Please Don't Tell - Laura Tims Page 0,52

They decided it a long time ago, and they were just waiting for something they could call proof. Same for Savannah.”

“Is she doing okay?” The question cracks between my teeth.

“She says Principal Eastman told her she was modeling for a private art project, that she inspired him. She’ll be happy once she’s somewhere nobody knows what happened.”

I’m the reason everybody knows what happened.

“Anyway, sure, I’ll keep November out of the auditorium today. She was there for me when no one else was.” He turns like he’s about to leave, then adds, stiffly: “How’s your sister doing?”

“She’s fine.” My chest pops, but his face doesn’t change. He doesn’t know. He’s just being polite.

He nods, and then he’s gone, abandoning his paintings on the floor. We’re never going to be friends, he and I. But that’s okay. Maybe sometimes it’s all right to let someone quietly out of your life.

The supply closet door is locked.

I twist the knob for a fourth time. There’s no way I could swap out the DVDs after they roll the projector to the auditorium. But there’s no way I’m getting through this door. Pres must not have known it’d be locked. I can’t call him—he has a meeting with a teacher today that I told him not to skip. I slump against the door.

“Most people want to come out of the closet, not get into one.”

Levi’s walking toward me down the hall. He always finds me at these moments.

“Sorry,” he says. “That was a terrible joke. Wow.”

“It’s almost like you make bad jokes when you’re nervous or something,” I say to distract him from my shaking hands.

“I was looking for you in the cafeteria. It’s awful, looking for people in the cafeteria. It’s like there’s a timer winding down before everybody notices you have nobody to sit with.” He’s close now. Too close. He reaches past me, tries the door handle. “You need to get in here? I’m good at picking locks. My mom’s always forgetting her keys inside the house.”

“You’d pick a lock for me and not ask why?”

“If I ask, you might not tell me, and then you might not let me help. And I owe you for the other day.” He leans into the door with his sharp shoulder. “Plus sometimes I just want to get into a place where I’m not supposed to be.”

There’s nobody else in the hall.

“If you think you can do it,” I say.

“Easy.” Levi pulls a pin from his pocket, inserts it into the keyhole. He crouches over a series of clicks, swearing under his breath.

I’m sweating. “Not easy.”

“Still easy.” He twists the pin.

“If you can’t do it—”

“Let me impress you with my mad lock-picking skills, if not my jokes.” He fights with the lock for a few more minutes until the knob twists, the door springing open. He grins and holds the door wide, bowing low. “After you, sweet madam.”

“I’ve never been called sweet before,” I say, stupidly relieved.

Then, behind us: footsteps, laugher. His grin vanishes. I seize his shoulders and steer him into the closet, shutting the door after us just as a few girls walk by. The closet’s dark, too small for both of us. Our shoulders press together. His breath in my ear reminds me of Cassius.

“Now I am going to ask what you’re up to,” he whispers.

At that moment, I want to tell him everything. I have to physically clamp my mouth shut. The truth is so close to the surface that it scares me. What would he say if he knew what I was getting blackmailed for?

The girls argue in the hall. If they see me here, they might tell somebody.

“I found this video . . . online,” I start quietly. “It’s of Officer Roseby assaulting somebody. I want to have it play during the presentation, so everyone knows what kind of person they’re letting patrol our school.”

“That’s really . . .” He hesitates. It’s too dark to see his face. “Brave,” he finishes finally. “Intense. I’d never . . . Wow.”

For a second, I’m warm, like I’m doing something to be proud of. But it’s the blackmailer, not me. I’m not doing this for righteous reasons. I’m doing this so I don’t go to jail for a murder I may or may not have committed. I’m doing this so Grace’s secret stays a secret.

I worm around, find the DVD player in the light from the door slats, pop out the disk, and swap it. It barely takes fifteen seconds.

“When do I get