chapter 9
After Leona dropped me off at home, I quickly hobbled inside and changed into the only spy gear I could fit over my cast: black sweatpants and a Wildcat’s T-shirt. On my dresser, I found a large pair of dark sunglasses and then—in a stroke of much needed good luck—the cherry lip gloss I’d been searching everywhere for. It still smelled fabulous.
I’d just gotten done (putting on clothes while wearing a cast was very time-consuming) when Izzie beeped in front of my house. She wanted to grab some Taco Bell before the stakeout, and I’d begrudgingly agreed. The smell of processed meat tended to cling to my hair, but I figured she could use the protein.
Grabbing my spy pack, I threw it on my shoulder and got on my crutches. Izzie smiled weakly in greeting when I got outside. Then I tossed my crutches in the backseat of her car and fell into the leather passenger seat. Ouch. My hip was still tender from the spill I’d taken during practice.
“You okay?” she asked. “We can reschedule—”
“No way. This is our first step back in the game. Keeping SOS alive will prove its necessity. Maybe in the end, people will even respect it.”
“That’s a nice thought,” she murmured, shifting into gear and backing out of the driveway. “It’d be good to start over.”
I turned to look at her as she stared out at the road. Leona and I had agreed before she dropped me off that we were going to have an intervention with Izzie soon, making her tell us exactly what was going on. But we knew it’d have to wait a few days. There was just too much going on to add another priority.
Whatever had happened, whatever Izzie had done, we’d support her. “Never leave a Smitten Kitten behind”—that was our motto.
After we’d gotten our tacos and scarfed them in the parking lot (I made her leave the windows down so the car wouldn’t reek), we headed toward Garrett’s house. He and Stacy were best friends and bandmates—part of a larger garage band. Actually, the group was called Garage Band. They played a lot of local parties, and they were pretty good. But now we suspected that there had been more than jamming going on behind those garage doors.
“Garrett and Stacy have been friends forever. Do you really think they’ve been cheating this whole time?” Izzie asked as she turned onto Evergreen Street. The plan was to park in the driveway of a home for sale just two houses away from Garrett’s place. Leona had texted me the address that she’d found in the local listings. Seemed it’d been vacant for months. Perfect.
“The signs are all there,” I said sadly. I grabbed my black spy pack from the floor and reached inside to get out the extra-zoom lens, snapping it onto the front of my camera. “I’ve seen them leaving campus together at lunch but assumed it was for practice. I mean, they’re always together. But maybe they were never practicing. Maybe they were hooking up. I don’t know, it would be pretty rotten if he were cheating with Stacy. Friendships are supposed to be a sacred bond.”
Despite the dismal subject, I smiled a little. Joel and I had started as friends, in fact, we still were. We definitely hadn’t been trying to date—we both had been in love with other people. But … I don’t know. He made me feel good. He teased me mercilessly, dragged me to carnivals, and made me eat day-old corn dogs. He was sweet peach tea.
It was completely different than what I’d had with Aiden. He and I were never friends. We just … were. From the start, we’d been inseparable, and we never questioned how or why. Maybe that wasn’t such a good thing.
Darkness seemed to creep over me, and I shook my head, trying to clear it. Aiden was out of my life. I mean, he didn’t even e-mail to see how I was doing!
“Sam had a lot of female friends,” Izzie said. I looked over to see her tightening her grip on the steering wheel, her knuckles going from soft pink to strained white.
“Hey,” I said hopefully. “Maybe this will be the one time it’s not true? Maybe Garrett is innocent.” Izzie glanced sideways at me, but neither of us believed that. We’d seen too much.
“It’s six forty-five,” Izzie said, pressing a button on her watch. “They usually have band practice in his garage at seven. Do you think he’s in there now with Stacy?”
“Wait.” I felt I was forgetting something. “What time is it again?”
“Six forty-five?”
Friday Night Lights! I’d forgotten about Joel! He was picking me up for dinner at six. Dang it! “Hold on a sec, Iz. I have to make a call.” I grabbed my phone out of my pack and dialed his number. My heart was racing, but it just rang. When his voice mail picked up, I almost couldn’t talk. But I knew I needed to.
“Um, hi. It’s me. I’m so sorry I missed our dinner tonight. Something came up with Izzie, and I lost track of time. I hope you didn’t wait too long. Can we reschedule?” I paused, not sure how to finish. It was an awkward moment of how to end the call to your almost boyfriend’s voice mail. “I’m really sorry. Okay, bye.” Well, that should work. I hung up and then turned to Izzie, biting on my lip. “Do you think he hates me now?”
“No,” she smiled. “I think he’s in love with you.”
Her comment made me freeze. Love. Love! I couldn’t hear that word being tossed around so casually. It stung my face like a bee, making me swell. Making me ache.
Refocus, Tessa. “Pass me the video camera,” I asked, quietly. “I’m going in for a closer look.”
“Really? But your crutches.”
“Please, Izzie.” I couldn’t even meet her eyes. Just thinking about what love meant and how I’d had it once … it was all too much to take. I was on a mission and, dagnabbit, I was going to catch this cheater.
Izzie took out the video camera and then slipped on her black stocking cap. “The boys aren’t in the locker room, so I’ll be able to help you and check your feed.” She took out the portable TV, setting it on the dash. “Be careful, Tess.”
I nodded, nervousness seeping in. Would I be able to spy with a broken ankle? I stopped myself. I was a natural-born spy. Nothing was impossible when it came to covert activity.
With a self-assured smile, I got out of the car and pulled the crutches from the floor of the backseat. I balanced on them and then hooked my hand through the loop of the video camera, turning it on and testing it.
“Got it,” Izzie said from inside the car. I put my long-range camera inside my bag in case the job needed more equipment.
“Wish me luck,” I whispered, starting toward the house.
“Break a leg!” I paused and looked back at her. She shrugged an apology. I smiled at the irony of it and crutched across the lawn, tight to the porches of the house. The dusk was quickly turning into night, and I wanted to hurry so that I wouldn’t need infrared.
I slipped around back, careful to duck down (or as much as I could on crutches) as I passed the garage windows. I wasn’t sure if Garrett and Stacy were in there yet, but I didn’t hear them playing any music so I assumed they weren’t. Toward the back of the house was a dusty, small paned window that peeked inside the garage. Perfect.
I took off my pack and balanced my crutches against the back siding as I steadied my video camera and began filming. I wanted to set the scene for the recording. I wiped away a small section of dirt from the window with my sleeve, but when I put my lens up to it, I gasped.
They were in there! Quickly, I spun out of the way, nailing my back to the wall, but in the process, I knocked over my crutches. I gritted my teeth as they hit the concrete with a loud thwack.
Salamander salad! I was in trouble. I heard rustling behind the window, like maybe someone was trying to open it. That was a bit odd. Because from what I saw in the split second I was looking, neither Garrett nor Stacy was exactly “dressed” to open a window. In fact, it might be a little drafty.
“Leave it,” I heard as a small murmur. The old glass obviously wasn’t double paned. I couldn’t hear much, but I could hear just enough.
“I thought I heard something,” Garrett said.
“Probably a squirrel or something. Let’s hurry, the band will be here soon.”
My lip curled. Seriously, Stacy? So gross. Hooking up in a garage had major ick factor. Plus, Garrett was a pretty popular guy around school, and although Stacy was his “best” friend—he was known to hang out with a few other girls. I’d seen him doing homework with Shawna Smith after school. I’d heard Leeandra Rochkhill mention how they went to a concert together so that she could interview him for the school paper. I’d even watched Marsha Harting buy him lunch to “pay him back” for fixing her car. Were they all covers? Now I wondered how many “practices” he had a week.
After a few beats, the noise moved to the other side of the room, and I felt my stomach turn with the nausea of it. This was the part. From the beginning of SOS, this was the part that I hated. Catching the cheaters. It was enough to make you doubt humanity.
I reset my camera and then carefully (on one foot) turned back to the window and pressed the lens to the glass. Oh, puke. They were … really going for it.
Letting the video record, I couldn’t bear to watch anymore so I looked out over his backyard, holding the camera steady. There was a small play set, one that was worn and rusty. I wondered if maybe it was from when he was a little kid. And then I wondered what his mother would think if she found him now.
In my pocket, my cell buzzed. Must be Izzie. Keeping my recording hand up, and my broken ankle off the ground, I slipped out the phone. Whoa. It was Joel.
I didn’t want him to go to voice mail, but I wouldn’t be able to get away in time to answer it. Judgment call.
“Hello?” I whispered, putting the phone to my ear.
“Tessa? Is that you?”
“Uh-huh.”
He paused. I glanced around and then checked in the garage. They were still occupied. Wait. Was he giving her the Heimlich? Oh. Never mind.
“Why are you whispering?” Joel asked, whispering himself.
“Um …” I turned away and scanned my usual list of excuses, and nothing came through. “I’m at a movie?”
Joel didn’t speak at first. Then, “Movie? So you ditched me tonight to go out to a movie with someone else.”
Oops. I’d forgotten about the ditching him part. See, this was why I’d always told the girls not to answer their phones when on a mission! “I’m with Izzie. She’s … having problems.” I rolled my eyes. I was being a very bad friend right now. Izzie’s problems were not a ready-made excuse for me to use. Why did I answer the phone?
There was a noise from the garage that told me they were close to finishing, so I pulled down my camera and backed up against the wall again. Balancing the phone between my ear and shoulder, I bent down and picked up my spy pack and crutches.
“Should I even bother asking you out again?” Joel asked, his voice sounding a little sad. It sounded like he’d given up.
I straightened up, a pout on my lips. “Yes. I want to go out with you, Joel.”
“See!” I heard from inside the garage. “Did you hear that? Someone’s out there!”
My eyes widened and quickly shut off the phone and shoved into my pocket. Guess my whispering wasn’t quiet enough.
Eee!!!!! I tried to crutch as fast as I could, but I knew there was no way I could get out of here in time. There was a series of little popping sounds as each rubber end of the crutch hit the patio pavement.
“Hey!”
I froze, nearly tipping on my crutches. I was so burned!
“Hey,” Garrett called back, then laughed. “You’re early.”
Early? I turned cautiously and looked over my shoulder. No one was there. I waited a second and soon other voices filed out. The rest of the band must have arrived.
I blew out a relieved breath and made my way around the house, careful to duck down again. If anything, Garrett and Stacy should be thankful I was spying. If I hadn’t made noise, they might have been caught in a compromising position by their bandmates. That would have been an awkward set.
I’d just gotten back to the front yard when my phone started buzzing again. I winced. Joel!
“Sorry,” I whispered, the minute I put my phone to my ear. It made crutching difficult, so I tried to balance the phone on my shoulder as I hurried to Izzie’s car.
“You … hung up on me.”
“I’m so sorry. I lost my signal.”
“Right. What movie are you at again?” He sounded suspicious.
“The romantic comedy with that Jennifer Anniston.”
“Uh-huh. Which theater?”
“Regal at Redmond Town Center.”
“Popcorn?”
“Course.” He was good.
“Tessa,” Joel exhaled. “Are you spying?”
I was just outside Izzie’s car, and I opened the back door quickly, tossing in my crutches before shutting it softly. “No!” Pickled pears! I hated lying. “I told you I’m helping Izzie through a tough time.” I closed my eyes. This was so not a great way to start a relationship, but what choice did I have?
Izzie leaned over the seat and pushed open the passenger door. “Hurry, Tess,” she whispered, looking toward Garrett’s garage. She was right. Joel was completely compromising my mission.
“Can we reschedule?” I asked. “The people in the theater are giving me really dirty looks.”
He waited, and I wondered if he’d drive over to the theater to see if I were really there. “Yeah,” he said, finally. “I’ll call you tomorrow.” And before I could respond, he hung up. Great. Just great.
I climbed into Izzie’s car and put my spy pack on the floor. “Well that was inconvenient,” I told her. “Joel called right in the middle of the assignment.”
“You answered?” She stared at me, her eyebrows pulled together. “I thought you said it was against the rules to answer your phone while on a mission.”
“Oh, it is. I just …” I just lived a double standard. I put my head back against the rest and put my palm across my forehead. “You’re right. Sorry, Iz. I guess I need to get my priorities straight.”
She turned to face me, looking tired. Drawn out. “I guess you do.”
Whoa. That was a bit unfair. I mean, it was one thing for me to criticize myself, but it was another for Izzie to do it. I blinked quickly and then pulled my seat belt across my chest, feeling self-conscious.
Izzie started the car, but as she backed out, the band from Garrett’s garage came walking out.
“Crab cakes,” Izzie said, stepping on the gas and squealing the tires as she rushed to get us out of sight. I looked over my shoulder as Garrett and his friends walked to their van, instruments in cases being pulled behind them.
But it was Stacy that I noticed. She was adjusting the buttons on her white blouse, casually standing with her best friend. Comfortable in their situation. Their lie.
But as Izzie and I turned the corner, she looked up. Her mouth opened in surprise as her eyes met mine, the color draining from her face.
She might have just realized that she was caught in the act.
SOS
CHEATER-INCIDENT REPORT
CASE: 068
CLIENT: Janet Springer
SUBJECT: Garrett Bash
FINDINGS: At approximately 6:45 p.m. on October 10, Mr. Bash was observed “practicing” with his bandmate Stacy in his garage. Unfortunately, neither was clothed. We are sad to inform you that Mr. Bash’s friendship with Ms. Sadera was really a clever ruse for an affair. Please be advised that she was the only one witnessed, but we do not discount his possible involvement with other “friends.”
In this notice, you’ll find a DVD of their indiscretion, along with the number of a reputable therapist. We are sorry that you were scammed by the “let’s just pretend to be best friends” routine. But we hope you can find peace in the truth.
SOS offers our deepest sympathies. We hope that we will not have to assist you again in the future, but please keep us in mind for referrals.
Keep smiling,
SOS : )
SOS
Text: 555-0101 * Exposing Cheaters for Over Three Years