“You’ve got study first period. You don’t have to be in,” I reminded her.
“It’s okay, I don’t mind. I’m up anyway. It wouldn’t kill me to go to the library. I’ll be there in ten minutes.”
“The way you drive?” I managed to joke.
“Okay, twenty. But I’ll still be faster than the bus. I’ll pick you up in the back lot. I’ll text you when I get there.”
I hung up and peered out of the blinds again. The female reporter rubbed her arms against the morning chill. If Drew was right, it was only a matter of time until there’d be more. I was glad she was picking me up, but I couldn’t shake the idea that she also liked having a front-row view of everything happening.
This had to end. I couldn’t sleep. I was chewing the flesh off my thumbs. Every sound made me jump, and my stomach was full of acid every minute of the day. If it didn’t come to a close soon, I was going to snap.
I opened the bedroom door and peeked out, making sure my mom wasn’t up yet. It was unlikely she’d be awake without me knowing it. My mom was connected to the TV. She couldn’t stand to be in a room and not have it on. No TV was almost a certain indicator she was still dead to the world, but I wasn’t taking a chance. I tiptoed down the hall and pressed my ear to her door. I heard her breathing heavily in tandem with the fan she ran for white noise.
I slunk back to my room and lifted the mattress, scrambling to find the disposable phone where I’d hidden it. For a split second I couldn’t locate it, and panic flooded my system. Stolen! Then my fingers brushed the cool plastic. I made myself grab it and pull it out—?part of me didn’t even want to touch it. I could picture a SWAT team crashing through the front door as soon as I turned it on—?drawn by the phone’s GPS or some magical CSI technology I couldn’t even imagine. I punched in the number. It rang for a long time before she picked up.
“Why are you calling?”
“Nice to hear your voice too,” I said. “Listen—”
“Remember, don’t use my name.”
My hands squeezed the phone harder. “I got it.”
“It’s not a joke. One mistake, and we’re both in deep shit.”
“Fine, listen Pluto, the situation is bad.”
An annoyed sigh came through the phone. “I thought we settled this last night.”
“We need to end this now.”
“Not yet. He’ll pay. I’ve got a plan to turn up the heat.”
My intestines knit themselves into a knotted snarl. “No, we don’t need to turn up the heat, we need to end it. It’s not working.” I pulled my thumb from my mouth. I was bleeding. “The press is involved.”
“So? We knew they would be.”
“No, I mean involved with me.” I thumped my chest. “I was trying to explain this last night. My mom sort of outed my role in everything.”
“Jesus, what an idiot.” Even Paige’s breathing sounded irritated.
I flushed. My mom had done something stupid, but everyone knew the unwritten rule was that you could call your own parents every name in the book, but everyone else should shut their mouths. Or maybe it was that Paige hated the idea of me getting any of the attention she’d worked so hard to get. She wasn’t the kind of person who liked sharing.
“It’s not like my mom knows anything,” I stressed. “She thought she was doing a good thing. She’s . . . I guess you would call it proud.”
She snorted. “Well, it’s not a good thing. It’s a distraction, and it’s not a part of the plan.”
“I remember the plan,” I said. “I don’t need you to remind me. Look, your dad isn’t going to pay, so just come home.” If she came back, we wouldn’t get a ransom, but I might still be able to carve out a win. I would have helped bring her home. People would find that fascinating.
They would find me fascinating.
“I’m not ready for this to be over,” Paige said.
“Too bad. This isn’t your decision. Half of the ransom was supposed to be mine, and I need the cash a whole shit pile worse than you do. If anyone should be whining, it’s me. You threatened me last night, but you need to remember that anything you can do to me, I can do to you.”
“I never threatened you,” Paige said. “Don’t turn into a drama queen. You always knew this wasn’t a guarantee.”
Bullshit. All I’d heard about was how this scheme couldn’t miss. The term “money in the bank” had been tossed around. Now all of sudden there was no guarantee. “Every day this goes on, the bigger the chance it blows up in our faces.” I couldn’t believe she didn’t get it. “I tried to explain this to you last night, but you wouldn’t listen. I’m going in tomorrow and telling them about the cabin.”
“No.”
I snorted. “It’s not up to you. I’m ending it. I called to give you a heads-up so you’ve got a day to prepare. The cops will be there tomorrow, and you need to be ready.”
“Give me a couple more days. I’m telling you—?he’ll pay. He isn’t going to want it to come out that he wouldn’t pay to get his daughter home safe. That’s an election killer.”
“Worrying about your dad’s electability isn’t my problem. Getting my ass arrested for this is. If all of this comes out, I’m looking at serious problems.”
A bitter laugh came through the phone. “You have no idea of real problems. If you think you are in ass deep, then I am in waaaaaaay over my head.”
I softened my voice. “Your boyfriend talked to me. He knows something is up.”
“Ryan?! How did he—” She stopped talking for a beat. “Ryan’s my ex. What did he say?” Her voice was clipped and all business.
“He was at the movie theater. He followed me there. He heard about me on the news.”
“Shit. I told you to pay attention. How did you miss him trailing after you?”
I felt a flush of annoyance. “I did pay attention. I didn’t know I was supposed to be looking out for some guy you used to date. Ryan knows something is up.”
“I have to think,” Paige said.
There was silence on the phone.
“Are you still there?” I asked.
“Where else would I go? Don’t you do a thing until we talk again.” Then she hung up.
Twenty-One
“Hey, Skye!”
I turned, and a bunch of junior girls waved at me. They were at least the fifth group of people to call out to me as we came into school. I raised a hand back, and they giggled and scurried down the hall. I watched them round the corner in a tight cluster.
I turned to Drew. “What the hell is going on?”
“Everyone knows you’re the psychic the media is talking about.” She nudged me with her elbow. “Welcome to being famous.”
“Great,” I mumbled under my breath.
“Maybe you can parlay this newfound fame into getting a killer date for prom.” Drew took a careful sip of the coffee we’d stopped to get on the way. Not that she was drinking real coffee: it was some kind of dessert in a cup. If you don’t like coffee, fine, but don’t pretend to like it by making it into a sugar smoothie.
“The last thing I need to worry about is a date,” I said.
“You could go out with that guy from your apartment building. He was hot.”
I stopped. “What guy?”