The Sisters of the List business is too stupid for words.
“In secret,” Kylie adds.
I whip around to look at her, taking in her heavily made-up amber eyes and bright-green slut-liner, as Molly calls the inside-the-eye pencil. It doesn’t look slutty on Kylie, though; it looks stunning. And it does nothing to hide her abject fear.
Amanda grabs my arm and makes me turn to her. She doesn’t cake on the makeup, but she doesn’t have to. Blond, blue-eyed, and blessed with every bone-structure gift, Amanda Wilson totally belongs on the Hottie List.
I’m ready to fire off a response when the media center doors open and Principal Beckmeyer steps out, a frown on his ruddy face. Behind him, the two uniformed cops come into sight, their arms posed as if they have someone between them, but Beckmeyer’s six-foot-two blimp-shaped body is blocking my view.
“What’s going on?” Amanda asks, repositioning herself to get a better view.
“Are they arresting someone?” a kid from another table asks.
Two more students stand up, cell phones already out to take pictures. The quiet of the atrium is replaced by the echo of rising voices.
When Beckmeyer steps aside, I hear the collective gasp, and only then see who is being escorted by the police.
My heart squeezes and nearly stops as I lock gazes with Levi Sterling.
He lifts his chin imperceptibly, a secret nod directed right at me, but then he’s hidden as they surround him and walk out. In my hand, my cell vibrates and I look down, remembering that I’d had three text messages and I’d only read two.
I ignore a new one from Molly and flip back to see what Levi sent to me while I was in Latin class.
Mack, I need your help.
CHAPTER XVII
The noise level rises in the atrium as some kids pour out of the media center and everyone naturally gathers around them to find out what happened. Of course, we join the fray to hear what we can.
“They totally surrounded him at a table.”
“Beckmeyer was about to explode.”
“They read him his rights.”
“They did not, dickhead. He wasn’t even cuffed.”
“Man, he didn’t flinch. Sterling is one tough dude.”
I try to block it all out, still processing what I know about Levi, when a new girl joins the conversation.
“He used to date Chloe,” she says, bringing the group to silence. And he also used to date Olivia, but I keep that to myself.
“Really?” Amanda says. “I never heard that rumor.”
“Well, they had a thing.”
“Define ‘thing,’ ” someone else challenges.
“Yeah, with Chloe a thing could be a hand job in the locker room,” one of the boys says, making them all snort. As soon as they see the vile looks they’re getting from the girls, they go silent.
“She’s dead,” Amanda says sternly, then turns to Kylie. “It’s time.”
They back away from the table and Amanda’s hand lands on my shoulder. “Let’s go, sister.”
I can feel everyone’s eyes on us, but no one says anything. I don’t want a scene, so I walk out with them, although I’d prefer to stay and hear more about what happened to Levi.
“This way,” Kylie says, indicating a stairwell that leads to the subfloor, which is what the basement of Vienna High has been called since the beginning of time.
“Down here?” I ask, hesitating.
No one goes into the subfloor, at least no one who isn’t a janitor or some other staff person. Years ago, it was part of the high school, but after a complete remodeling sometime in the 1990s, the subfloor was turned into storage and utility rooms, and the old labs were abandoned when the new science and technology wing was finished.
When we reach the bottom of the stairs, Kylie pushes a fire door into the hallway, which is so dark it takes a second for my eyes to adjust. With no natural light and cuts in every budget, which I assume includes the electricity bill, the corridor is airless and shadowed.
“Chem lab two,” Kylie says, pointing forward.
“Have you been down here before?”
They exchange a look. “The cheerleading initiation program includes a little, uh, scavenger hunt,” Kylie explains.
“Also known as hazing,” Amanda adds.
I can’t help but make a face. “Why? Why would anyone put themselves through that?”
“To prove your worth,” Kylie says.
“Doesn’t your ability to do a split and wear those inane ribbons in your hair prove your worth?”
Amanda shakes her head, giving me a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes. “Some people just don’t get it.”
“Cheerleading?”
“Friendship. Connection. Forever sisterhood.”
“Oh, please,” I say, disgusted with this waste of time