Alice in Wonderland High (15 page)

“I need you, Alice.” She sounded like she meant it.

And I needed to hear that. I closed my eyes and repeated my mantra of
I can't anymore
. It felt more like a death sentence than a backing out of potential plans.

I gave Whitney a shrug of one shoulder and followed Di and Dru out of the room, which led me straight into Quinn's waiting arms. I let my eyelids flutter closed for a few seconds before I pasted a too-big smile on my face. It scared me how easy it was to feign interest in things I didn't care about, like a stupid plot to get revenge on Neverland High or figure out who was behind the damage to Quinn's house. I supplied her with as many conspiracy theories as I could, doing my best to keep Whitney and Chess off their radars. I kept reminding myself I was protecting them and biding my time until Kingston stopped keeping tabs on me.

Too bad I'd become his new favorite pastime. He seemed to pop up everywhere: waiting outside my classrooms, rattling down my street in his truck at unexpected times, sitting outside in the school parking lot like a volunteer security guard. Either he was really stepping up his intimidation efforts or he'd been reading a lot of spy novels. Several times, he tried to speak to me, mouth forming the shape of my name. I turned around and ignored his laser-beam eyes singeing a hole in my back.

In gym, Chess and I avoided each other like we had some unspoken agreement. Kingston practically glowed with triumph. It took exhausting effort to refrain from stealing glances in Chess's direction. I had to forget him, not pine after him.

So when a shadow darkened my locker at the end of the day about a week after I'd rejected Whitney, I hoped for one dumb second it might be him. I had gotten so used to nonsensical things happening that it seemed kind of boring and stupid for life to go back to normal.

“What do you know?” the shadow asked. Girl's voice.

I twisted around to find Whitney leaning against the adjacent locker, sizing me up. I scanned the area for Kingston. I didn't see him, but that didn't mean he wasn't lurking, cell phone in hand. “Is that a riddle?”

“No, I'm the one trying to decipher what the hell is going on with you. It's not as fun on the other side.”

I commanded my feet to step in the direction of the school parking lot, but they refused to listen. I threatened them with amputation.

“So a hint would be nice,” she said. “About why you're avoiding everyone.”

“This . . . isn't for me after all.”

“Because of Chess?” She raised her eyebrows.

I clutched my book to my chest. “What do you mean?”

“I mean you've been acting weird ever since you saw Chess the morning after your PDA freak show, and I don't believe you're that upset about Miss Queen Beeswax's house.”

“Did Chess say something? Does he miss me?” I clamped my hand over my mouth. Someone must have snuck into my room and performed a brain-to-cardboard transplant. “I mean, not that I care or anything.”

“Okay, I get it now.” She peeled herself from the locker. “Well, Chess will be happy.”

Her words shot through my body like a bullet aimed at the heart. “Why? Because I don't care?”

I shifted from foot to foot, trying to jumpstart her mouth through telekinesis. The guy waiting for the locker below mine joined my foot-tapping dance.

“Listen, I'm going to have a private meeting with myself. But not here.” Whitney eyed the guy who used the locker below mine. “It would be nice if you followed. Especially because I know what's going on with you.”

Did that mean she knew about the blackmail?

Whitney headed down the hallway in the opposite direction of the parking lot as students hopped out of her path. She walked with the kind of determination that let you know she'd plow right on into you if you didn't move. I squared my shoulders and tried to walk with the same stomping gait instead of my fluttery, girlish one.

As we glided past the French classrooms, she stabbed at the keys of her cell phone.

“What are you doing?” I gasped out, then covered my mouth.

“Telling the boys to wait in the car.” She threw her cell back in the front pocket of her messenger bag.

Knowing Kingston was nowhere near gave me courage to walk beside her. We turned into the drama wing and entered the room where the school stored old set pieces and costumes.

Inside, Whitney picked up an old cuckoo clock and tilted it in the light before setting it back down on the shelf. Her fingers roamed over dresses of every style and century, hanging from a wobbly rack. I stood in the center of the room watching her, my hands trying to squeeze my notebook into a flatter plane. When she picked up a pair of coral earrings from a jewelry box, she pocketed it.

“I don't think you're supposed to take anything.”

She swiped another piece of jewelry from the box. “There are a lot of things I'm not supposed to do.”

Sailors practiced knots in my stomach.

“Sit down or help shop. You're making me antsy.”

The nearest prop was an oversized bird's nest from last year's poorly reimagined version of Aesop's fables. Whoever thought morals would make exciting pop musical numbers had clearly overestimated the average student's willingness to attend school activities. I rested in the scratchy weave of branches.

“Why is Chess happy that I'm . . . ” The word hid in my throat but I coaxed it out anyway. “Quitting?”

“That's not why.” Whitney knelt in front of a basket of hats, rummaging through them.

“Dumb it down for me.”

“He thought you were mad at him. But I kept telling him you weren't.” She grabbed a handful of ornate pins and stuffed them into her bag. “So then he thought it was because you found out about him and that's why you didn't want to be in the group.”

“Because he had wet hair? Why was that, by the way?”

“So, clearly you don't know and therefore something else changed your mind.” She opened a drawer from a nearby bureau, peered inside, then slammed it shut again. “And Kingston was in a great mood all week. We both know that's rare.”

My heart beat faster. She'd figured it out. “You can't let him know you know!”

“
I'm
not scared of him.” She flung another drawer shut.

“But you're not the one he threatened,” I whispered. “He said if I told you—”

“Let me guess, he'd make sure you took the fall?” She rolled her eyes. “He's so predictable.”

The door swung open, and I jumped out of the nest. Whitney continued rifling through another rack of clothes, completely relaxed as both Chess and Kingston entered. Chess took one look at me and paused in the doorway. His fingers indented the soda can he clutched in one hand. Kingston glared at me under the shadow of his newsboy cap. The smile I was supposed to wear for Chess spread slowly over Kingston's lips as he extracted his cell phone.

He punched in keys, gawking giddily at the screen like he'd uncovered a website with free porn.

“Don't.” Whitney tossed a pillow at him, knocking the phone out of his palm. The cell skidded across the floor and under a bureau.

“You said you told them to stay in the car!” I blurted.

“I lied.” Whitney shrugged. “I thought that was obvious.”

Chess backed into a corner of the room, not meeting my eye. He perched on the top of the bureau, his elbows propped up by his knees. He stared into the soda can like it held all the answers to his finals.

“What exactly did you threaten her with?” Whitney asked Kingston.

“I did you a favor. She's a serpent, a fucking snake in the grass.”

“Who uses the word
serpent
anyway?” Whitney resumed her shopping spree.

“I like it,” Kingston said. “It sounds evil.”

“I think I've proven I'm trustworthy.” I stole a glance in Chess's direction and gave him a quick, forbidden smile. If the smile's recipient didn't see it, was it like a tree falling in the woods?

“I thought we had an understanding, Alice?” Kingston drew his finger across his lips.

“She didn't tell me, King. It wasn't that hard to figure out. You were practically gloating about it.” Whitney tossed a blue Victorian dress at Chess. It hit him in the face and draped over his head. He reached up and pulled it off, messing up his hair. “And Chess, stop moping. That's why she was acting all weird. Not because of you.”

“Really?” He lifted his eyes to meet mine. I shot him the best nod I could muster. His shoulders relaxed, and he rose from the bureau. He walked over to me while the others watched, dropping the soda into a trashcan on his way.

Kingston retrieved the mopey expression Chess had discarded and fastened it to his face. “You better not start making out here,” he threatened in a voice that could make a baby cry. Or maybe it was more like a voice that sounded like a whiny baby.

“Or what?” Whitney asked. “What were the terms?”

I stood and grabbed Chess's hand. “He said I had to stay away from you. From the group.”

Chess twisted me around and pulled me onto his lap on the nest. His hands encircled my waist, squeezing like a harness, like he couldn't bear to let me go. He smelled so good, a mixture of soda and boy. I crumpled into him, trying to get as close as possible while still being PG.

“Enjoy it.” Kingston crossed the room to the bureau and bent to reach beneath it. “As far as I'm concerned, she broke the deal. She's a fucking snake-in-the-grass spy. She acts all innocent, like a
little girl,
and then—bam! The truth comes out, and we're all screwed.”

“Don't be ridiculous,” Chess said, resting his chin on the top of my head. “She hasn't told anyone.”

“Yet.” Kingston swept his arm beneath the bureau and retrieved the cell. “Little birdies always sing.”

“Kingston, if you even think about hitting send, you'll regret it.” Whitney slammed down the receiver on a rotary phone she'd been inspecting. “I'll be forced to extend the same courtesy to you. I know plenty of things you don't want revealed.”

“I'm not hitting send.” He strode over to Whitney and lifted the cell phone to show her something. “See that girl next to Alice? The other blonde? That's her sister.”

Chess tried to leap off the nest, but my body weighed him down. “Now you're threatening her family, too?”

But of course, that wasn't what Kingston was doing.

“Want to know where she works?” Kingston pulled the cell phone back so he could see it and pressed more buttons. “Health and Safety.” He clicked again. “The assholes who are investigating us. Do you recognize that, Whit?” His voice was schoolgirl giddy.

She squinted at the screen. “Is this true, Alice?”

Kingston walked over and graciously showed Chess and me the three photos. One of Lorina and me walking to her car outside the grocery store. Another of Lorina entering Town Hall. And the last, of her with clipboard in hand at the scene of the house reforestation.

I didn't like Kingston, but I hoped he'd grow up to be a private investigator.

“Her sister is leading the investigation. Alice is a snaky spy.” He leaned against the wall and pointed the cell phone at me, a satisfied smile punctuating the gesture.

“Is Kingston right? Are you spying on us?” The air conditioner drowned out Whitney's whispered words. I blamed my goosebumps on the blast of cold air.

I twisted in Chess's lap to face him. He kept his arms tightly secured around me, but his eyes swam back and forth as he studied me.

“I'm not working for my sister as a spy.” I tried to keep my voice steady, so it would sound as truthful as it actually was. “But she
is
investigating you. I'm on your side, though.” My voice cracked. “I would never betray you.”

Chess squeezed me tightly. I hoped that meant he believed me.

“If that's true, prove it.” Kingston crossed his arms.

“How?”

“Steal your sister's keys to Town Hall and let us in so we can look at their files.”

My stomach settled into the floor. “That's . . . insane.”

Chess waved his hands in the air. “No way. Too big a crime if we get caught.”

“Everything has a boundary,” Whitney said.

“Well, then I don't trust her. She needs to prove she's with us, not her sister. This is the only way to do it.”

My pulse beat at the base of my neck. “I don't feel comfortable breaking and entering.”

“I'll do it.” Kingston reached into his pocket and extracted the bag of mushrooms. “Just get the keys.” He popped one in his mouth.

“Are you getting high at school?” I blurted before I could stop myself.

He burst out laughing. Everyone stared at him. “Sorry,” he said while chewing. “Joke. You had to be there.”

I didn't point out the obvious: we
were
there.

“Okay.” Whitney zipped up her messenger bag and retreated into a rocking chair. “I think there's only one course of action here. I'm sorry, Chess, but we need to disband the group.”

“What?” Kingston ripped himself off the wall and stomped into the middle of the room. He spit the half-chewed mushroom on the ground. “How will that solve anything?”

“It's too dangerous now, King. Too many people know too many things. If you found out about Alice's sister, it's only a matter of time before she finds out about us. I don't see how we can continue. I'm really sorry, Chess.”

I felt like a brick tied to his ankle, dragging him to the bottom of the ocean. I rubbed his hand as an apology, but I knew it didn't really solve anything.

Chess sighed. “Yeah, I understand.”

“Fuck that.” Kingston picked up a garbage can and threw it at the wall. Papers flew everywhere, and Chess's soda can sprayed like a geyser all over the dresses. “All this time I've been patient, waiting for my turn. Chess isn't the only one being screwed over by this.”