Pretty Sly (6 page)

The strategic, year-round plantings were all there— spiky cacti gardens, pale mesquite and yucca trees, and bright hanging bunches of bougainvillea. There was that very specific Prep smell of recent construction and fresh mulch, touched with a light hint of leather and a soupçon of designer perfume.

And the courtyard was the same, too, spilling over with its usual morning bustle of students gossiping and tussling before class. The only thing that was missing was Aidan. When would I see him again?

I glimpsed Kellie and Nikki at their customary spot on the wall. Only now, instead of joining them, I was going to walk on by. Like a new girl. Like an outcast. I already felt the stares. I prayed they didn’t see me.

I swallowed hard and looked up at Tre. He smiled at me in silent support. Nothing to do but keep moving. There was only one way inside the school. Besides, I was going to have to face them sooner or later.

As we passed, there were whispers and even some giggles, too. Try as I might, I couldn’t not hear.

Did you see the news?

The thief is back.

Kellie said they found her fingerprints on everything. . . .

We were almost there. I fixed my eyes on the burbling
courtyard fountain. It reminded me of the background sounds they played at spas to relax you—which I only knew about from hanging around Nikki and Kellie and Cherise. I wished I could drown everything out, including my thundering heart, and focus on that sound. Only now the water was just adding to the cacophony. Another voice accusing me.

The door was in sight. But the chorus continued, the words closing in on us.

Is she suspended?

What did she steal?

Kellie’s dad’s going to sue.

I think it’s awesome. The girl’s got balls.

Tre put a protective hand on my back. I stopped and gave him a small, tight smile. I didn’t need to be guided. “I’m okay,” I said.

On the other side of the door, the cool, air-conditioned hallways of Prep offered little consolation. The scene was the same inside. The too-hushed sound of people stopping what they were doing, the crowds clearing as we advanced.

When I was part of the Glitterati, the same thing used to happen, but then people were moving away out of fear and reverence. People were staring at Kellie, thinking how hot she looked, how envious they were of her latest handbag or boots. Now they were stepping aside out of disgust and judgment.

Focus, Willa.

There were lockers, books, classes to think about— normal high-school things that would take up the hours between now and the rest of the day. I kept my gaze straight ahead. The only way out was through.

The harp rang over the loudspeakers, signaling the start of classes. Tre walked me past the library.

“Want me to see you to homeroom?”

I wished it were that easy. “No, I’ve got an exclusive engagement with Mr. Page. A VIP meeting.” I wanted it to sound like a joke but my voice was too thin, too strained.

Tre grimaced. He had no sugar to coat this pill. “Ouch. All right. I’ll catch you at lunch, then.”

In some ways, at least, I was protected in the administration wing, where there were no sniping students hanging out. Just a blue-carpeted hallway leading to Mr. Page’s office, lined with portraits of all the headmasters past of Valley Prep, silver-haired, suited, and solemn. Mr. Page himself was waiting for me behind his desk, wearing his usual bow tie and a dour expression.

“Have a seat, Willa.”

I set my bags down, sat in one of the heavy antique chairs, and folded my hands over the wooden armrests. I thought of my mom and how she had worked her magic to get me into this school, how much she’d wanted me to get a top-notch education.

“You know why you’re here, don’t you?”

I nodded. No point in playing dumb. “Because of last weekend.”

He linked his hands together in front of him. “Right. We have our disciplinary hearing scheduled for tomorrow and I just wanted to let you know a little bit more about what to expect. It’ll be some board members, the head of student council, and myself. The hearing will require us to ask you some questions about what happened. Similar to a real trial.”

But this wouldn’t be like my court trial. When I went up in front of Judge Prendergast, my mom had stood by me. Now she was nowhere to be found. I needed her.

“And then . . . ?” I rubbed my fingers over the wood grain of the chair, trying to find a pattern.

“And then we’ll decide if you can continue on here at Valley Prep. Do you have any questions for me at this time?”

I shifted forward in my seat. “So what are my chances? I mean, I’ve already been in the news and everything. How will people make a fair decision?”

He frowned. “I don’t know. Nothing like this has ever happened in my twenty years here and I’m not sure the VP community is going to be very understanding. Look, Willa, I know you’re a good student and you’re new here and I want to give you the benefit of the doubt. But I’ll be honest with you—I don’t think the odds are in your favor. We’ll just have to see.”

“Got it,” I said.
Don’t you dare cry. Look straight ahead.

The heavy bookshelves in his office were packed full of old volumes in color-coordinated rows. I felt an ache
seeing them, knowing that they were probably neglected. And I’d probably never read them, either. Not now.

Then a wave of guilt. I’d totally blown this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. My mom would be very disappointed in me. That is, if she ever came back.

Would she ever come back?

“Willa? You still with me?”

Mr. Page paused, pressing his lips together. A lot of kids complained about him and his stiff ways, his rules, his formal dress. I had nothing against the guy. He was just trying to do his job. But he’d given up on me. It was obvious.

I just wanted a chance to prove that I could change. That the Sly Fox stuff, that wasn’t really me—or at least that was just something I did.

“Yes,” I said.

“So I’ll give your mom a call today and fill her in. Any other questions?”

Good luck getting ahold of her.
I shook my head.

He reached across the table to grip my hand. “See you tomorrow, then. Good luck to you, Willa.”

How come, I wondered, when people said, “Good luck to you,” it always sounded so much worse, so much more final, than plain old “good luck”? As though you were really, really going to need that luck.

When I stepped out in the hallway they were waiting for me. Kellie and Nikki. Arms folded across their chests. Mouths curled up in scowls. Like mob heavies
with evenly applied mascara.

Not so long ago, I’d excitedly searched for those familiar faces across the crowded dining hall, or in the middle of Neiman Marcus, because I thought wherever they were was where I belonged. Now dread seized me again, adding to an already-churning swirl of emotions.

My jaws clamped together. Could this day get any worse?

“Hey, Willa,” Kellie practically sang, her well-pampered voice reverberating through the corridor. “Welcome back. How was prison? Make any new friends?”

It was her faux-sweet tone, the one she used to threaten me and Cherise when we dared to call her out on the horrible rumors she started about Mary, Alicia, and Sierra. The one that barely disguised the acid evil underneath.

“I hope so. Because you don’t have any here,” Nikki spat—as always, there to back up Kellie’s every last word.

I kept walking. Kellie’s eyes narrowed as she kept pace with me, whipping her shiny brown hair over her shoulder. “Real friends don’t break into each other’s houses. You know that, right?”

And then I felt the tiniest bit bad, because I heard the insecurity in her voice. I couldn’t read it, though. Did she really think we were friends? Or was she just surprised that anyone thought she deserved to be robbed? Was it possible that she was that oblivious? If so, that
was sad. But it didn’t change how I felt about her.

“That’s kind of basic, isn’t it?” Nikki said.

I will not look at them.

It was like a scene in a storybook, because as soon as I made eye contact with the two-headed monster with matching Chanel handbags, I was as good as dead. They would see my weakness—any hint of the slightest bit of fear—and exploit it. But I was tempted, so tempted.

“Guess her mom never told her that,” Kellie said.

“Clearly,” Nikki said.

“Just leave my mom out of this,” I blurted, unable to help myself. So much for ignoring them.

But they kept on with their despicable banter. “Yeah, well, maybe it’s different when you’re from the ghetto,” Kellie said.

“Ghetto is as ghetto does.”

Anger boiled up inside me now. I’d stolen from both of them, I reminded myself. They could make me feel a lot of things but they would never make me feel sorry about that. I spun around, fuming. “And once a bitch, always a bitch.”

“Better to be a bitch than a busted loser,” Kellie said. She glared at me, her diamonds glinting.

Busted.
That’s what she called those other girls. I felt like punching her pretty little face.

“Forget it.” Cherise cut in and stood between us. She seemed to come out of nowhere but she must have seen us in the hallway. She must have been standing nearby.
“Don’t be stupid, you guys. Do you know how small you look right now? She’s been punished. It’s not your job.”

Cherise wouldn’t meet my eyes but I could tell by her posture—her arms folded across her chest, her back straight and erect—that she was acknowledging me, as a human, with feelings. Maybe she wasn’t ready to forgive me, but she wasn’t interested in hurting me or attacking my dignity.

Unlike Kellie and Nikki, who were surely filling up the ValleyBuzz blog with mean-spirited posts, unflattering photos, and rude comments. If not at this very minute, then later, certainly.

In a rare moment of concession, Kellie stepped back and tossed her hair to the other shoulder, leaving a trail of her sickeningly sweet perfume in the air. “Yeah, well, I need to go to history. This piece of trash isn’t worth our time, anyway.”

Just then I noticed that others had stopped to stare at our interaction, with gaping mouths and narrowed eyes. Great. We were a sideshow now.

Freed, I hurried away down the hallway to class. So I’d made some bad decisions and I was paying for them. I knew that. But the worst part wasn’t Nikki’s and Kellie’s taunting. The worst part was knowing that I’d lost my best friend and there was nothing I could do about it. Seeing how Cherise had resisted falling into their game only made me miss her more. The girl was golden. And I . . . well, I no longer really knew who I was. Sly Fox.
Skank. Loser. Criminal. There was a whole new set of names to choose from, and none of them covered the missing-mother part.

At lunch, I found a far-flung corner of the dining hall, an empty booth in the back. I promised myself I wouldn’t let the Glitterati force me to skip a meal. I wasn’t going to let them have that power. Lunch was too important. But I didn’t exactly want to be a spectacle, either. The compromise was to sit where I could see everyone who would be watching me. Preemptive ogling.

I picked at my salad Niçoise with seared tuna, the day’s special. Of all of Prep’s luxuries, the gourmet cooking was one that would never cease to amaze me. Actually, there were many things I still loved about the school itself—if only I could’ve started the year over fresh.

So far I’d survived French and geometry. Comp was a little tougher, because Cherise was there. I’d sat four seats away and tried not to look over in her direction the whole time, wondering if she was as nervous as I was.

Then I’d spent my free period in the computer lab. I was supposed to be researching a civics paper, but I couldn’t stop myself from checking the Greyhound site. There was a five o’clock bus that was leaving that afternoon. It was a twelve-hour ride with a transfer in L.A., so that would get me to Santa Barbara by the morning. I just needed to get to the station. If, that is, I
decided to go. I was still wavering.

“Hey, Willa.” I looked up. It was Mary, her black hair pulled back in a ponytail. Behind her was Sierra.

“Hey, guys,” I said.

“How are you doing?” Sierra asked, looking down at me with a serious expression, her brown eyes lit with sympathy.

“I’ve been better,” I admitted. I felt the hard shell I’d been cultivating all day starting to crack with their small act of kindness. Tears surged in my eyes.

Don’t go there.

I took a sip of water and tried to pull myself together. If I started talking, I might tell them about my mom, my house, the money, how I’d lost everything. I might totally fall apart right there in the middle of the dining hall. No, I had to keep it together.

“Don’t let them tear you down,” Sierra said. “Those spoiled girls aren’t worth it.”

“It’s not just them,” I said. “It’s everyone.”

“Not everyone. We’re rooting for you. You know that, right?” Mary said. “We’ll never forget what you did.”

“Those gifts made us feel like someone actually cared about us, and that meant a lot when—well, you know, when coming to school was pretty much a nightmare,” Sierra said. “And you put those
perras
in their place. We don’t have to take their crap anymore.”

“Yeah?” I looked up at her, hope creeping in.

“You did something. That was more than someone
else would’ve done,” she said.

“Well, we’re here if you need anything.” Mary shifted her tray. She was still hovering over the table.

I smiled appreciatively. “Thanks, guys.”

I could have asked them to sit with me, but I didn’t want to hurt their reputation. They’d already been linked to me and the crimes, as the recipients of my scheme. People had already questioned whether they were the ones doing the stealing—at least that was Kellie’s and Nikki’s theory at first, before I got caught. If anyone still thought they were involved, it would be terrible.

Besides, we weren’t friends. Not really. They were people I talked to in gym class or the girls’ room, but Sierra didn’t exactly like me. It would be weird now, after everything that happened, for us to start hanging out. Like I bought their affection or something. Which had never been my intention.