Mac put her hands on her hips. “You’re saying this as if we actually did something. We only gave him one pill, Ava, something he did himself all the time. Just because we talked about killing him doesn’t make us guilty. The police found evidence of foul play—there’s no way one pill could be foul play.”
“But we did do something! We still gave him a pill. And we wrote all over him,” Caitlin exclaimed hysterically, raising her hands.
Parker twisted her mouth. But she couldn’t quite look at the issue head-on. She could barely relive that night without getting a headache.
“Maybe we should tell someone about this,” Mac suggested. “Like, you know, come clean about how we pranked him.”
Ava’s eyes boggled. “We still gave him Oxy, and that’s still pretty bad. What if they don’t believe us? What if they think we did it anyway?”
“I agree,” Julie admitted. “We could get in a lot of trouble. I mean”—she swallowed—“we all have a lot to lose.”
They were all silent again, thinking of what was on the line—their reputations, graduation, college, their parents’ approval.
“I don’t understand what actually happened,” Caitlin finally whispered, glancing nervously back and forth. “I mean, everyone’s saying it was Oxy. If so, someone else must have given him more drugs after we left, don’t you think?”
“A lot of people hated him,” Mac whispered, glancing uncertainly at the packed parking lot.
Then Parker had a horrible thought. “Do you think someone’s trying to pin it on us?”
“I wondered the same thing,” Ava said.
Mackenzie fiddled with her glasses. “No one was near us when we were talking in class.”
“The room isn’t that big,” Caitlin said shakily. “Who’s in film studies with us?”
“Nolan,” Julie said. “Or he was.”
“Alex,” Ava said. “He’d never do something like that, even if he was eavesdropping.”
“Oliver Hodges,” Caitlin named. “Ben Riddle. Quentin Aaron. They’re off Nolan’s radar. Ursula Winters on my soccer team. Fiona Ridge, who’s vegan.”
Parker rolled her eyes. “Just because she’s vegan doesn’t mean she wouldn’t murder someone.”
Caitlin shook her head. “Fiona wouldn’t hurt a fly.”
“My friend Claire’s in the class, but I’m sure she didn’t hear us,” Mackenzie offered. “She was across the room.”
For a long moment, nobody spoke. Finches and waxwings chased one another across the courtyard, fighting over seeds. Beyond the yard’s stone walls, they heard the slick hum of traffic on wet roads.
“This is so messed up.” Ava paced back and forth, her high, spiky heels wobbling precariously on the wet stones. “What are we going to do?”
“We keep our heads down,” Julie said in a steady voice. “We know we didn’t kill anyone. This is all some kind of . . . coincidence, maybe. Or else someone is trying to get us in trouble. Either way, we should just pretend none of it happened.”
“So we . . . lie?” Mackenzie asked, biting the corner of her lip.
“We lie,” Julie said firmly.
Parker took a quick, shuddering breath. All at once, she felt eyes on the back of her neck, boring into her. She glanced back toward the entrance to the courtyard, but no one was there. No one was watching except Saint Francis, his empty stone gaze cold and distant. A shiver traveled through her body, and a telltale white-hot spike of pain jabbed through one eye. She cradled her head in her hands.
Keep it together, she thought. You can’t fall apart now.
“Are you going to the reception?” Ava was asking, glancing around at the others. The Hotchkisses had made a big deal about inviting everyone to their tony country club across town.
Mackenzie nodded miserably. “We’re performing there with the ensemble. I have to go. What about you?”
Ava shrugged. “I guess it’s probably a good idea to be seen there. We’ll just make an appearance. Eat some crudités.” She gave a short, bitter bark of laughter. “It’s going to be the party of the year.”
Another shooting pain cut through Parker’s skull, raking over her vision with lightning-white streaks. She felt Julie’s hand on her back and looked up to see that her friend had noticed what was wrong. Her eyes were wide. There was a worried look on her face.
“Meet you guys over there,” Julie said, then turned away, helping Parker to a bench. In seconds, she and Julie were alone.
“Are you okay?” Julie asked, rubbing Parker’s back.
Parker swallowed, her mouth sticky with bile. Nausea started to spread through her body. She thought she might be sick. “I don’t think I can manage the reception,” she whispered, pulling her knees up on the bench and resting her forehead against them. “Headache. Bad one. I need to go lie down.”
“Okay,” Julie said softly. “That’s all right. I don’t think anyone at the party saw you anywhere near Nolan, anyway. You don’t have to worry.”
“I’m not worried.” Parker’s voice came out angrier than she’d intended.
But her stomach writhed. Julie was right—no one had seen her at the party. She was the invisible girl, after all. There was no reason to be paranoid.