Page 43 of A Scandal in Homeroom
“It’s what I heard.”
“Whoever told you that was lying. There is nothing to find at Thornfield Home. Certainly nothing you would care about.”
“I care about a lot of things,” I offered. “Fine, if you don’t want to talk about it, we can let that go. Why don’t you tell me who is behind the Freshman Bait List?”
“I don’t know!”
Too much protesting, I thought. “You’re lying.”
“Screw you. If I knew, don’t you think I would tell people? My friend’s sisters are on that List.”
“How much do you care about the sisters of your friend?”
“I care about my friend. What hurts her, hurts me. You know that.”
I did. Which is why I could use what I knew to my advantage.
“You should do a little digging,” I urged her. “The List is expanding.”
“What does that mean?”
“I can’t give you all the answers. Some things you have to learn on your own. Now, why don’t you share with me who you obviouslysuspectis behind the List?”
She walked over to where I was still sitting. “What gives you the right to interrogate me like I’m some kind of criminal?”
I stood because I didn’t like her looking down at me. I preferred it when she had to look up. We were closer now, but she didn’t take a step back.
“Because I think you’re more involved in this than you’re admitting, and I think there is something more sinister going on than an embarrassing list of bets.”
“You said it yourself. The stakes are high.”
“They are. But stakes are always relative. If there is something bigger happening and you’re messed up in it, you could be in trouble.”
She smiled then and it was her siren’s call. “Oh, Locke. Are you worried about me?”
“Yes.”
It was an honest answer and I surprised myself by admitting it.
“I don’t want to see you get hurt. I think you’ve been hurt enough already.”
The smile was gone. “I can take care of myself. I have since I was eight years old.”
“Excellent. You’ve proven you’re extremely self-sufficient. Why not take a break and let me help you?”
“I don’t need your help,” she said, clearly exasperated.
“You can tell me, Irene. If you’re in trouble, I have ways of fixing things.”
“I’m not in trouble,” she insisted. “I don’t know who is behind the List. If I thought someone I cared about was actually in trouble, I would call it out.”
“I believe you would,” I allowed.
“Thank you,” she said curtly.
“If you weren’t afraid of that person.”
Her eyelashes fluttered then, and I could see it. Feel it. Her fear.
