Between These Lines (A Young Adult Novel) (17 page)

I
had a bad feeling about this. It wasn’t often we were called out of class. Most
assemblies were pre-scheduled events that allowed us at least a few days to
prepare for being bored. I always got away with popping my buds in and zoning
out, as long as I remembered to take a brochure from the guest speaker at the
door. But I didn’t have my tunes to fall back on today, and something told me I
wouldn’t be able to recap by reading about this afterwards.

My
eyes ran along the curving rows of seats facing the stage and finally settled
on Evie, leaving my heart to race the instant I spotted her. She was a few rows
over between Tara and another girl, playing with the strap of the purse she
held in her lap, pretending to be bored. But I knew better. Evie was just as
nervous about tonight as I was, perhaps even more so. I was certain this
assembly was making her edgy.

Her
hands looked smooth from here, her thumb rubbed against the stitching that wove
in and out of the leather fastening she played with. I could almost feel the
warmth of them on my skin, the way her palm flattened against my back and my
chest last night, working their way up the inside of my arm toward my
collarbone. Normally, I cringed at another person’s touch. My skin literally
spazzed out when prodding fingers met along the rigid pink wound the accident
had left me with—but not Evie’s. Her touch was the only exception. It
left a warm, soothing sensation along my skin that no doctor could replicate.
Even watching her delicate fingers from across the auditorium made my skin
tingle.

Tara’s
head perked up and looked in my direction. Then the look on her face changed. I
followed her eyes sweep across the room and settle somewhere behind my row,
then, rather quickly, her eyes faced forward again, as if she had just been
caught looking at something she wasn’t supposed to.

Slowly,
I turned to see what had caught her attention, and my eyes met ice.
Shane
.
I shifted back in the stiff seat and tried to focus on Headmaster Whitley, who
was still taking his good old time explaining why we were all here.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Evie

“What do
you keep looking at?” I whispered.

Tara’s
interest was on the other side of the auditorium, and I didn’t want to lift my
head and look over. I was having enough trouble focusing as it was today.

I
wished I could take back my brainy idea of ignoring Chase. I couldn’t read the
look in his brown eyes this morning before homeroom. They were deep, hollow,
hurt, yet full of everything neither of us could dare talk about. Getting
through today would be hard. Tonight would be even harder, and I wondered if
I’d made a mistake choosing to steer clear of drawing attention to the two of
us. Perhaps the only way to get through this
was
to lean on one another
– no matter who saw.

Tara’s
head snapped forward. “I’m bored.” She shifted and wriggled her body until her
feet disappeared beneath her on the seat. It didn’t look very comfortable, but,
hey, that was Tara. I looked at her sideways, wondering what on earth could be
boring about this? We had gotten out of class and spur-of-the-moment assemblies
like this never happened.

“I
think he’s about to speak,” I whispered back, but Headmaster Whitley was only
adjusting the microphone. I straightened up in my seat. These were the seats I
hated most. Like the ones in the Cineplex downtown, they folded, but were so
low to the ground that once you were parked, you could barely see over the
person in front of you. Our auditorium had stadium seating, but it didn’t help
much. It was just another proud adjustment to the original school that the
board members had spent everyone’s tuition on.

With
my chin raised, I could see the podium between the shoulders of two kids in
front of us, but my eyes wouldn’t stay centered on the stage. They veered to
the left and the right, scanning, searching . . . looking for the one person I
swore I was going to avoid.

We
were seated with our classes. It wasn’t like lunch where we had the luxury to
sit anywhere we wanted, so even broken up it was easy to classify who belonged
with which clique; who were friends, and who were enemies. The lines between us
were startling clear.

They
zigzagged between the seats. They threaded and overlapped between the rows,
skipping then picking up again.

I
looked at Tara, her expression bored, and watched as she picked tiny traces of
lint off her skirt. She had nothing in common with the girl on her left, just
as the girl had nothing in common with her. They didn’t speak. In fact, Tara’s
arm rested on the inner most portion of the arm rest shared between them,
purposely leaning towards me so she wouldn’t,
couldn’t,
possibly come
into contact with the girl.

I
looked away. I couldn’t watch how everyone seemed to hate each other; seemed
pitted against each other. It was too depressing. I followed the track on the
ceiling that carried the lights for the stage, letting my eye trace along the
chrome piping until it focused on a particularly soft light. I watched as that
light expanded and stretched, not only toward the stage, but down to the seats
below, and realized it hovered directly over Chase’s seat like a spotlight. He
turned his head and looked directly at me, as if knowing I had found
him—a cautious smile waiting beneath the surface, curious to see if I’d
cave. What a stupid idea it was to not talk today. He was the only thing making
me happy lately. To top it all off, he shared a piece of himself so significant
last night, and here I was stifling everything, and because of what?

That
was simple.

I
was scared—for the both of us, and especially uncertain about the line
I’d crossed. It was a line that
should
be crossed, not only to get a
grade, but because it was the right one. In everyone else’s eyes, though, it
was a traitorous move. A move that hurled me away from Shane and the others; a
move that propelled me to the other side; one I should be wary of making, of
sticking to, and of believing in.

I
looked across the auditorium at Chase and I knew crossing that line was a risk
worth taking.

The
smile I had been holding in gleamed across my face; for him,
because of him.
I didn’t care who saw me and didn’t care who wondered. I had nothing to
hide anymore because Chase deserved that smile, and I had every right to give
it if I wanted. There
was
a new line now, but it didn’t divide. It
connected me to the amazing, sweet-hearted boy sitting across the room. It was
a line that was wide and strong, and no one was going to sever it.

An
awful squeak trilled through the air. Headmaster Whitley stood at the foot of
the stage, microphone finally in hand. “Boys and girls, I want to thank you for
your cooperation, and I apologize to the faculty for disrupting your classes.”

The
teachers stood along the wall. They seemed just as clueless as the rest of us.

“I
want to bring to your attention that we are making every attempt to create a safe
environment for everyone here at our school.”

Everyone
shifted in their seats, accompanied by muffled voices.
Safe? What was he
talking about?

“I’ve
called this assembly so that a brief search may be conducted of the lockers and
classrooms. You will remain here, using this time as a study hall, until the
search has been completed.”

Unified
concern grew from face to face around the room, like everyone was doing the
wave at a game. A few rows in front of me, a hand shot up into the air,
breaking the stunned silence.

“Excuse
me, but why are the lockers being searched?”

Headmaster
Whitley cleared his throat. “I’m not at liberty to go into detail, but this
establishment is allowed to conduct random searches at any given time
throughout the school year.”

Another
hand sliced the air. “So, our lockers are being ransacked right now?”

“I
wouldn’t exactly use that terminology, but yes, as I speak, a quick search is
underway.”

“Dude,
that’s not right.” The low voice of a boy behind me came to my ears.

“My
mother works for the Superintendent,” another voice surfaced. “She can find out
what’s going on.”

“Like
a fire drill, tests need to be conducted.” Headmaster Whitley spoke above the
sea of voices in an effort to deter alarm. “This is like any other. I assure
you, there is absolutely nothing to be concerned about here. This is simply a
routine.”

I
looked at Tara and she looked back at me. I leaned in toward her. “Should we be
worried about this?” I asked.

“Why?
What would
you
possibly have to hide?” She snapped her gum and resumed
her look of boredom.

I
had a lot to hide. Only it wasn’t in my locker. Did that make me safe? I looked
over at Chase who appeared just as confused and concerned as I felt. I hadn’t
noticed earlier, but just past his seat was a perfect view of Shane. Only Shane
wasn’t looking at me. His eyes were aimed several seats below him, looking at
Chase.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chase

I made it
to my locker in record time after we dismissed from the auditorium, grabbed my
belongings and was ready to bolt, when a hand grabbed the metal door from the
other side.

“Nothing
like a surprise inspection to keep life interesting,” Shane’s eyes were as
chilly as his voice.

“I
have nothing to hide,” I breathed, “unlike some people.” Knowing of Shane’s
attempt to get me in trouble ate at me. Worse yet, he was right here taunting
me with his presence while I knew he’d planted that bag near my desk yesterday.
That was a given. It was an intolerable action against me, but somehow, I was
beginning to feel the power behind being aware of it. I was already beginning
to savor knowing what Shane didn’t. Sure, tonight held the promise of danger,
just how Shane liked things, but he was completely unaware that his own uncle
was in on the last part of the deal.

I
flung the locker door shut, spun around and met his stare, letting him know I
didn’t plan on backing down.

“You
got Jake’s note?” Shane asked, waiting to see who would blink first.

“Yeah,
I got it.”

One
Mississippi. Two Mississippi. Three Mississippi
.

Blink.

I
stood my ground as he looked away. The muscle in his cheek twitched as he
inspected the hallway, making sure no one lingered around for a show. He shoved
his hands into his pockets then motioned for me to walk with him. We headed
down the hall, past the foyer and into the next corridor, the one where Evie’s
locker stood. So much for making it out early, Shane had stalled me long enough
to make sure the hallway was clear of stragglers.

He
walked directly up to Evie’s locker, pulled a lumpy white envelope from his
pocket, then, in what seemed like slow motion, he slipped it between one of the
horizontal openings. I heard it fall behind the metal with a soft thud.

“Just
a little insurance,” he said with an oily smile, and placed his hands back in
his pockets.

“Mess
tonight up and I’ll bring both of you down.”

I
stared at the closed locker, and resisted the urge to rip the hinges off the
door.

“If
you handle the delivery tonight as planned, then you won’t need to know what’s
in that envelope. Although I’m pretty sure you can figure it out. You’re
smarter than you look.” Shane took a step forward until he was right in my
face. “If our plan doesn’t follow through, well . . . let’s just say it’ll look
like you have a little problem. So don’t mess with me, Mitman.”

I
watched Shane turn and walk away. My ears filled with the echo of paper
dropping against metal and I realized I’d just figured out who was responsible
for inviting me to the party.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Evie

“Why on
earth did Jake change it to out here?” Tara asked for the thousandth time. Her
complaining started on the highway and escalated from there. Now, as we veered
toward the ramp that would lead us to the lake, it was clear her questions
weren’t going to stop any time soon. To make matters worse, as we drove along
another seemingly endless road, I could see my attempt at ignoring her wasn’t
working and I had no choice but to explain it all over again.

“Jake’s
mom is sick. They cancelled their trip.” There. Done. I hoped.

Jake’s
parents owned a home out on Billings Lake: a gorgeous waterfront property with
a private boat dock and majestic views of the small islands dotting the water.
The headlights of

Tara’s
car flashed across tall shoulder-to-shoulder hemlocks lining the road, and up
ahead we finally spied the turn off for Pachaug State Forest.

“We’re
almost there.” I pointed, using the signage as a landmark. We turned onto a
little road marked private property, and followed the drive up a slight slope,
until we reached the house.