Tragedy Girl - Christine Hurley Deriso Page 0,22

thinking ?

I stare at Melanie with my jaw dropped.

“Sorry, Anne,” she tells me, “but it’s too creepy not to talk about.”

She reaches into her purse and takes out the note, smoothing the paper on her lap. I instinctively reach over and try to grab it, but Melanie moves it beyond my reach.

Lauren presses her lips together. “Uh, in the first place,” she tells me in a steady voice, “I’ve already seen the note. Remember? And in the second, it’s Melanie’s note—not yours. Plus, Mel and I have been best friends since fourth grade, so … there’s that.”

I feel my cheeks grow warm. Lauren’s message is clear: You’re the newcomer to the group. Back off, bitch.

“I’m sorry,” I tell her. “I wasn’t trying to keep anything from you … and I know it’s not my note. I’m just really nervous about people being in my business … our business, I guess.”

Lauren holds her frosty gaze. “Mel’s business.”

“Right,” I murmur. “Mel’s business.”

“Oh, girls, let’s all kiss and make up,” Melanie says briskly. “Don’t we have enough enemies without you two going at it?”

Lauren is still staring at me. “I’m really sorry,” I repeat in barely a whisper.

Melanie snaps us to attention. “Okay, let’s focus,” she says impatiently. “The question is, why would Natalie write the note when it’s Blake she has a crush on?”

My eyes widen as I see Natalie approaching us as she makes her way to the lunch line. I hold my index finger to my lips. Melanie follows my line of vision, spots Natalie herself, then hastily refolds the note.

“So Blake will pick us up Saturday night around seven?” she says, aiming for nonchalant.

“Um … ”

She shoots me a get-with-the-program glance.

“Oh, right,” I say haltingly. “He’ll pick up Jamie and me, then we’ll swing by your house, and—”

“Perfect,” Melanie says, discreetly slipping the note back into her backpack just as Natalie walks past us. “Well, gotta go. If I get to my fourth-period class early, I’ll have time to study for my quiz.”

Lauren and I follow her lead, standing up and collecting our trays. After we put them on the conveyor belt, I lean closer to Lauren.

“Sorry again,” I say in a lowered voice. “I’m just a little freaked out by this.”

She gives me a level gaze. “I get that. But Mel and I … we go way back. We don’t keep secrets from each other.”

I nod, my eyes oozing remorse.

“Hey, no harm, no foul,” Lauren says, then offers a smile.

As I smile back, I see Blake and Jamie heading into the cafeteria. Melanie sidles playfully up to Jamie, taking his hand as she looks at him coyly, her chin tilted down. Blake approaches me and kisses me on the cheek. “God, you look gorgeous,” he whispers in my ear.

I smile, but then shiver as I notice a pair of eyes boring into mine from the lunch line.

Natalie is staring at me, a cold, hard stare. My lashes flutter for a second, but she’s still holding her gaze.

“What is it?” Blake asks.

I shake my head and say, “Nothing,” but he’s already looking around. When his eyes lock with Natalie’s, he sets his jaw and tenses his muscles.

“It’s nothing, Blake,” I say, but he’s giving her a steely glare.

Only then does Natalie turn away and finish filling her tray. But she sneaks one last glance at me as I walk out of the cafeteria.

I duck my head and rush off to class, shuddering as my mind subconsciously matches Natalie’s expression with the words on the note:

Rethink your love life. Your life may depend on it.

Twelve

“I’m waiting.”

I glance up at Blake and smile shyly. “Sure,” I say. “I’d love to.”

Only a day has passed since Natalie shot me her death glare in the cafeteria, and I’m still a little rattled. Blake’s just asked me to join his family this Sunday for dinner (“Your turn for twenty questions,” he gleefully informed me), and I feel terrible that my hesitation might have suggested a lack of enthusiasm.

“That sounds great,” I continue, feeling slightly perkier after a quick scan of the hallway indicates Natalie is nowhere in sight. But then, the day is young …

“It’s Natalie, isn’t it,” Blake says in a tight voice.

“No.”

“I saw the way she was looking at you yesterday,” he says, hitting his locker door with the side of his fist.

“It’s nothing, Blake. It’s fine … ”

Blake notices his brother walking by and takes him by the arm. “Hey, Garrett.”

Garrett slows his stride. “Yeah.”

“That psycho Natalie? She’s still messing