Creeping with the Enemy (7 page)

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Authors: Kimberly Reid

BOOK: Creeping with the Enemy
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I didn't get the ribbons back up on the board a second too soon because Bethanie comes out of the bathroom, looking like the girl I know, jumps on her bed, and starts sipping the chai, probably cool by now. If this was Tasha's room, I'd join her on the bed, but Bethanie and I aren't that tight, so I pull the chair from her desk a little closer and take a seat.
“Isn't Cole everything I told you he was? A real gentleman despite how rude you were to him.”
“I thought I was there to check him out, and that's what I did.”
“So?”
“So ... I think you're falling too fast. You don't know enough about him.”
“And you do after spending a single dinner with him?”
“That's all
you've
spent with him. I was there when you met him, remember? And don't tell me about all your hours on the phone. It's almost like texting. Someone can be a whole different person when you aren't face-to-face. For that matter, people can hide a lot even when you are.”
“You mean me.”
“I mean Cole.” Well yeah, I meant her.
Bethanie is quiet for a second, sipping her chai to stall while she thinks of how to say whatever she's about to say. I don't try to fill the silence. Lana says you learn the most from a perp not from questioning him but from letting him just speak his mind. Bethanie isn't a perp, but I have to treat her like one if I want to get some information out of her.
“Before Marco, I'm guessing you didn't really have a lot of boyfriends.”
Bethanie is being generous in calling Marco my boyfriend, and we both know it. She is definitely trying to tread lightly.
“I haven't had a boyfriend because I'm not into serious,” I say. “I figured there are too many fine men out there to waste my time on one.”
“Men?”
“You know what I mean.” How could she? I don't even know what I mean; I'm just trying to sound like I know what the hell I'm talking about.
“So you must know a lot about boys.”
At first I think she's being sarcastic seeing how she's always trying to give me advice on Marco, but I realize she's serious. Did she actually believe my story about never having one boyfriend because I'd rather play around? She might be a blue ribbon winner of something, but she'd never be a great detective. Or even a mediocre one.
“I know enough,” I say, going along with it.
“I wish I did. I've never even been on a date until last night.”
Okay, I was blowing up my knowledge about boys a little, but at least I've been on a few dates, even if they were lame setups by Tasha that didn't lead to second dates. Once I get past how honest a girl has to be to admit that to someone after pretending she's a pro on the subject, I wonder how Bethanie could be about to turn seventeen and never have had a date. Between her looks, the car, and her money, surely she could have attracted some guy, even if for the wrong reasons. I try to act like I'm not as surprised as I am, but she reads my mind.
“It's because of my dad. He's always been super-protective of me, especially when it comes to boys.”
“All fathers are like that,” I say, not that I would know since I never met my father. Lana was almost sixteen when she got pregnant; he was seventeen and didn't want anything to do with Lana or being a dad. Because they only got together one time, he even suggested he might not be the father.
My
father. Conveniently for him, just a few days after Lana confirmed she was pregnant, his military parents—who she suspects were never told about me—had their posts reassigned. Lana says it was convenient for her, too, because he was no one she wanted to raise a kid with. We never talk about him; it's like he never existed. That means I only have Tasha and Michelle's fathers to go on, and in Michelle's case, her father's a preacher and crazy strict. That still didn't keep her having her first time with Donnell Down the Street, Aurora Ave.'s resident thug. So even without firsthand experience, I know fathers get crazy about their daughters, and somehow the daughters still manage to hook up if they really want to.
“I'm pretty sure nobody's father is like mine when it comes to protecting me. And now with the money, he's just over-the-top crazy about it.”
“I'm guessing he doesn't know about last night, then.”
“He thinks I was hanging out with you, which is true.”
“So you only asked me to double date so I could be your alibi?”
“It's not like I committed a crime,” Bethanie says. “Even if my dad might think I did.”
“He has to know you want to date. I mean, you're almost an adult.”
“Yeah, almost an adult and afraid to go on my first date without you and Marco there,” she says, looking like I'd feel after sharing something like that—completely exposed. It's something you could only tell a real friend.
“If it helps, you were a lot better at dating than I am, and I have some experience.”
It was true. She knew just what to say, managed to make her guy feel smart and interesting while being smart and interesting herself. Instead of focusing on the lies Cole was telling, I should have been taking notes.
“Thanks—it does help. I really like Cole.”
I stand up and walk over to the corkboard with its oddly unexpected mementos and missing the ones you'd expect to see, and pretend to look at it as though I'm seeing it for the first time.
“You don't really want me to tell you what I think about Cole, do you?” I ask. “You never did.”
“No. Especially now because I have a feeling I'm not going to like it.”
Chapter 7
I
did keep my opinion to myself, though I'm even more worried about Bethanie than ever. No wonder she's falling for the guy. Cole would be hard not to fall for even if he weren't good-looking and completely charming. Work that magic on a girl who has never been on a date, and it's all over for her. Not unless I can come up with a way to make her see that's all the more reason to slow down. Which is also what I wish Lana would do at this very minute. She's giving me a ride to school and while I appreciate not having to take the bus, I'd also like to hold on to my breakfast. Lana drives like she's still a uniform cop on her way to a bank robbery. It's especially bad this morning since she's running late for an early meeting with her boss. I figure a conversation might remind her that her only child is in the car, and she'll take it a little slower.
“Lana, have you ever had to tell a friend bad news about a guy?”
“Every woman has to at some point, if she's any kind of real friend.”
“So you're saying I should do it?”
“If you care about her. I told my best friend in high school that her boyfriend had come on to me. I gave her the exact words he used. I can't remember them now, but he made it clear what he was about.”
“And she broke up with him?” I ask, noticing Lana does seem to be taking it easier on the turns.
“No, she broke up with me. Being honest doesn't mean she'll take the news the way you hope.”
“She believed him over you, even though y'all were girls?”
“One day you'll fall in love and learn just how stupid it can make you, at least at first. Sometimes the love is worth being momentarily stupid; sometimes you figure out it wasn't at all.”
“When I told Michelle her boyfriend was a loser, she didn't take it very well.”
“But you turned out to be right.”
“Yeah, but everyone on the street knew Donnell was a loser, everyone except Michelle. I didn't feel bad at all about busting him.”
“You don't have any evidence to show your friend about whoever the latest loser is?”
“All circumstantial. Barely even that—more like a hunch.”
“You might want more than a hunch before you go messing with love.”
“I suppose. But what if my hunch tells me it's urgent and that I don't have time to get better proof?”
“Believe it or not, I remember what it's like to be your age. Everything was urgent, and now I can't even remember what half the fuss was about. Unless she's in some kind of danger, you can wait.”
Well, I don't think Bethanie is in danger of anything but a shrinking bank account, so I suppose I should take Lana's advice.
“It sucks that your friend dumped you because you told the truth.”
“It broke my heart. But, fortunately, she figured out that the guy wasn't worth it. A few years later, I was a bridesmaid in her wedding to a guy who was.”
I'm so glad Lana's story has a happy ending, and I tell her so before I get out of the car. Bethanie and I aren't BFFs yet, but she's the closest friend I have at Langdon, and in a place where I couldn't fit in even if I felt like trying, an ally is a necessity. Since I started Langdon, I've been pretty much a pariah with everyone—the headmistress, teachers, the popular kids—especially the popular kids. I would have transferred to North High the minute Lana gave me the chance if it wasn't for Bethanie and Marco.
Between every class, I hang out at Bethanie's locker because I've decided she can handle hearing what I have to say. She's only known Cole a week, definitely not enough time to be in love with him, let alone reach the point of stupid over him. But now it's fifth period and I still haven't seen her. I try her cell, and she doesn't answer.
“Miss Evans.”
Oh no. I've caught the attention of Headmistress Smythe, which is a lot like catching a bad case of the flu—it takes forever to shake and makes you miserable until you do.
“I've seen you here at Miss Larsen's locker every period since first bell. I take it that means you know nothing of her whereabouts.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean she didn't come to school today and her parents didn't call to excuse her. Repeated calls to her home have gone unanswered.”
“I haven't seen her all day, either.”
“Bethanie seems like a well-adjusted girl. I know that even the best students can be led astray by certain influences.”
I don't have to ask her if the certain influence she's referring to is me.
“If I hear from Bethanie, I'll ask her to check in at the front office. Now I'd better get to Western Civ.”
On my way to class, I send Bethanie a text asking her what's up. She responds that I should meet her outside the coffeehouse after school—she has something to tell me.
 
Bethanie pulls up in front of the coffeehouse and tells me to get in. “I don't want to risk anyone from school seeing me,” she says, like she's on some undercover mission.
“You mean because you skipped?”
“You noticed?”
“So did Smythe. If you're going to skip, at least know how to do it. Either fake sick to your mom so she can let them know you'll be out, or you should've called the office pretending to be your mom. I'm pretty sure Smythe called your house.”
“So what if she did?”
“You've made it your mission to get on Smythe's good side, especially now that her Queen Suck-Up has been kicked out of school. I thought your plan was to take over that spot in the Langdon hierarchy.”
“I don't care about Smythe or Langdon Prep anymore,” Bethanie says, parking the car on a quiet side street a few blocks from the coffeehouse.
“So what happened between Friday and today, because that was your big plan three days ago.”
“Love is what happened,” she says.
I guess I was wrong about her not having time to get stupid over that guy. I stay quiet for a second, thinking how to handle this. What I want to say is
Have you completely lost your mind?
But that never works when Lana says it to me, and only pisses me off.
“Wow, that was kind of quick.”
“We spent the day together.”
“Doing ...”
“Not what you think. Cole is a complete gentleman,” she says, reaching behind my seat to pull out a bag from the floor. “He bought me these chocolates. Want one?”
“I always want chocolate,” I say, taking a truffle from the box even if it is from a stalker. Yum, a stalker with great taste in expensive chocolate.
“It wasn't even planned. I was parking my car this morning in my usual spot and he showed up.”
Bethanie has yet to come clean about the lie she used to get into Langdon—that she's broke and needed one of the three scholarships they gave to three broke kids at the beginning of the school year. Marco and I were the other two, and we actually are broke. Bethanie wanted in to Langdon so badly she was willing to lie her way in since they normally don't admit students after ninth grade. She claims she's telling Smythe the truth soon and repaying the scholarship money, but first she wants to make sure she's in Smythe's good graces. Lying on the scholarship application is probably a serious violation of the Langdon Prep honor code. It would kind of suck if she's made all this effort and ends up expelled. I keep telling her she has the kind of money that makes people overlook honor codes and admission rules, but Bethanie says one scam is enough. Until she becomes Smythe's favorite student without using bribes, Bethanie parks a quarter mile from school so no one sees that brand-new BMW she's driving.
“How does he know where you park?”
“I don't know,” Bethanie says, then goes quiet for a second, probably thinking it was a little strange that he knew where she parked. But she doesn't think about it long enough for it to register that the guy must be casing her. “However he knew, it was a good thing.”
“Why?”
“There was some guy already parked in my spot, leaning against his car. Even though he was pushing a brand-new Jag, he looked like someone straight off my old block back home—nobody I wanted to mess with, right?”
“Where exactly would that be?”
She ignores my question.
“For a second, I actually thought I knew him—he was kind of familiar. I parked behind him and got out of my car. Dude just stares at me, like he was waiting for me. Then he actually says, ‘I've been waiting for you' and starts coming toward me.”
“What? You've got two guys stalking you now?”
She ignores that comment, too.
“Cole pulled up at just that moment.”
“See what I mean? He
is
stalking you.”
“He was just coming to Langdon to try to catch me on my way into school.”
“But the street you park on is not on the way to Langdon. You'd have to live around here just to know it even exists.”
“Would you just let me finish my story?”
“All right,” I say, helping myself to another piece of chocolate.
“So Cole rolls down his window and tells me to get in. Then he gives that guy a look that sends him running back to his car.”
“Cole doesn't strike me as being so tough he could send a guy like you described running to his car.”
“Okay, maybe not
running,
but he did back off. Then Cole talked me into hanging out with him. He didn't like the looks of that guy and thought maybe he should watch out for me the rest of the day. First we had breakfast at that little café on First Street—”
“Hello? Do you think your itinerary is what we should be discussing here?”
“What—you mean that guy?”
“Yeah, that guy. Who is he, and why would he be waiting for you? And going back to the very beginning, what about Cole knowing where you went to school?”
“You were there when he explained that, Chanti.”
“Even if I bought that story, which I don't, what about today and him being in the right place at the right time at your out-of-the-way parking spot? For the second time in less than two weeks, I might add.”
Bethanie looks at me like she's confused.
“Come on, Bethanie—the bodega robbery? Not to be profiling, but what's a guy like Cole doing at that bodega?”
“You mean a gallant guy? A brave guy?”
“I mean a
white
guy. Not like an Eminem-wannabe-looking-for-street-cred white guy, either. One who looks like he came out of a Tommy Hilfiger ad, or your side of town.”
“Well, I was at the bodega and I
am
from my side of town.”
“We both know that's only because your dad picked the right six numbers. If you were being straight with me, you'd admit you're more comfortable in the Heights than in Cherry Creek. Plus, you were giving me a ride home that day. You had a reason to be over there.”
“Cole could've had a reason to be there, too. Maybe he was passing through and needed something to eat.”
“People like Cole don't pass through the Heights, they avoid it. That bodega—my whole neighborhood—might as well have a sign at the entrance that says
RICH-LOOKING WHITE GUYS ENTER AT YOUR OWN RISK.
But he was up in there like he owned the place
.
I don't know, maybe he really is that fierce, but he doesn't strike me as stupid.”
“So what are you saying?”
“I'm saying that it was weird how the BOGO tamale line just seemed to disappear after he came in, even though it's usually out the door until five o'clock.”
“You think he somehow made all the people disappear so he wouldn't have to wait in line for a free tamale? I'm pretty sure he can afford to buy one. And those tamales aren't
that
great.”
She's wrong about those tamales, which are like heaven wrapped in pork and masa. But I want to stay on track because I'm about to say what I really think and I'm hoping she won't blow me off the way Lana's friend did.
“No, I'm saying maybe he staged that robbery and was working with the junkie. The
alleged
junkie. Not only that, I'd never seen that cashier before and haven't seen him since,” I say, though I'm thinking that guy won't be such a mystery once I get MJ to talk. “Maybe he had someone outside the store sending the crowd away or—”
“And got the store owners to go along with the whole thing?”
“I haven't figured that part out, but he must have somehow.”

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