Wrecked

Since the Matt Trainor event, Madison and the rest of the team have dubbed Richard “Mr. Hottie.”

“That would end us,” Haley tells her, not bothering to explain that it’s the runners and not the running she’ll miss. “He’s definitely not an early--morning person.”

“More the late--night type?” Madison says suggestively.

Haley smiles but doesn’t elaborate. They return to wondering aloud what it will be like to see old high school friends after their first semester at college.

“You’re going back a NARP,” Madison teases, then looks instantly sorry.

Haley shrugs it off. “I suspect that’ll be harder on my mother than on me.”

She’d considered not going home at all for Thanksgiving. Their blowout, when she finally confronted Mom about calling Jenny’s mother, was epic. But once the dust cleared and they realized the battery of hard words had not left anyone mortally wounded, they agreed to limp through the holiday together for her dad’s sake. He deserved to have his daughter home.

“Speaking of hotties,” Haley says now, glancing behind Madison, “Kyle alert.”

Madison doesn’t turn. As he passes their table, carrying his plate, she wears a pained expression. “So gorgeous,” Madison moans. “Let’s hope next time I fall for a hipster, he’s straight.”

“Now he’s a hipster? I thought you said he’s a lumber-sexual?”

“Slight difference. Think more artsy, less outdoorsy. More Freeport Signature, less North Face. At any rate, it’s depressing. Have you noticed that the best--looking guys around here are dating each other?”

“Or me,” Haley says.

Madison kicks her under the table. “I still haven’t forgiven you for not warning me in time. I show up at Out House one night, all set to flirt outrageously, and there he was, all cozy on the couch with his equally gorgeous boyfriend,” she says. “At least Jenny seemed happy to see me.”

“How was she?”

“Good, considering. Everyone there seems to really like her. And for the record, can I just say I think it’s super stupid that you two aren’t speaking?”

“We speak,” Haley corrects her, “when we see each other. We just don’t cross paths is all.”

Neither of them says anything for a minute.

Madison seems focused on her tea bag, repeatedly dunking it in her full mug. “So, where’s that whole thing at, if I may ask? Or are you still not allowed to talk about it?”

“The process is no secret. Mona told me that it’s at some review stage. The investigator put together this packet with all the witness statements, including what Jenny and the guy she’s accused said, and both of them have a week to read it and decide if they want to add anything. It’s a total pain; they can only read the report at the office where it’s kept. They can’t make copies, can’t check it out. It’s this bizarre, ultrasecret thing. Anyway, once they’re done reading and amending, the investigator files a final report and a committee decides what happens.”

“How long will that take?”

“I don’t know. Probably the end of the semester.”

Madison doesn’t comment right away. She seems very interested in her tea bag. “You know, Tamra and Marliese, they talk about what happened that night.”

“Well, they shouldn’t,” Haley snaps. “Tell them to shut up.”

That’s Madison’s cue to change the subject. But she doesn’t.

“They said the guy? Jordan Somebody? They said he got shut out of that party. Marliese and the other girls saw it. He walked out and couldn’t get back in. Dude was furious. And Jenny? They said she was talking to a different guy most of the night.”

Haley stares at her. She knows she should tell Madison to stop speaking right now. But she’s practically paralyzed by her own surprise.

“Tamra says hardly anyone noticed Jenny at the party, and the ones who did? They never saw her with Jordan.”

“Oh, so the all--knowing T has checked in with every witness? Tamra and Marliese, who deserted Jenny at that place and now need to cover their guilty asses?” Haley finally manages. “Give me a break. Hundreds of people were in and out of there that night.”

“I don’t know, Haley. The whole thing sounds sketch. And Tamra—”

“You know what? We’ve crossed into the not--supposed--to--be--talking--about--it stuff,” Haley interrupts.

Madison looks insulted. Which annoys Haley even more. Why does it take hitting this person over the head with a two--by--four to get through to her?

“How about you chill, okay?” Madison says. “It’s not like what you and I say is going to make any difference.” She abandons the sodden tea bag in the cup and begins gathering her things.

Just as well, Haley thinks. Before one of us says something we’ll both regret. She begins clearing her tray when her phone chimes. Text.

It’s from Mona.

Have u heard about J’s case?

Haley texts back: ??

“I’ll see you later,” she hears Madison say.

“Wait . . . M,” Haley begins, but Madison heads toward the exit. The phone chimes again.

College dropped it. J freaking out

Haley stares at the screen. What does she mean “dropped”?

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