There was a light knock at her bedroom door. “Janie? You have a visitor.”
“It’s okay, Mom. Come in.” When the door opened, she surveyed her mother carefully. Claire was, as usual, immaculately groomed in linen slacks, patterned blouse, and matching cardigan. Hair carefully fixed. Makeup subtle but effective. She could be going to one of her endless meetings or ready for a day of shopping. But she dressed the same way whether she was planning to leave the house or not. If her mother had clothes for lounging, Janie had never seen them. She’d rarely even seen her in a pair of jeans.
Her color was back. The pinched look was gone from her lips, and her brow wasn’t furrowed. Something inside Janie relaxed. Whatever had been going on with her mother for the last couple of days, she seemed to have recovered.
“Is it Alyvia? I told her I’d pick her up.” Sitting on the edge of the bed, Janie pulled on a pair of flat, black-leather boots that reached nearly to the knee of her denim-clad legs. Standing again, she pulled down the hem of her hooded tunic top. Her long, straight hair was still wet. She usually allowed it to dry over breakfast. There’d be no time wasted on styling it or applying makeup. That had been Kelsey’s deal. It would never be Janie’s. She crossed to her desk and picked up her backpack. Reached for her school laptop.
“No, it’s not Alyvia.” Claire came further into the room, lowering her voice conspiratorially. “It’s a young man. He says his name is Cole.”
Janie froze. “Cole Bogart?”
“I believe that’s what he said, yes.” Claire’s expression became troubled, alerting Janie that she needed to temper her response. It took little to raise her mom’s protective instincts. “He said he knew you from school. Should I send him away?”
Cole Bogart. Janie completed the act of stuffing her laptop into her bag, her mind racing. He’d tried to reach out by e-mail a few times since they’d been in after-school suspension. She’d deleted them, unopened. Since she wasn’t on any social media sites—whom would she talk to?—he couldn’t use that avenue.
Apparently, he’d found another way to contact her.
“I’ll get rid of him.” Claire turned to the door. “I won’t have him coming here and upsetting you.”
“No.” The word burst from Janie’s lips before she could consider it. “It’s fine. He probably just wants to talk about the government project.”
“Are you sure?” Claire hovered uncertainly. “I don’t know why he couldn’t wait and speak to you at school. I have breakfast ready.”
“I’ll be in to eat in a few minutes.”
“I showed him to the family room.”
Janie nodded. The family room was far enough away from the kitchen to be private. She’d get rid of him without any fear that her mother would overhear and ask more questions.
She zipped her backpack and slowly followed her mother downstairs. Unspoken between them was the fact that this was the first time a boy had come to the house to see Janie. They’d flocked around Kelsey, although their parents refused to let them date until they were fifteen. It hadn’t stopped guys from showing up to hang out, though, usually in a mixed group. Her sister had enjoyed the attention, but there hadn’t been any one guy she’d been interested in. Janie would have known. Kelsey had shared stuff like that, chattering on about who was hot, who wasn’t, and who liked whom.
She paused at the bottom of the stairway. But there had been one thing her sister hadn’t shared. Something major. Which underscored the fact that Kelsey had had secrets Janie never knew about.
Taking a breath, she slid the backpack down one arm and left it next to the stairs before walking into the family room.
Cole was standing in front of the fireplace, hands shoved in the pockets of his Buckeyes jacket, studying the family pictures arranged on the mantel. Her chest constricted with a familiar tightness. She took a long, steady breath. Exhaled slowly. Repeated the exercise before asking, “What are you doing here?”
He turned. His smile flickered and then fell away. “Hey. Just wanted to talk to you for a minute.”
“I don’t know why.” The words burned as she forced them out. Deep breathing didn’t help. A thousand reasons for his presence here were racketing around her brain. The fact that most were ridiculous and paranoid didn’t quell their formation. She knew better than to allow any one of them to settle and take hold. Just get through it.
“I figured it’d be easier for you to talk at home.” For the first time, he looked uncertain. He reached up to push his shaggy brown hair from his eyes. “And I thought maybe you wouldn’t want anyone to see us together at school.”
The hint of uncertainty in the words had her studying him more carefully. It was unexpected. He’d seemed plenty sure of himself up until now. But they hadn’t had a real conversation, she realized suddenly. Just online.
“I couldn’t figure out why you were so mad,” he continued. “You know. Before. But then I thought about it and figured maybe you thought I was trying to set you up. Give you the material to bring down Heather Miller and then have you take the fall for it.”
She took a few more steps into the room. Came to a halt behind the couch. “Weren’t you?”
He shook his head violently enough to have his hair flying. “No. I was . . . I dunno. Trying to apologize, I guess.”
Janie blinked. This whole scene was getting more bizarre by the moment. “For changing Heather’s grades?”
“What?” His puzzlement appeared genuine. “Shit, she’s got the teachers at that school so buffaloed, all she has to do is show up and they give her a gold star. No, I . . .” His gaze slid away as his voice trailed off. After a moment, he tried again. “Last spring. I took her SATs for her.”
Janie leaned against the couch, her knees going suddenly weak. “How? You were . . .”
“Kicked out. Yeah. Didn’t mean I couldn’t sign up to take it. Ferin put us in touch. You know the two of them are a thing?” She could only nod. “Humphries monitors the test. He’s not exactly observant. Just took a little sleight of hand to switch answer forms.”
Of all the possible reasons she’d imagined for his appearance here today, this one hadn’t occurred to her. “Why tell me? I could turn you in.”
“You won’t.” He cocked a brow at her expression. “You wouldn’t use that picture against Heather, and I figure you hate her a lot more than you do me. When I switched schools last year . . . well, let’s just say I was pissed off and not thinking things through. I did some dumb stuff.”