He's not hard to spot, sitting on the edge of the bleachers and working on some papers as a couple of the PE teachers open the main doors and start herding students into the locker room.
It's a bit medieval, this whole fitness test nonsense. Then again, just think about where we are right now: Adamson All-Boys Academy. Of course there's going to be some, uh, outdated practices going on.
“Mr. Murphy?” I start, pausing next to him. He glances up and puts this ridiculously handsome smile on his face.
“Mr. Carson. How are you?”
“I'm fine,” I say, sitting down next to him and wondering how best to go about this. There's a reason I offered to be the one to do this. Ranger's too aggressive, Spencer's too much of a wildcard, and the twins ... well, they can be a bit much. Church might've been okay, but he really only has two switches. He's extremely protective of Ranger, so if Mr. Murphy were to say the wrong thing ... “Actually, I was wondering if I could talk to you about something?”
“Absolutely,” he says, putting his paperwork aside, and turning to give me his full attention. “Is this something private? Would you like to go to my office to discuss it?”
I consider that for a moment, but then ... what if Mr. Murphy was the guy with the knife? I mean, he seems nice and all, but I try to remember what Church said. “Psychopaths don't feel human emotion per se, but are extremely skilled in imitating it.” It's probably safer if I don't go back to his office.
“No, this is fine,” I start, glancing over to find the Student Council watching me as they make their way into the locker room. I only look at them for a second before I turn back to Mr. Murphy.
“Whatever it is, I'm an open book,” he tells me, settling in to wait. I meet his blue eyes for a moment, and then exhale, pulling my phone from my bag and selecting the picture of him with his arm around Jenica Woodruff.
When I show it to him ... it's like he's seen a ghost. The color drains from his face, and he snaps his attention from my phone screen to my face.
“What is this?” he asks, like he hasn't the slightest clue.
“Ranger Woodruff's sister, Jenica, and you. You guys made a cute couple,” I add, throwing that in there to see if he catches it. Based on the way he grimaces, I think he does.
“I'm sorry, but I can't discuss anything regarding the Jenica Woodruff case, not without losing my job. If you'll excuse me.” Mr. Murphy stands up, and I follow after, trailing behind him as he heads in the direction of the locker room.
“But you were dating, right?” I ask, but he says nothing, continuing forward at a brisk pace. I almost have to jog to keep up. “That's all we want to know. Nobody will talk about her. Doesn't that seem strange for a suicide victim? This isn't exactly a murder investigation.”
“I'm sorry, Mr. Carson, I have to go.” Mr. Murphy steps into the office in the corner, basically closing the door in my face. He then immediately closes the blinds and shuts himself off from me.
Wow.
Just ... wow.
Cursing under my breath, I turn and head for the main doors, striding across the gym at a brisk pace.
“Alright, let's go,” one of the gym teachers says, grabbing onto my arm and yanking me toward the locker room. “We don't have all day. Trust me, none of us is looking forward to this, so let's get it over with promptly, shall we?”
“I'm excused from the test,” I blurt in a panic as he shoulders his way through the double doors. “Chuck Carson, headmaster's son.”
“Nobody's excused from the physical fitness test,” the man—I don't even know his name because I don't take PE—says as he releases me into a sea of … dicks.
So. Many. Dicks.
Dicks in all shapes, sizes, and colors.
“Oh my god,” I choke as the teacher excuses himself, leaving me trapped in a nightmare of penis proportions. I mean epic proportions. Epically terrifying.
I'm interested in dudes as much as the next straight girl, but ... um. There are definitely too many foreign cocks in here to be anything but freaky.
My eyes land on a particularly large member just before they slide up to a familiar face.
“Hey Chuck,” Spencer says, pushing his pants down, and then switching into shorts. He yawns and stretches as