Dial Em for Murder (15 page)

I couldn't think of a single thing to say in response. Not a damn thing.

You think there's something special about you, but there isn't.

That summed up the situation between us pretty concisely.

No need for the let's-just-stay-friends talk or the it's-not-you-it's-me excuse. Ben didn't need to make his position any clearer. I'd gotten the message and it was humiliating enough to last a lifetime. I stood frozen in horror as it finally sank in that we were never, ever getting together. That after careful consideration, he'd reached the conclusion that I was nothing special.

“I've got to go,” I lied.

“Emmy—”

I hung up and leaned against the wall as my whole body shook with tremors of self-loathing.

It wasn't rejection
, I told myself numbly. It couldn't count as rejection if I hadn't officially put the offer out on the table. We had merely reached an understanding.

He wanted me to come home because we were friends. Buddies. Pals. Not because I was anyone special to him. My chest felt excruciatingly tight, as if I'd been sentenced to die beneath great slabs of stone during the Salem witch trials.

My phone beeped to signal that I had a new text message.

Sure. Absolutely. Just as soon as the idea of pretending that everything was normal between us didn't make me want to vomit. I'd give him a call the instant I figured out how
not
to be in love with him. Considering that I'd been trying to move past this stupid one-sided crush for years, I didn't think that would be happening anytime soon.

My pride still required that I respond to his text. Otherwise he might think I was sulking or pouting or throwing a hissy fit. Or worse, he might stumble across the truth. I quickly dashed off a response and hit send before I could reconsider it.

I tried to imagine how a plucky heroine would handle this kind of rejection. Would she drown her sorrows in a pint of ice cream? Maybe. The idea definitely held appeal, but rocky road wasn't going to fix any of my problems.

I needed to hack into the Slate.

Luckily for me, I knew just who to call.

“You want me to hack into a dead man's tablet?”

It sounded incredibly morbid when Audrey put it that way, although I couldn't dispute the facts. All I could do was try to put a more appealing spin on it.

“You love hacking!” I reminded her. “Trying to figure out an algorithm you can run and—” my mind drew a total blank, “doing all those other hack-y things.”

“Hack-y things?” Audrey laughed. “Are you sure you want to be a writer? Words are not your friends, Emmy.”

I shrugged, brushing that aside. “That's what keeps editors in business. Focus, Audrey. I am offering you an incredible opportunity here. A chance of a lifetime.
You
can have the first crack at hacking into a beautiful piece of state-of-the-art technology. There's no way you can pass that up!”

I didn't need to see Audrey's face to know that she was tempted. “How intricate of a password are we talking about here?”

“Six digits.”

“I might have to write a program,” she said thoughtfully, and I knew that I had her. Audrey attacked technological puzzles with the same enthusiasm Ben's dad reserved for the
New York Times
Crossword. For Audrey, computer hacking was self-expression, defiance, and art all wrapped together.

“No promises.”

“Just give it a shot. Work your magic.”

That
was a mistake. Audrey was a tech wizard; Nasir, on the other hand, was an actual magician. Not even kidding. My best friend was torn up over a guy who pulled rabbits out of his hat for fun. They had met at an underground geek event where Audrey's appreciation for a good card trick had brought them together. Ever since they'd broken up, I had steered clear of anything even remotely connected to magic around her.

So, of course, I stepped right into it now.

“Uh, sure.” Audrey obviously wasn't thinking about the Slate anymore. “So how is it going at Emptor Academy? Make any new friends?”

“I have, actually,” I said, more than a little surprised by my own answer. “My roommate. Kayla. She's very upbeat and sparkly. You'll like her, though.”

“Sounds like you're having no trouble fitting in. New school. New friends. Next you'll have a new boyfriend and no time for your old life anymore.”

There was something unsettling about her tone that I couldn't pinpoint until I'd mentally replayed her words. Then it hit me: Audrey was only half-joking.

“You caught me, Audrey.” I released an overly dramatic love-struck sigh. “I admit it. I've been sneaking around with Sebastian on the sly. What can I say? There's something about the way he says ‘financial quarter' that makes me melt.”

“
I knew it!
”

I spun around to see a triumphant Kayla thrusting her fist in the air. “I
knew
you had a thing for Sebastian!”

“Sarcasm, Kayla. That was sarcasm.”

“You're with her now?” Audrey sounded startled. “I didn't realize she was right there. I'll let you go then.”

“She snuck up on me.” I narrowed my eyes at Kayla as I tried to do some immediate damage control. “Did I happen to mention that Kayla is part ninja, part unicorn, and completely immune to sarcasm?”

Kayla nodded. “I'm fine with that description. Although I think we both know that—”

There was no way I could maintain two conversations at once. “I've got to go, Audrey. I'll call you again soon, okay? Thanks for helping me.”

“Sure. No problem,” Audrey said stiffly. “Later, Em.”

She disconnected first, leaving a tight knot in the pit of my stomach. In the space of twenty minutes I'd managed to strain my relationship with the two most important people in my life. I half-expected Sebastian to announce over the school intercom system that students at Emptor Academy were expected—even
encouraged
—to alienate people from their past. That this was another one of my lessons. Right up there with accepting lifelines and avoiding adults. I could hear the rough scrape of Sebastian's voice in my head.
Here's your third lesson, Emmy. Ditch anyone who holds you back from greatness.

“You ready to go?” Kayla asked uncertainly. “I thought you might need help finding our Negotiation and Diplomacy class. Mrs. Chin is strict on tardiness, so move it or lose it.”

I unplugged the charger and my cell phone beeped at me in disgust. Five percent battery life. Great. Maybe I could send one last text before it conked out on me. Then again, who was really left for me to irritate?

“Ready.”

Kayla tucked her arm through mine and began leading me down the hallway like a perky guide dog. “Ex-cellent. So tell me more about your crush on Sebastian. Financial quarter, huh? Interesting. That's not how it works for most of the girls.”

I couldn't pass up such a golden opportunity to do a little digging of my own.

“Really?” I said, casually. “What about Peyton?”

Kayla ground to a halt, her eyes widening into a stricken expression. “I totally forgot about Peyton. Trust me, you do
not
want to get on her bad side.”

I decided against telling Kayla that her warning was delivered about three hours too late. “Is she part of Sebastian's harem then?”

Kayla snorted at the description. “Peyton doesn't share. She's bad news. Rumor has it her dad is a foreign ambassador and her mom is a stripper turned trophy wife. Then again, I've also heard that she's an amateur drag racer who made a fortune in Monaco. When it comes to Peyton avoidance is the best policy.” She pursed her lips thoughtfully. “Although if you're serious about this thing with Sebastian—”

“I'm not!”

Kayla shook her head as if she didn't know why I bothered denying it. “Uh-huh. Well
hypothetically
if you were interested—”

“Like if a tragic car accident left my brain scrambled?” That didn't sound like a half bad movie premise. “If Sebastian showed up and . . . I'm sorry, Kayla. I'm still not buying it. He wouldn't visit a hospital unless it was part of a scheme to rob the terminally ill.”

“Wow, that's harsh. You're really not kidding, are you?”

I shook my head. “Totally serious.”

“I thought it was just your way of flirting. The two of you would irritate each other at first, but then everything would change.”

“No, then we'd continue disliking each other,” I corrected her. “I love a good romance as much as the next girl. Actually, I love a good romance more than a
lot
of girls, but not every boy pulling pigtails on the playground has a crush. Some of them are little jerks who grow up to be even bigger jerks because nobody told them to keep their hands to themselves.”

“Oh look, we're here!” Kayla pointed to a classroom door that was a good thirty feet ahead of us. “Right on time. Follow my lead, okay? You need to make a very good first impression with Mrs. Chin.”

“And if I don't?” I asked warily.

“Then you'll spend every day for the next few years trying to fix the damage.”

Point taken.

“Good morning, Mrs. Chin,” Kayla said warmly, giving the tiny woman with a pageboy haircut her toothiest smile. I tried to imitate the expression, but it probably looked like I had a bad case of indigestion. “This is Emmy. She's interested in joining the Speech and Debate team.”

“I am?” I coughed and pretended to clear my throat as Mrs. Chin skewered me with an intense pair of jet black eyes. “I mean,
yes
, I am.”

Kayla nodded her encouragement. “I think she'll be a great addition to the team.”

I wasn't sure how I was supposed to respond to that obvious lie, so I stood there mutely with a fake smile plastered across my face. Internally, I began to panic. I wasn't prepared to lead a debate in front of the class. And if she asked me to recite the Gettysburg Address, I was screwed.

My pulse began pounding a frantic beat.

Mrs. Chin nodded so curtly it didn't ruffle a single hair. “Welcome to Negotiation and Diplomacy, Emmy.”

“Thanks. We should probably—” My voice withered under the renewed weight of Mrs. Chin's examination. Her diminutive stature didn't make her any less intimidating.

“Take our seats,” Kayla finished for me, then nodded politely at Mrs. Chin before propelling us toward two vacant seats in the third row.

“Won't she hate me more when I don't join Speech and Debate?” I hissed as I pulled out my notebook and flipped to a blank page.

Kayla stared at me in confusion. “Of course you're joining. Our team is
awesome
! We've been state champions six years in a row.”

Her words made me want to bang my head against the long carved wooden table that was far too regal to be called a desk. Not when there weren't any initials etched into the surface, no gum stuck to the bottom, no dents or gouges from years of neglect. It was beautiful and expensive and ridiculously impractical for a classroom. It didn't belong there.

Or rather,
I
didn't belong there.

“Let's discuss the Treaty of Versailles. What did you think of the reading, Kasdan?”

A blond-haired Slavic-looking boy with thick tortoise-shell glasses paled. “I think that it's important to weigh long-term ramifications over immediate gratification.”

“What do you think, Em?” Kayla's lips barely moved. “Is that sexier than, oh I dunno,
financial quarter
?”

I bit the inside of my cheek to stifle a laugh.

“Since you're overflowing with commentary, Kayla, why don't you share your thoughts on the Fourteen Points plan?” Mrs. Chin said coldly.

I spent the rest of the class period trying to come up with a way to stay on campus without taking classes. Listening to my new classmates debate some random treaty was a total waste of time that would be much better spent figuring out why Frederick St. James had targeted me in the first place.

Except I couldn't escape the classroom without drawing more attention to myself.

“I'll help you catch up,” Kayla promised when the bell finally rang. “Don't worry, okay? It's nothing you can't handle.”

Sure. And I didn't stick out like a sore thumb here. Oh, and Ben's total lack of romantic feelings for me didn't hurt in the slightest. As long as we were lying, we might as well go all out.

“Ready for lunch?”

The promise of food was enough to break through the haze of self-pity.

“Yes! Yes, I am.” I picked up my pace until I was half-walking, half-trotting to the nearest exit. “I want all the food. All of it. Is it a buffet or does a butler bring it out?”

Kayla laughed. “Yes, all meals are served by butlers here. We also have an extra manservant who announces our name every time we enter the banquet hall.”

I really hoped she was kidding.

“What's next on your schedule?”

I glanced down at the paper that I had folded a dozen times since I'd left President Gilcrest's office.

“I have ballroom dance after lunch. Unless you can get me out of it.” I pretended to bat my lashes. “Use your status as a highly valued instructor to help your roommate out?”

“Please describe me that way to Ms. Helsenberg. Please. Her expression would be priceless. She thinks I'm a joke.” Kayla didn't appear overly upset by it and sounded more matter-of-fact than anything else.

“How's that possible? You're an Olympic-level athlete!”