoying.” I snatched a chip out of her hand and bit into it.
“Annoying? Huh. I think he’s funny.”
“Interesting. He thinks he’s funny too.”
She laughed. “So I was talking to Katie while you and Jackson were making out.”
“You and Jackson should hang out. You both think you’re funnier than you are.”
She hooked her arm in mine and led me away from the water, ignoring my comment. “And she said Heath Hall is not just from around here; he actually goes to our school.”
It took me a couple seconds to catch up with her train of thought.
“The masked man,” she prompted.
“Fake Heath Hall,” I said. “So who is he?”
She shrugged. “That’s part of the mystery.”
“Mystery?” I stopped at the now-empty space of ground my clothes used to occupy. “Where are my clothes?”
She led me to a chair, where they were folded nicely. I pulled my shirt on, then stepped into my sweats.
“Yeah, he’s all over the internet, but nobody knows who he actually is. Or at least nobody is outing him.”
“If nobody knows who he is, then how does Katie know he goes to our school?”
“Rumors, I guess.”
“I need food,” I said, nodding to her chips. “Where did you get those?”
Amelia pointed, and we headed toward tables covered in pizza boxes and snacks set up on the patio. “So are you curious?” she asked.
“That guy made me lose my first race in weeks. So yes, very curious.”
Three
I awoke to a persistent knocking and let out a moan. “Yeah?”
The door swung open. Mom poked her head in. “You’re still asleep?”
I wasn’t sure if she wanted me to answer that question or if she was making a statement, so I rubbed my eyes and sat up. My shoulders protested.
“Hadley. You have thirty minutes.”
My mind, slow from sleep, tried to play catch-up.
My struggle must’ve shown on my face because she added, “It’s the fifth. Of April.”
“Oh!” Eric’s day. Crap. I hopped out of bed, tripping over the sheet that