Pretty Little Devils (16 page)

Matty stepped between them. He grabbed Breona by the arm and squeezed—hard. “You touch her and I swear to God, I'll kill you,” he growled before letting her go.

He took Hazel by the hand. “Let's get the hell away from here.”

“Don't you turn your back on me!” Breona shrieked. “I'll tell her everything! Does she know about us, Matty? Huh? Does she?”

“What is she talking about?” Hazel asked.

“Nothing. Someone should just put her out of her misery,” Matty muttered.

He strode out the back entrance of the gym, dragging Hazel with him. When he got outside, he put his hands on his knees and sucked in big, deep breaths.

“God.” He shook his head. “This is unreal.”

“Matty, what happened in there?” Hazel demanded, her body vibrating with worry. “Why was Breona calling you her date?”

Matty stared at her for a moment, then began. “I didn't think I should tell you. I didn't want you to worry.”

“Worry about what?” Hazel urged.

“When I first got here. Breona and I. We kind of fooled around,” Matty confessed.

“What?”
Hazel asked, incredulous.

“It was way before you and I hooked up,” Matty clarified, “before school even started. It wasn't a big thing. It lasted, like, a week. I told Breona it was over, but she just wouldn't let go. She started calling my house at all hours, hanging up. I couldn't exactly prove it was her, but who else would it be?”

Hazel studied Matty. She peered deep into his eyes, searching for even the hint of a lie. He gazed back—nothing but honesty.

His story
, Hazel thought.
It sounds so much like Sylvia's. Breona being psycho, unable to let go.

It couldn't just be a coincidence. Could it?

Matty loosened his tie. “Let's get out of here for a while,” he suggested. “Get some air. Maybe go for a drive?”

“Fine by me,” Hazel agreed.

At that moment, Sylvia, Carolyn, and Megan burst out of the gym.

“Hazel!” Sylvia called. “Are you okay?”

“I'm fine,” Hazel snapped, whirling around. “Not now, okay?”

“Okay.” Sylvia stopped short. She held up her cell. “Just…keep in touch.” She shot a glance at Matty. Obviously, she didn't trust him.

After that display, Hazel couldn't blame her.

She nodded, said her cell was in her evening bag, and followed Matty to his car. He opened the door for her and helped her pull in her skirt.

He climbed in. Before starting the car, he took Hazel's hand. “I'm sorry you had to go through that,” he said.

“It's okay,” she replied, giving his hand a squeeze.

“I wanted tonight to be perfect,” he said.

“It's fine—let's just go.” Hazel gave him a quick smile and pecked his cheek.

They pulled out of the parking lot and Hazel caught a glimpse of the moon through the trees. The dance and Breona began to fade as they drove over Brookhaven's two-lane roads into a dark landscape of stables and fields. Hazel smoothed her satiny dress and admired Matty's profile as he concentrated on the road.

They ventured up a bit into the hills, and fog curled around the windows. Matty slowed, taking a left toward San Pasqual, then slowed as the mist hung around the car like a white blanket.

“Damn,” he muttered. “We'd better stop. It's getting hard to see.”

She nodded. “It'll probably let up in a little bit.”

Matty put the car in neutral and set the brake. He reached into the backseat and pulled out a six-pack of hard lemonade. “I wanted to get some champagne,” he told her.

“This is fine,” she assured him.

He opened hers and handed it to her. They clicked bottles. “Here's to the weirdest homecoming ever.”

Hazel laughed. “Here's to the weirdest cheerleader ever.”

“Seriously,” Matty said. He took a sip and rested the bottle in the cup holder. “What is the deal with Brookhaven? Is there like a hellmouth under school or something?”

“You have no idea.” Hazel laughed, shaking her head. Then she turned serious. “You know, I owe everything to the PLDs, but sometimes all the drama is too much to take.”

“You cold?” Matty asked softly. “The heat's as high as it will go.”

Before she could answer, he pushed back his seat and unbuckled his seat belt, taking off his jacket.

“Oh no, I'm fine,” Hazel murmured as he put the jacket over her shoulders.

With a gentle sigh, he kissed her. She pulled him closer and kissed back. She felt her cheeks flush with warmth as he wrapped his hands around her waist. She ran her fingers through his hair.

Then her cell phone went off.

“No,” Matty groaned.

She answered it.

“Where are you?” Sylvia demanded.

“Matty and I went for a drive,” Hazel said defensively. “It's foggy. We had to stop.”

“Well, come back. There's news. Clancy totally saw Breona acting trashed, but she was out the door before he could do anything. He's probably going to suspend her for good this time.”

“I can't come back now.” She cleared her throat. “I'm busy.” Matty had moved back to his own seat, and he was drinking his lemonade.

“Oh God, Hazel. Please don't do it in his car. That's something a sleaze like Breona would do. Besides, after that incident over the summer, don't you think you should be more careful?”

She glanced over at Matty. The memory of her mistake flashed through her brain. Then an image of Matty's face, filled with rage. She tried to make out his expression but couldn't see his face. He was cloaked in shadow.

Hazel frowned. “Okay, going now.”

She hung up.

“What happened?” Matty asked, with mock sorrow. “Was your permission to leave with me revoked?”

“Breona split,” Hazel said changing the subject. “We can go back now. Everything's fine.”

“Breona. That psychotic bitch.” His voice was leaden. “A raging hangover will be too good for her.” He settled his bottle between his legs and stared out at the fog.

Hazel reached over and caught up his hand in hers. “Let's forget about Breona for now.”

She let him kiss her again. Ripples fanned from her stomach to the ends of her hair. She felt dizzy and thrilled.

Stop
, a voice inside her urged.

“You smell so good,” he whispered.

Stop
, the voice insisted.

Then Sylvia's words, echoing in her head:
After that incident over the summer, don't you think you should be more careful?

“Matty, I…we can't do it here,” she said bluntly. She shut her eyes tightly against the flood of mortification. “I mean…”

He started to laugh.

“What?” she asked, but she started laughing too.

“You're right,” he told her. “Tonight was a total train wreck. This is not how I wanted it all to go.”

“Thank you,” she breathed.

“We'll slow down. But we don't leave until the fog clears,” he suggested.

She nodded. “Agreed.”

 

Long before the fog cleared, Sylvia called again to say they were leaving the dance. Matty drove Hazel straight home, promising to call her tomorrow.

Hazel stumbled through the doorway. It was late. She felt so ungodly tired.

Thankfully, her mom hadn't stayed up to ask her all sorts of inane questions about the dance.

She padded upstairs and had closed the door to her room when her cell buzzed. Hazel grabbed it and connected the call.

“It's me,” Ellen said. “Sorry to call so late.”

“That's okay, I'm still up,” Hazel replied.

“I figured you would be.” Ellen sighed. “So, was the dance fun?”

“Not exactly,” Hazel assured her. “I left early and went for a drive with Matty.”

“Did you talk to Brandon while you were at the dance?”

“No,” Hazel said gently. “He didn't really hang with us.”

“What did he wear?”

“His tux was black. He had a maroon cummerbund.”

“Flowers?”

“He was there alone,” Hazel said.

Ellen was quiet for a moment. “Did he get king?”

“We left before the announcement. I'm sorry.”

“No, it's okay.” Ellen sounded wistful. “Listen. I'm calling for another reason. Those weird messages—”

“What about them?” Hazel asked.

“Well, I got all that ‘seven days' crap tonight,” Ellen said, slightly annoyed. “But that was obviously you guys.”

“Yeah,” Hazel admitted. “Sylvia's dumb idea. Sorry, El.”

“Don't worry about it,” Ellen said. “It wasn't
those
messages that bothered me.”

“Was there something else?” Hazel ventured.

“I got one of those texts, from a blocked sender. It was kind of vicious.”

“What did it say?” Hazel asked.

“‘I'm ready now,'” Ellen read from her cell's screen. “‘Tonight someone dies. Guess who?'”

“Oh my God. Breona really is out of control,” Hazel said.

“Maybe.” Ellen paused. “What if it's not Breona?”

“Who else could it be?” Hazel reasoned. “She was acting like a total nutcase tonight.”

Ellen let out a frustrated sigh. “You're right. It probably is her. Just be careful, Hazel. I know Breona is mad at you. We don't know what she's capable of.”

“I hear you,” Hazel told her. “And don't worry. I'm safe and sound—locked up tight.”

“Good. I'll see you Monday, then.”

“Um, Ellen,” Hazel ventured, feeling sorry for her friend, “we're only juniors. Next year, homecoming will be different.”

“God, I hope so,” Ellen said. “I should go. My dad's knocking.”

“Okay. 'Night.”

“Bon soir.”

Hazel hung up. She plugged her cell phone into the charger, and it buzzed again. A text message had come in.

YRSECRETPAL2PURPLEHAZE: TAG! UR DEAD!

It was raining on Monday morning, suiting Hazel's mood. The creepy texts and e-mails had continued all weekend. And she hadn't heard from Matty all day Saturday or Sunday.

She couldn't figure out why he hadn't called her, especially after he'd said he would.

Now, hurrying to school, she was cold and frazzled; to make matters worse, she had worn a long skirt and the hem was soaked from getting into and out of her car. Like most Southern Californians, she had forgotten an umbrella, and she was getting drenched.

Students in hoodies carrying books above their heads hurried from their cars through the gates of Brookhaven High. Security guards flanked vice principal Clancy, who was standing on a platform as he spoke through a bullhorn.

“First period today will be a mandatory assembly. File quickly and quietly into the media center auditorium.”

“What's up?” Megan asked as she found Hazel in the hallway.

“Not much,” Hazel answered. “How are you?”

“Fine, considering the craziness that was this weekend.” Megan yawned. “Want to find the others before assembly?”

Hazel nodded. Together they caught up with Sylvia, Carolyn, and Ellen.

The five friends took the balcony. People were hooting and throwing wadded-up pieces of paper. Sylvia sat in the middle and gathered them toward her.

“All right, ladies, what is the deal with this assembly?” she asked. “Did you see how freaked Clancy looked when he was out front?”

Ellen nodded. “Seriously. It was like he'd seen a ghost.”

“I just hope this is not about the kids who showed up drunk at the dance,” Sylvia said, rolling her eyes. “If I have to sit through a lecture aimed at trash like Breona, I am going to scream.”

The microphone on the stage squealed loudly. Principal Kim came out from behind the curtain. With his dark blue suit and combed-over hair, he looked uncannily like a game show host.

He was flanked by his enforcer, Mr. Clancy, and a dour-looking woman with no makeup. Her light gray raincoat washed her out even further, Hazel noted.

“Take your seats,” Principal Kim ordered above the din. Clancy took a step forward, as if he could intimidate everyone into obeying.

It took a few minutes for everyone to settle down. Then Mr. Kim scanned the crowd.

“I have some very difficult news to give you all this morning. This may come as a shock to many of you, since we know she had many friends at BHS.” Mr. Kim looked down for a moment, gathering himself.

“Oh my God! This is it!” Megan whispered excitedly, tugging at Hazel's sleeve. “Kim is going to tell us that Breona's expelled for good!”

Principal Kim cleared his throat. “I'm sorry to have to tell you this, but one of your classmates, Breona Wu, passed away over the weekend.”

There were gasps, shrieks. Someone started sobbing. Hazel turned to the other PLDs in utter shock. They stared back.

“Drunk driving?” Carolyn asked.

Sylvia nodded. “No doubt. What an idiot.”

“This is Detective Charlotte Fullerton from the San Diego Police Department,” Principal Kim continued, gesturing to the woman in the gray raincoat. “I want you to listen closely to everything she has to say.”

Hazel sat forward. So did the others.

“Hello,” Detective Fullerton said. “I realize that that is a great shock. We of the department extend our sympathies to the entire student body.” She paused, then leaned closer to the microphone. “We are looking for information that might help us in our investigation. We're specifically interested in talking to anyone who saw Breona after she left the dance. There will be a reward for any information that leads to arrests.”

“Oh my God,” Sylvia said slowly. “Arrests…That means they're looking for suspects. Which means Breona was
killed
.”

Hazel felt numb. A girl her age—someone she knew—had been murdered.

 

When the assembly ended, everyone went to their second-period classes, but no one did any work. The death of Breona Wu was all anyone talked about. Rumors were flying. Hazel felt like she couldn't escape people's stares.

After all, she was a PLD. The PLDs hated Breona Wu.

And everyone—
everyone
knew it.

At lunch, Hazel bought some ramen and a milk. Her stomach had been churning all day. The bland noodles were about all she could handle.

Hazel pocketed her account card, and Lakshmi pounced.

“Hazel! I heard some police officers talking about Breona in the office,” she whispered urgently.

“Oh?” Hazel glanced over at the PLD table. They were watching her.

She gave them a weak smile and returned her attention to Lakshmi.

“The police,” she continued. “They said Breona was
ripped to shreds
.”

“What?” Hazel asked.

“At first they thought it was a couple of mountain lions. But they're doing all those tests….” Lakshmi waved her hand excitedly. “Forensics stuff. It was a
person
.”

Hazel couldn't make sense of what Lakshmi was saying. “What was a person…?”

“A person ripped Breona to shreds. It took them hours to make a positive ID.”

“Oh my God,” Hazel said.

“Yes.” Lakshmi's eyes glittered. “It's terrible. Tell
them
I found out for you.”

Hazel had no idea what to say. She bobbed her head and headed for the PLD table.

“What did she want?” Sylvia demanded. “You look like you're going to throw up.”

Hazel told them everything.

“Ripped to shreds?” Sylvia said contemptuously. “Where did she hear this? From Mommy?” She leaned sideways, peering over at Lakshmi. “It sounds ridiculous to me.”

“She said there are police investigators all over the office,” Hazel explained.

“No doubt. First a horse. Then a cheerleader. Next it'll be a human being,” Megan drawled.

Ellen gasped. “Megan! Please! Someone is dead.”

Sylvia gave Lakshmi a little wave. She looked like she'd die from happiness.

“And Mrs. Sharma just happened to hear them talking about a highly confidential police investigation?” Sylvia asked. “No way. Lakshmi's bluffing. She's just trying to be the center of attention.”

The others nodded vigorously.

“I heard it was hit-and-run, just like we thought,” Megan said. “You can have suspects in a hit-and-run. It's a form of murder, just an accidental one.”

“Well, bad things happen to bad people,” Sylvia said mildly. She glanced down at Hazel's tray. “Your ramen looks good. I'm going to get some too.”

Hazel watched her walk to the serving line. She looked down at the plastic foam cup brimming with noodles and pushed it away.

“She could have had mine,” she said to the others. “I can't eat.” She noticed the untouched food around the table. “I don't know how she can.”

“Well.” Carolyn picked up her fork and moved some pasta around her plate. “She does really hate Breona.”

“Past tense,” Megan murmured. “She hated Breona. Although I guess you can still hate someone if she's dead.”

“Ever since the assembly, people have been staring at us,” Ellen said softly. “And not in the usual way. I'll bet you anything they're saying we did it.”

“God, that's sick,” Hazel said. “I don't know how can anyone could think
that
.”

“I do,” Megan said, her voice very low. She glanced over at Carolyn.

“I know what you're thinking, and don't even say it,” Carolyn snapped.

Hazel and Ellen both tensed. “What?” Hazel asked.

“Megan, don't,” Carolyn warned.

“PLDs don't keep secrets, Carolyn, remember?” Megan turned to Hazel. “It's just that…we all split up. Sylvia said she'd meet us at her house later, and then she went off with Josh. I went home and changed.”

“So did I,” Carolyn said.

“Then we met up and drove to her house. But we had to wait forever for her to show,” Megan concluded.

“
So?
She was with Josh,” Hazel said.

“So…she
wasn't
with us.” Megan raised her brows. “How do we know where she really was?”

“Oh my God, you are not even going there!” Hazel cried. “You're saying that
Sylvia
—”

“I'm saying we all know how much Sylvia hated Breona.”

“Shh, here she comes,” Ellen whispered.

“There,” Sylvia said, putting down her ramen, sitting down, and picking up a plastic fork. She twirled some noodles around the fork and popped them into her mouth. “Greasy, but tasty.”

The others exchanged glances. Ellen picked at her cuticle. And Hazel sat in a daze.

 

The rest of the school day was surreal. Kids were taken out of class to be questioned by the police. Some returned. Others didn't. Rumors flew, including one that Breona had faked her own death so she could leave town and start over, afraid to show her face again after having so thoroughly humiliated herself at the homecoming dance.

As chance would have it, Megan, Carolyn, and Sylvia all had sitting jobs immediately after school. Everyone air-kissed in the parking lot, promising to be extra careful.

Hazel and Ellen walked together toward their cars. Ellen sifted through her bag, looking for her keys. She swore, then rummaged some more. She came up empty and stopped dead in her tracks

“What is it?” Hazel asked.

“I'm sorry. It's just—I am so entirely freaked,” Ellen confessed. “You know what I realized?” Ellen looked at Hazel with wide eyes. “If Breona is dead, that means she wasn't the one leaving all those messages all weekend.”

“You're right. So who's pranking us?”

“Hazel, Breona has been murdered and we've been getting tons of threatening messages. I don't think this is just a prank.”

“We don't know if Breona was murdered,” Hazel said more calmly than she would have thought. “All we know is that she died.”

“But Lakshmi said—”

“Lakshmi wants to get status by telling us things.” Hazel cut Ellen off.

“You have a point.” Ellen picked at her cuticle again. It was bloody and raw. “Um, you want to hang out together? I don't really want to be alone, you know?”

“Yeah.” Hazel put an arm around her friend. “I know.”

Ellen hugged her. Then her body went rigid. “Oh God, Hazel. Look.”

Hazel turned and followed Ellen's gaze.

A black-and-white San Diego Police Department squad car was parked just outside the entrance gates, its red lights swirling.

Mr. Clancy was standing off to the side with his arms crossed. An officer was beside him, talking to a student.

Hazel looked closer. Dark curly hair, the letterman's jacket—it was Matty!

A second officer got out of the driver's seat. He told Matty to get in the car.

Matty shook his head. He looked red-faced and very angry.

“It's not my problem!” she heard him yell. The officer grabbed Matty by the arm and stuffed him into the back of the police car.

“Why are they taking him?” Ellen asked. “Hazel, why would the police want to talk to Matty?”

 

Ellen's father wasn't due home until after seven, so they went to her house. Hazel called her mother and said she would be studying late.

Ellen turned on the gas logs in the fireplace, and they sat for a long time—sipping cocoa, not talking much, not studying at all.