Please Don't Tell - Laura Tims Page 0,50

Preston, startled.

A woman gets out of the Toyota. They argue briefly. I can’t hear what they’re saying.

Then Roseby slaps her to the ground, pulls her back to his car by her hair. He shoves her in the back and the video ends. My mouth goes dry.

“Jesus Christ.” Pres leans away from the computer, as far back as he can. “How does he still have a job?”

I bend my pinkie the wrong direction until the pain clears my head. It’s funny, all the little ways you can hurt yourself without anybody noticing.

“Maybe they just gave him a citation. I don’t recognize the street. Maybe it was before he moved here.” Preston’s muttering to himself. “Or maybe nobody ever saw this. In which case, how’d the blackmailer get ahold of it?”

I move my numb tongue. “We don’t know how he got the photos of Principal Eastman, either.”

He flinches the way he always does when the photos come up. I overheard him in the hall today, asking if anyone knew how Savannah Somerset was doing. I think he does it for the same reason I bend my pinkie back and dig my thumbnail into my wrist.

“Let me see the note again,” he says.

I pass it to him. I don’t look at it. I read it last night over and over again. At this point I don’t even understand it—it’s all gibberish.

Joy Morris—

We’ve shown everyone the truth about one man at your school already. It’s time to do it again.

This week, Officer Roseby will be giving a lecture in the auditorium at your school. Enclosed please find a DVD. Your job is to replace the DVD that he will be using in his presentation with this one.

If you don’t do this, or if you tell anyone, I will go to the police and tell them that you killed Adam Gordon.

“It’s definitely someone who goes to our school.” Preston says. “Otherwise why would they know or care about the people who work there?”

“Maybe it’s a staff member.” I say it so he thinks I’m trying.

“That doesn’t fit with everything else. It’s got to be somebody who went to the party, somebody who doesn’t like you and knew you hated Adam—remember how we figured all this out?”

I raise my shoulders and lower them.

“Joy?”

“I just keep thinking . . . What’s the point? It’s never going to be over.” I wrap the tail of my backpack strap around my forefinger until it turns purple. “I keep thinking—everybody has secrets. And the blackmailer apparently knows all of them, and he’s not going to stop until I make sure everybody else knows them, too.”

“Maybe this is the last time,” he says unconvincingly.

“How did this happen to me, Pres?”

“You’re going through a lot of stress. But I’m here for you,” he says like a therapist. He pops the DVD out. The video player window closes, and in the second before he shuts the screen, I notice the title of the article he had up. “How to Help a Friend Going Through a Difficult Time.”

Oh, Preston.

I am going to pull myself together.

“This one won’t be too hard,” he says. “Remember when my mom gave that mental health presentation in the auditorium? She showed a video, too. They have the tech person set up the DVD player and the projector, then they store it in the downstairs supply closet near the auditorium. The presentations are always right after lunch, so they’ll set up the stuff beforehand. We can swap the DVDs during lunch.”

“I don’t know . . .” Pulling. Myself. Together.

“I understand why you didn’t want to put the photos up,” he says. “But don’t you think people deserve to know about this? He shouldn’t be hanging around a school.”

“Yeah, but . . .” I ball the note in my fist. “It’s November’s dad.”

“Doesn’t she hate him?”

“I don’t want her to have to watch this.”

He looks at me for a long minute. “You should tell her, Joy.”

“I can’t. I don’t want her to think—to know—” I bite my lip. “I can’t.”

“You told me about it.”

“Because you always like me, no matter what I do. I need Nov to think I’m . . .”

“If you don’t do it, you’re in danger,” he says. “They could find you, hurt you. Or they could frame you. November would agree with me. Until we figure out who it is, we need to go along with this. If you won’t tell her, we’ll just find a way to keep her out of the auditorium.”

“You’re really good at