“You can’t help a kid who’s going to fail anyway. He’s a serial class-cutter.”
Was he? “Well, he asked me, and—”
“Kenzie, that kid is a zero.” Now she raises her voice. “He’s trouble. Nothing but a truant on his way to jail. Where he’s already got a cell with his name on it, I hear.”
“You hear,” I say. “But do we know? We have no idea what happened in his old school.”
“Other than that some chick cut his name into her boobs with a razor blade.”
“Thigh,” I correct her. “And oh my God, does that ever smell of urban folklore.”
“All those stories can’t be folklore,” she fires back. “He steals, he does drugs, he deals drugs, he rides a motorcycle. I heard he put a kid in the hospital in a fight.”
I’d heard that, too. “You know, when I hurt my hand, he seemed really concerned.”
Instantly, Molly is in my face. “He’s the one who leaned on the locker and gave you the injury,” she says, eyes wide. “He’s nasty, that boy. He’s trouble.”
“He’s hot.”
Her jaw falls so hard I’m surprised I don’t hear it hit the floor. “Yes, if you’re into the ex-con type.”
“Molly.”
“Kenzie! You can have your pick of Vienna High boys now that you’re on that list. You can do a heck of a lot better than a thug like that.”
A thug who wants tutoring? “He might be misunderstood.”
She grunts with disgust. “You’ll get over this madness the minute you see Josh. C’mon.” She scoops up my jacket. “Let’s get to school and join the vigil.”
I can’t get my head around her twisted logic. “No, I don’t want to go hang out in the parking lot and grieve over a girl who never said boo to me until last night.”
“What did she say last night?”
“She texted me and invited me to the party at Keystone Quarry.”
Molly gasps, grabbing my phone from where I left it. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me that! Let me see. That could have been the last text she ever sent!”
I take the phone and unlock the screen for her, shaking my head. “I doubt that.” I scroll through, looking for Olivia’s text.
“People will want to read that,” Molly says.
“What people?” I look up. “Like the cops?”
“No, like her friends. Her last text could be, you know, important.”
“Oh.” I read the phone again, flipping through my text list, my heart falling as my head gets a little light. Not again. “I can’t find the text,” I say softly. “I’ve been losing a lot of messages lately.”
“Never mind.” She tugs the phone from my hands and urges me up. “Let’s go. I want to go.”
“Why is it so important, Molly?”
She sighs and bends down to meet my gaze. “Kenzie, I’m just this side of a social outcast. I have never run with the in crowd and I—we—have a chance. They’re expecting you at this thing. Let’s go and, what do you Latin kids say? Carpe diem?”
I just smile. “Yeah, that.” Maybe I should seize the day—and find out exactly what happened to this girl and make sure it was merely a freak accident. “C’mon, Molly, you’re right. Let’s go.”
The junior lot at Vienna High is a special place on a normal day. The area isn’t designated only for eleventh graders who drive to school: it sits on a slight hill looking down over the buildings, with shady trees and wide spots perfect for those of us who haven’t mastered tight parking slots yet. The seniors have their own lot, closer to school, but the junior lot includes a few picnic tables where kids hang out in the morning or have lunch. The crooked steps that connect the lot to the school are now peppered with cellophane-wrapped bouquets, stuffed animals, and homemade signs, many of which include pictures of Olivia and one that says #1 IN OUR HEARTS.
Molly gestures to it as we leave her car to start mingling. “You think that’s a reference to the list?”
“I’d like to forget about the list,” I say. “Let’s just find out what happened to her.”
A group of girls are standing arm in arm in a huge circle, rocking back and forth and singing some sappy song. One of them catches my eye and gives a halfhearted wave. I think she’s about to call us over, when her gaze shifts to Molly and her hand drops.
I feel Molly stiffen next to me and I know she saw it, too. “I don’t want to talk to them,”