She ignores me.
Our last conversation plays over and over in my head until finally, one tiny detail stands out. “Last time we chatted, you were pretty adamant he never loved her.”
“I know he didn’t.” Her voice is bitter, and a strange look flashes across her face so fast, I almost miss it.
“Oh my God.” I blink. “Were you jealous of him?”
Her face reddens, but now she won’t look at me at all.
“After everything she did to you?”
She sits quietly for a moment, then digs some cash out of her bag and leaves it on the table. “You’re a lot stupider than I gave you credit for.”
Aisha’s Jeep pulls up outside and I’m about to let this go, but as Reva slides to the edge of the booth, I remember how oddly it struck me that Marcus knew so much about her. His explanation was that Gretchen had bragged about what she’d done, and I accepted that at the time. But it stands out like a red flag to me now.
“He knows what Gretchen had on you.” I speak slowly, trying to figure out why Marcus would’ve lied. “But she would never have told him that.”
Reva sets down her notebook, but doesn’t seem at all surprised.
“Did you tell him?” I ask. “Why would you do that?”
“I couldn’t very well ask you for help.”
I sit straighter, chewing my lip. At least some part of this is beginning to make sense. “You asked him to get the video.”
Reva exhales and gathers her things. “For the record, Marcus Perez is a liar. And pretty worthless at doing what he’s asked.”
My arms break out in goose bumps. “What else have you asked him to do?”
Outside, Aisha taps her horn twice. Reva stands.
“I have the video, Reva.” I swallow. Right next to the one of Marcus. “I’ve never told anyone what’s on it. I—I’m going to destroy it.”
She gives me an icy smile. “Going to. I think those were the words Marcus used. I guess I’ll just put all my faith in you now, since you’re such a great person. Thanks.” She picks up her bag and stands, looking down at me from a pair of high wedge heels. “You can tell Marcus I don’t need him anymore. He’s probably over at Evil Bean. He spends a lot of extra time there, between meeting with you and his other girlfriend.”
I narrow my eyes, confused.
“Oops.” She covers her mouth, making no attempt to hide her smile. “I thought you knew he was seeing Kirsten Meyer.”
THIRTY-EIGHT
MARCUS ISN’T IN SCHOOL AND hasn’t answered any of my texts. I can’t help noticing Kirsten’s absent today too. I go through the motions all day, stopping at my locker, raising my hand in class, but by last period even my teachers start to ask if I’m okay. Reva’s words have smoldered inside my head to the point that I can hardly think about anything else. I don’t trust her in the slightest—she’s made it clear she’s looking for every reason to cause trouble. But I doubt she’d make the effort without expecting some kind of payoff.
When I think of everything Marcus has said, the things we’ve done the last few days, my stomach turns to stone. I need to talk to him—get him to explain this so it makes sense. I just can’t believe it could all be a lie.
“Aren’t you supposed to be learning or something?”
The door of the guidance office clicks shut behind me. I look up to find Shelly walking toward me in uniform.
“There was some stuff I had to clear up for my scholarship.” I glance around, looking for the sheriff or Amir. If Marcus turned in the recording, I expect to have half the sheriff’s office and my mother down my throat. But Shelly’s alone. “Is everything okay?”
“I’m just covering for Deputy Brennan. His wife had a baby last night, so I got volun-told to cover the school, and you, for a couple weeks.” She winks at me.
I breathe a sigh of relief. He hasn’t handed it over yet . . . though I’m not sure why he’d wait. “Thanks again for pitching in at the diner Monday. It really meant a lot.”
“Glad I could help out. It was fun working with Dina again.” She shakes her head. “I can’t believe you’re heading off to college already. We’re all so proud of you.”
“Thanks.” I hesitate, clearing my throat. “Even my mom seems to want me to go now.”
“Are you kidding? I thought she was going to freak right out when you got that scholarship. She busted in on the sheriff’s meeting with the mayor, she was so excited.”
I squirm. “That . . . sounds like my mother.” Shelly isn’t one to exaggerate, but sometimes it’s hard to tell my mom’s happy excitement from her panicky angst. I’m pretty sure her enthusiasm is a recent development.