Page 37 of Web of Lies
“That’s unnecessary, Piper. I don’t need this.” I wave a hand at them, sadness growing in their eyes.
Piper grabs my arm cautiously and pulls me aside, as Seger and Zepp let the other students pass by. “I can grab you some food,” Piper says in a small voice, pulling my attention to her bright blue eyes. Concern flashes through them at the sight of me, and damn it, I want pancakes. I lick my lips, scratching a non-existent itch on my neck.
The thought of someone else handling my food and bringing it to me flares the ants on my skin to life. What has she touched this morning? Did she wash her damn hands?
“It’s really no problem,” she says again, grabbing my shoulder.
My entire body stiffens at the contact, but I nod. Right on cue, my stomach rumbles so loud, Piper raises a brow. Sadness engulfs me at the thought of the pancakes I’ll miss out on if this is how it’s going to go from now on.
“That would be really nice of you,” I say softly. She nods, giving me a warm smile. “Pancakes, please?” I add with hope.
“Oh, smothered pancakes, of course! Sprinkles, syrup and lots of whipped cream for you!” There’s a skip in her step as she steps into the dining hall, momentarily stopping to send an evil glare in the twin’s direction.
Hadley slips in front of the twins with a smarmy smile, eyeing me with victory. She runs a finger down Zepp’s chest in small circles. He inhales sharply, eyes sinking to mine, and then back to her. He frowns, his body turning rigid. He never reacts to her advancing hands running up and down his chest. She brushes the back of her body against Seger, who is seething in anger by now. But they take it. They take her touches and whispers like they didn’t tell her to fuck off a few days ago.
Piper scowls at Hadley who purposefully rams into her, nearly knocking our food trays over. She holds the two trays firmly in her grasp, saving them, making her way towards me. As soon as she sees me, she smiles brightly.
“Your pancakes!” She says with so much glee no one should possess.
She sits beside me, handing me my food. I stare down at the pancakes, my heart thudding in my chest. They’re exactly how I eat them: smothered in syrup, whipped cream dripping over the edges, and rainbow sprinkles finishing the top.
“They painted my door this morning,” I say in a small voice, picking up my fork.
Since Piper is the only one who has elected to talk to me and sit beside me, I have to get something out of her. She’s as involved with the school as she could be. So, she has to know something, anything to clue me on why the sudden change.
Her fork drops onto her tray. Her gaze snapping towards mine, panic brewing behind her blue eyes. “Oh, Great Gatsby, painted? How?” her voice raises an octave.
I stare forward, not bothering to look at her. “Gray with a red X.” Every muscle jumps as Piper’s food ends up on the ground with a loud crash. She curses, the only way she knows how. Muttering incoherent, weird, mixed-up words, while running her fingers through her long-curled strands of hair.
Her eyes lock with mine and she shakes her head. “Not again,” she whispers, looking toward Zepp and Seger. “Oh, Kaycee, I’m so sorry. I don’t know what you did to them. But they’ve—they’ve marked you,” she whispers the last part like the boys will hear her.
I chew on her words, eating my pancakes while she panics. “So, this whole marked thing…. is it real?” I ask, setting my tray beside me.
“Real?” She whisper-shrieks. “Oh, sherbet covered strawberries, of course, it’s real, Kaycee!” She grips the roots of her hair pulling at her strands. “And-and you have to watch your back! They’ll end you.” A tear slips down her cheeks, moisture pooling in her eyes. Her eyebrows drop and her shoulders shake with an emotion I’ve rarely seen on her. “Just like her—just like—” She shoves her face into her hands, muffling her screams of pure agony.
“I’m sorry, this happened before?” I’m not sure my heart can take the stab of pain slicing through it. I know exactly who Piper is referring to. Magnolia—the reason I’m here. But I am here to seek answers, not relive the terror she endured. I had already done that through her emails.
Piper freezes, staring at me, batting her eyelashes rapidly. “Last year, but it hadn’t happened for many years. Christ on a cracker!” She paces again, muttering words only she understands.
“How long ago, Piper?”
“Last year they marked a girl and years before that.” Her head shakes back and forth.
“And the other kids? Did they die?” My breaths catch in my chest, threatening to never exist again.
“No,” she breathes. “No, never any deaths, but last year—she—she—” Piper straightens her back, shaking whatever thoughts she was about to say away. “It’s water under the bridge, Kaycee. You shouldn’t worry about her. You should worry about yourself.” She takes a step forward, offering me a tight smile. “Because you’re going to need it for the rest of the school year. Unless-unless you leave,” she whispers the last part with more sadness.
“What’s the worst that could happen?” I ask, tilting my head, knowing the instant I said it, it was the stupidest thing possible.
The worst that could happen. Death. They could stab me, shoot me, drown me, or throw me away like I’m nothing. My only problem is I have no idea who I’m up against. She blames Seger and Zepp. She said it was at their insistence. But who on this campus can I trust? Myself—that’s it. I can get answers out of who I need to, but other than that, I’m on my own.
Piper frowns at my words, picks up our trays, and disposes of them. “For Pete’s sake, Kaycee, don’t ask stupid questions.” She grabs my arm, dragging me beside her. Seems to be my forte—me and stupid questions? Yeah, we go hand in hand, besties for life.
While lost in my head, Piper manages to pull me into the main building. It houses most of the classrooms on its four floors. Red lockers line the walls which kind of confuses me. Why lockers? We each have our rooms with desks and storage. Eh, regardless, kids here seem to use them between classes, but I don’t anymore. My books are mostly at my apartment or in my backpack, and I only put the books I’ll need for the day inside my locker.
“Hey, Piper, who built this school?” I ask softly, trying to dodge the hate-filled stares from the other students. Their glares barrel into me like a bullet penetrating my soul, like I had wronged every one of them.
Her hand tenses around my forearm, still dragging me through the hallway. She shoos a few people with the flick of her wrist, a scowl forming on her beautiful face. “Dante Van Buren built that god-forsaken house and then the surrounding maze. He was paranoid, a freak of nature. After his death, his only remaining daughter donated the land and her inheritance, building this school, and every other building on the property. " Her eyes glaze over, flying her brain to a whole new place.
