Alice in Wonderland High (28 page)

“No, I have a key. All the class presidents do. It's one of the perks of being so awesome.” She dropped the flamingo and bent over. “I wear it to keep it safe.” She scrunched down both socks, revealing only pasty flesh. “Huh, well, it was here last night. I must have forgotten to wear it today. I do that sometimes.”

I stared at her ankle, a dull ache pounding in the back of my head. She had used it last night while Kingston was there. And now the key was missing. It didn't take a forensics report to determine this wasn't a coincidence.

I may have stumbled onto that giant clue, but I patted myself on the back for my sleuthing skills. Maybe Kingston wasn't the only one with the CIA in his future. Or, well, he would probably be working against the government.

“Okay, so you did the school.” I tried to keep my voice steady. She was talking, and I wanted to keep her doing that. “But why my house?”

“It was only fair.” Quinn practiced a swing with the flamingo, air swooshing. “After all, you destroyed my house. I owed you the same courtesy.”

I swallowed. “I didn't. I don't know what Kingston said, but—”

She wheeled, her hair whipping her face. “Really? You're going to deny this? I already told you I've seen the evidence.”

Gulp. Guess that explained the photos she'd seen.

She pointed the flamingo at me. “Come to think of it, I let you off easy. You still owe me. So tell me about this Homecoming thing with Kingston. Did he ask you or not?”

“He didn't ask me, no. I just got the feeling he was doing the prank then.”

Quinn let out a relieved sigh. “Obviously not, since we already did it.”

“Right,” I said for her benefit. I didn't believe for a second that Kingston's plan ended at painting flowers.

“Why do you even like him?” I asked again. It was so nonsensical; I couldn't comprehend it.

“Because he's cute. And he's really funny, all those things he says.”

We were talking about the same Kingston, right?

“And other reasons.” She looked away, a smile tugging at her lips. “I've had a crush on him forever,” she admitted. “There's just something about him.”

Yeah, his crime streak. Or his insanity. Take your pick. I readied a witty quip but let it fade on my tongue. She was right, I had destroyed her house. I should make it right. “Quinn, you need to know.” I tapped the tennis ball with my “mallet.” “I think Kingston's using you.”

She snorted. “Using me how? Because he told me he loved me.”

Right, because Kingston saying something like that wouldn't get him farther with her, in secret plans or otherwise. “He has something planned, and it's not good. I think you should break up with him.”

“God, I knew it.” Quinn whacked the flamingo so hard, she decapitated it. “I knew there was something going on with you two. Did you dump him or something? Is that why he convinced me to get revenge on you?”

So it wasn't her idea? Now
that
was surprising. But not the part about Kingston being behind it. The side we had briefly coexisted on once again separated into opposite battlefields.

Quinn started to march away.

“Wait!” I rushed after her, heart pounding. “The pictures you saw. Please don't say anything!”

She considered this for several seconds. I thought my lungs might explode from withheld breath. “I should probably press charges. But I know you'd do the same to my friends.” She huffed. “Stay away from my boyfriend and I'll forget what I saw.”

If only it could be that easy. Because something told me that whatever Kingston was planning for Homecoming wouldn't exactly make her fall more in love with him. And if he turned her off, what loyalty did she have for keeping my secret?

Sneaking out the night of the dance should have been easy. Lorina wasn't home. In fact, the last few nights she'd come home after I'd already gone to bed, tiptoeing through the halls with such care and consideration to avoid waking me, it was like she was stealing something. I deserved a far worse punishment than tacit freedom, which was why my stomach spun with guilt as I slipped out the front door. I almost wished she would come home and catch me, because at least then I wouldn't feel like I was backstabbing her. Like I said, sneaking out should have been easy.

The hardest part of all was going through with it.

I arrived at the school parking lot before Whitney. Shocker. Pinks and oranges streaked the sky, slowly rotting into the black of night. I paced by the back row of cars where we'd said we'd meet.

Fifteen minutes late, she tromped into the parking lot. I brushed down my boring, light-blue, go-to A-line dress as she approached. I'd left the house in such a fit of nerves, I'd completely forgotten to wear a jacket and now my hands were numb. Whitney, on the other hand, rocked a puffy, white ski jacket with a pair of dangerous, thigh-high boots and a frilly, white skirt. Angel and devil rolled into one.

“Talked to your sister today,” she said. Her white-blonde hair fell in long crinkles down her back. She looked like a black-and-white pencil drawing, the blues of her eyes the only discernible color.

I froze. “You—you talked to my sister?”

She grinned. “Yep, nice little chat. Nice for me, probably crappy for her.”

A scream of frustration built in my chest, but I forced it back down. “What did you talk about? When did you talk to her? Where—”

“At least you have the ‘who' question answered.” Whitney blew out a breath that curled in the frigid air. “She knocked on my door. Apparently, I was the Grand-Prize Winner, suspect number one. I only obliged because I'm a better chess player than Kingston. I can see all his moves before he makes them.”

Her words raised the hair on my arms. “Please. You're killing me. I need a little more info than that!” I spoke my next words very clearly, so there would be no room for misinterpreting. “What exactly did you say to my sister?”

“The truth of my whereabouts. When I watched Kingston disappear into Quinn's car the other night, I figured I better secure myself an alibi. Had a little 2
A.M.
hankering for some hot chocolate. Too bad I'm such a bad cook and set off the smoke alarm. Firemen had to come.” She flicked a leaf off her jacket. “So clearly there was no way I painted all those roses, since I'm on record speaking to the firemen.”

I relaxed my posture, rubbing my arms to keep warm. “That's great! You're off the hook.”

“For now, yeah.”

Still, I knew the investigation wouldn't stop there. Eventually Lorina would run out of roads. And her main one led right back to me.

“But the bastard used my glue outside Town Hall with his stupid message,” Whitney said. “So I'm expecting a criminal callback audition.”

The breeze picked up pace and sent a shiver through me. “What did the message say?”
And I can prove it
, perhaps? Completing the message he never got to leave during our heist?

She whipped her head toward me. “You don't know? I figured your sister interrogated you, too.”

I shook my head. She couldn't have. It's hard to talk to someone when you're giving her the silent treatment.

“He wrote, ‘
If you continue to cover up the truth, we'll cover up your beautiful town.'”

Huh. Different than I'd expected. “What does it mean?” I stretched my dress over my legs. It had felt like it fit perfectly when I left the house, but now it seemed too short, whipping around my thighs whenever the wind howled. Between my soaked shirt clinging to my nonexistent curves after the flood and my peep show in front of Kingston's headlights, I'd had enough public displays of indecency for one school year. I didn't need to add a Perez Hilton–esque underwear shot to my legacy. “You know what he's after, right?”

“The only thing I can think is what he's after isn't what he told me. Because even
I
can't decipher this riddle. Maybe he's been keeping things from me.” We all were, weren't we? An aggressive breeze made the trees dance in the distance. Even nature was in Homecoming spirit tonight.

My teeth chattered in the cold air. “We should probably go in.”

“Yeah, I hope Kingston's here already. He didn't come home after school.” She craned her neck. “But I don't see his truck in the parking lot. Wuss has been avoiding me.”

As we approached the school, a silhouetted figure came into view, leaning against the side of the building. The outline of messy hair made me think of Chess, sending a sharp ache through my chest. Whitney was fun, but she wasn't exactly my ideal date for a dance.

“Is that Chess?” Whitney squinted into the distance.

I wondered if she had gained a new talent for mind reading. Or maybe we were both having hallucinations.

The figure stepped into the illumination of a streetlamp and my breath caught. It was him!

My legs challenged my heart to a race, and my long hair blew away from my face, making my smile the first thing he would see. My insides danced, swaying harder than the trees or any of the students enjoying the music.

I crashed into him so hard, I knocked the wind out of him with an “Oof.” That wasn't all I knocked. He stumbled and we both fell over, crashing into the soft lawn. Our limbs tangled together, everything blurry and spinning, and I wasn't sure if it was the world righting itself or turning upside down.

“Well, hello to you, too,” he said.

I lifted my head, realizing I was on top of him, straddling him. Not the worst position to be in. I pushed my tangled hair out of my face. He wore a smile that was definitely brighter than I remembered.

I bent down and kissed him. It was crazy and passionate and definitely not appropriate for school grounds. We kissed like we were trying to make up for the week without each other, and maybe some extra time for good measure. My hands knotted in his hair and when his arms wrapped around me, I didn't want them to ever let go.

“I guess I'll go in and check out the scene,” Whitney said.

“Wait,” Chess gasped, cutting a kiss short.

I rolled off him and pushed myself into a standing position.

He joined me a second later and slid his arm around me, a much more G-rated form of PDA. “I've already done some recon. Nothing seems out of the ordinary, which is why it's weird. Are you
sure
Kingston said something was happening tonight?”

“You guys are so fucking impatient,” a new voice said from behind.

I craned my neck to see Kingston ascending the steps with Quinn on his arm. Her dress fit her so tightly, her boobs were making a bid for freedom over the top. She always defied the rule that redheads couldn't wear red. Instead, she owned it.

“Alice, guess you were wrong, huh?” Quinn shot me a triumphant smile and pulled Kingston closer to her.

No
, I wanted to say,
you were the one who thought Kingston was asking me to the dance
. “I'd say that's yet to be determined. Right, Kingston?” I tilted my head. “When does the fun start?”

“A magician never reveals his methods.” Kingston wiggled out of Quinn's clutches and flexed his hands. “But you can kiss my hand if you like.” He held it out to us. “Trust me on this.”

“Um, I'd rather not,” Chess said.

“I'm all for not seeing him kiss again for a while.” Whitney jerked her thumb in Chess's direction.

“That could be arranged.” Kingston adjusted the crown on his head. He wasn't in the running for Homecoming King but that didn't stop him. “After all, Chess doesn't go to this school anymore.”

Quinn raised her arm in solidarity, looking at Kingston as she did. “He should be escorted off the grounds!”

I pressed closer to Chess. I'd just gotten him back; I wasn't going to lose him over something so silly.

“Good try, but if he doesn't go here, you don't have the authority to remove him.” Whitney's eyes bore into Kingston's.

Quinn pouted and yanked Kingston away from us. He stumbled for a moment but then blindly followed her into the building.

“I better go play private eye and follow them.” Whitney took a step toward the school. “Take a moment of privacy, will you?” She opened the door, music blasting until it careened shut, sealing out most of the sound. Just a few stray chords seeped through.

I really wanted to use the privacy time for kissing, but I also had questions. “God, Chess, I was so worried. Are you okay?”

“I'm okay. And very, very punished.” He slid his arm out from around me and tilted my body to force me to face him. “Grounded doesn't even cover it. Think Amish. I had to tell my dad everything.” He drew his finger across his throat. “Took a lot of begging and bribery to finally get my cousin to lend me her cell so I could check my email.”

“I figured. Either you'd been cut off or you believed me when I fake broke up with you.”

He laughed. “No, the only thing I believe in is
us
.”

A couple of students dressed in outfits more fit for a nightclub than a school dance giggled all the way up to the door, eyeing us with curiosity. He squeezed my waist. Flutters swept through me.

I fake-pursed my lips. “You're just trying to get me to say the phrase I owe you.”

“The phrase was definitely not
I owe you
. You messed up one word.”

“I owe glue? Because if so, Whitney has some I can lend you.”

He shook his head. “That wasn't the word, but it is an interesting idea. If I glue myself to you, my dad can't take me back.”

Music blasted when one student held the door for his date and friends, making the melodic beat linger. It was some kind of slow song I'd never heard of, but that was no surprise. Sometimes it seemed like the only music I listened to was the kind forced upon me in elevators.

“Will you, won't you, will you, won't you, will you join the dance? Will you, won't you, will you, won't you, won't you join the dance?”