I crumpled the note as I shut my locker. I found the nearest trash can and got rid of the note. Ethan didn’t need to know. It would only upset him, and that was the last thing I wanted to do. No, the last thing I wanted to do was kill someone else, and the necklace was making me strong enough to avoid doing that. I knew it was.
I hurried to Sculpture, eager to get there before the class ended, but as it turned out, the bell rang as I stepped into the room with my permission slip. Ethan came to meet me at the teacher’s desk.
“What are you doing here?”
“Transferring out of French. There’s an opening.”
“And you are?” asked the extremely artsy-looking woman teaching the class. Her hair was jet black with a blue streak down the back, and her dress was the deepest emerald green. It stopped at the knee, which was where her black lace-up leather boots came to. And her nails! They were black with silver stars painted on each one. This woman definitely wasn’t your typical high-school teacher.
“I’m Samantha Smith.” I still wasn’t used to the sound of my new name. “Mrs. Melrose said I could transfer into this class. I just need your signature on this form before I have my parents sign it.”
“Are you an art major?”
Major? This was high school. Who had a major? “Um, I’m very interested in the class, and I think I’d like to pursue a degree in art in college,” I lied.
“She’s my girlfriend,” Ethan said. “I’ve seen her artwork. It’s amazing.”
The lies were piling up, and I hoped no one was keeping track of the stories we were telling because they didn’t line up. We’d need to work on that before someone figured out the truth.
“I see. Well, if you are half as talented as Ethan, then I look forward to seeing your work this semester.” She reached for my form and signed her name.
I glanced at it, wanting to thank her by name to pretend like I already knew who she was. “Thank you, Ms. Matthews.”
“See you Monday.”
Ethan draped his arm around my shoulder as we walked to the cafeteria. “This is great. Now we’ll have two periods in a row together.”
“My thoughts exactly.”
We sat down at the same table, and I dug into my sandwich. Ethan had packed two sandwiches for himself, an Italian sub and a meatball sub. The guy was a bottomless pit, and he never gained an ounce. The thought made me picture his perfect abs again. I shoved my sandwich in my mouth to cover up the drool.
“So, did you hear?” Beth asked, taking a seat with her tray of unidentifiable food.
“Hear what?” Ethan said. “That Sam is going to be in our art class? It’s awesome, right?”
“Cool.” She smiled at me. “But that’s not what I was talking about.”
I tensed up, expecting Beth to say something about the guy from the stairwell. About the supposed break-in.
“Trevor is missing. He never went home after school yesterday.”
“Who’s Trevor?” Ethan asked with a mouthful of meatball sub.
“Trevor Davis. He’s the star pitcher of the baseball team and one of the best running backs our football team has.”
Ethan shrugged. “I don’t know him.”
I did. I’d been too chicken to look at his student ID, but as soon as Beth said Trevor’s name, I knew who he was. My stomach lurched, and I put my sandwich down.
“You okay?” Ethan asked. “You look a little green.” His eyes dropped to my sandwich. “Is the food making you feel sick? Jackson said the cold cuts were fresh.” He picked up my sandwich and sniffed it.
“The sandwich is fine, but I don’t feel so hot.” More like cold. Stone cold. Deathly cold. Cold-blooded killer cold. I clutched my necklace like it would give me support.
“You want me to walk you to the nurse?”
“No. I’ll be fine.” I sipped my water, and Beth took that as her cue to continue.
“Anyway, Trevor never went home, and Shannon is, like, freaking out.”
“Shannon?” I choked on my water. “Shannon who?”
“Tilby. According to her, she’s the Shannon of the school. I heard from Angela that there was a sophomore named Shannon, but Shannon made her use her middle name instead.”
“No way,” Ethan said. “That can’t be true.”
He hadn’t met Shannon Tilby. I didn’t doubt she’d bully a sophomore like that.
“They had a date,” Beth said. “Trevor was supposed to take her to this fancy restaurant. She told everyone about it. He never showed up. She called his cell, but he didn’t answer. So, she drove to his house to ream him out in person, and his parents said he never came home from school. Turns out he left his cell at home, too, which is why he never answered.”
“Did they call the cops?”
“Not yet. He’s taken off like this before, so his parents are waiting a bit before they declare him missing,” Beth said.
Ethan crumpled up the wrapper from his meatball sub. “Maybe he didn’t want to go out with that Shannon chick, so he took off for a little while.”
“Are you kidding me?” Beth’s eyes bugged out. “No one bails on Shannon. It’s social suicide.”
“Maybe that’s why he’s not in school today. He knows he screwed up.” Ethan dug into his Italian sub, not giving it much more thought. It was strange how he’d seemed to stop caring about other people. Not like him at all.
But I couldn’t dismiss the Trevor issue. Sooner or later, the police would figure out the old man they’d found dead in the doorway was Trevor Davis. And when word got around school, Shannon would be devastated. She’d be angry. And even though she might not know I was to blame for Trevor’s death, I had a feeling I’d be on the receiving end of her wrath anyway.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
THE rest of the school day was a blur. I went through the motions of attending class. Kids whispered thoughts about where Trevor could be. There was even a rumor that he ran off with Mrs. Wentworth, the school nurse, who happened to be absent both yesterday and today. I hadn’t met her yet, but I heard she was fifty. If I wasn’t dying inside knowing the truth, I would’ve found that one funny.
The end of the day couldn’t come soon enough, and when the dismissal bell rang, I bolted out of history and ran to my locker. I still hadn’t told Ethan about the note I found earlier, and I wasn’t planning on telling him. I put my books in my locker and slammed it shut. I turned around, and Ethan was standing inches from my face.
“Whoa!” I jumped. “You scared me.”
“Sorry.” He kissed me before wrapping his arm around my shoulders and walking me out of the building to his car. “Was today any better?”
“A little. Getting out of French and into your art class was a definite plus.”
“Yeah, and you seemed to be settling in with the guys at lunch. Beth really likes you. She told me in Spanish.”
“That’s nice.” I tried to keep the worry out of my voice, but Beth was a threat to me. She knew too much about what went on at this school. I’d have to be extra careful around her.
We drove to the diner, and first thing, Jackson asked Ethan to work in the kitchen again. Ethan was delighted to get away from busing tables, and he was becoming quite the chef. Okay, not really. I mean, flipping burgers and making club sandwiches wasn’t exactly a science, but it was good to see him happy. One of us needed to be.
I put my purse behind the counter and tied my apron around my waist.