Chapter 13

The flashlight drops to my side, and I swallow—once, twice—until my voice comes back. "Did you do this?" I ask Jacey, the words hoarse.

"What? Are you crazy? You heard someone out here too!"

"Yeah, well, there's no one here now."

"Savannah, listen to me. I saw someone—probably whoever did this. But they ran off."

I don't know what to do. She could be lying. But if she's not, I might be able to catch this person. "Which way did they run?"

"That way," she says, pointing toward the dark woods. "Let's go find Mr. Davis." She reaches for my hand, but I wrench my arm back.

"I'm going after them."

"Savannah," she hisses. "They could be dangerous."

"That's why I can't let them get away." She tries to grab my arm again, but I bat her off. Training the light in the direction she pointed, I start to sprint. The trees span out ahead of me, all claws. I let my light bounce from forest floor to eye level, trying not to trip.

I make it through the first line of trees and continue, listening for movement. But the forest is an endless void before me. I'm going to be lost out here all night. I strain my ears, but the only sound is twigs snapping beneath my feet. Just when I'm about to give up, my light lands on a person crouched in the grass.

Noah Crawford stands, the moonlight and the dim yellow circle from my flashlight illuminating his face. He glances around like a trapped animal.

I step closer, my light flicking down to the object at his feet, half buried in the grass.

A can of spray paint.

I gape at him, horror trickling from my scalp down through my body.

"Savannah?" His eyes are like two wide-open goals.

Because he's caught. White-freaking-handed.

I turn around, crunching leaves as I try to find my way out of the trees. "Savannah!" Noah calls after me. I ignore him, gaining speed until my foot snags on a root and I go flying.

The world is a jumble of black and branches. A sharp twig slams my face. My head smacks against the ground. I groan, trying to get to my feet.

Footsteps pound behind me. I scramble, but Noah's on me too fast. "Here," he says, huffing. "Let me—"

"Get off me!" I yell, grabbing for my flashlight and pointing it into his eyes.

He draws back, blinking. When I lower the light, a stunned look crosses his face. "What's going on?" he asks, still hovering, but watching me like I might try to lunge at him.

I might. I can't believe he'd threaten us. That he'd threaten Piper.

"Stop acting like you don't know about the writing on our tent."

His green eyes are slivers in the moonlight as he squints down at me.

"You have the paint, Noah. If I hadn't come after you, you'd have stashed it in the forest and no one would be the wiser." I finally push onto my feet, brushing leaves off of me. I tug a twig out of my hair, rubbing two fingers over the place my head hit the earth. Just a bump.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he says. "I came because I heard a commotion and wanted to check on you two. When I got to your tent, someone was hiding behind it. Whoever it was saw me and ran off into the woods, so I followed them."

"Right. And you just happened to have stumbled upon the can."

Noah glances down, like he's just remembering. "Yeah. The person dropped it."

"You're unbelievable." I spin back toward the tent, and he follows me.

"Why aren't you listening?" he asks, his long legs moving twice as fast as mine.

I reach the tent, were Jacey is standing with her flashlight like a helpless child.

"Wait," Noah says, his footsteps finally slowing as he takes in the painted words. " That's what you think I did?"

I grab Jacey by the arm to tug her into the tent, but she struggles, pulling away. "What happened?" she asks, racing toward Noah.

"I don't know." He moves closer to the tent, shining his flashlight over the message.

"Noah, I swear," I say, my breath ragged, "you need to stay away from me. Stay away from our tent. If you come anywhere near us, I'll tell Mr. Davis about this."

"I didn't write it," he says. "What does that even mean, Leave it alone ?"

"He was listening," I tell Jacey, motioning for her to come back inside. "He heard what we said about Piper. And this is his way of trying to get us to stop investigating."

Jacey turns to look at Noah. After a moment, she laughs. "That's ridiculous."

"I found him trying to hide the paint can."

"That's not what you saw," Noah says, rubbing a hand over his face.

Jacey's smile falls. "You had the paint?"

"I caught him with it in the woods." I turn back to Noah. "You wrote a threat to Piper, too, didn't you? The writing—it matches. But why did you do it?"

"Savannah," he whisper-yells, fingers clawing through his hair, "I'm trying to tell you I don't know what you're talking about, but you're not listening."

"I've heard enough. We've both heard enough. Haven't we, Jacey?"

She doesn't answer, only stands there, brown eyes glinting.

"Come on, Jace," Noah pleads. "You can't honestly think I would threaten anyone."

For a moment, she looks up at him with an expression that starts as a question but morphs into stunned anguish. Then she strides toward me, ducking through the tent opening.

I exhale, throwing Noah one last warning look before following her inside.

I zip the door shut, turning to find Jacey sitting in the corner, knees pulled up to her chest. "He didn't do this," she says, but she isn't looking at me.

"The evidence says otherwise."

"I shouldn't have just left him like that. He wouldn't do this. I know him— we know him, Savannah."

I wish I could agree with her. But if I'm any indication, you never really know people the way you think you do.

At this thought, a horrible sensation grabs hold of me. It's like the tent walls have blown down, leaving me exposed to the elements. Like there's no ground beneath me. I'm just floating out here on my own.

I reach for my sleeping bag to try to cover myself, but my mind slips back to my bedroom.

To that day.

I'd locked my bedroom door behind me, tugged on my headphones, turned on music, and buried myself beneath the covers. But even in my own private space, an exposed feeling wrapped around me. Everyone would see through this. Through me.

Piper had been called to Mr. Davis's office. I'd heard her name crackle over the loudspeaker and watched her walk over there, confusion etched on her forehead. Then I left her. Took the car and drove home without her. I panicked. Like a criminal.

I knew that as soon as she told Mr. Davis what happened, he'd believe she had nothing to do with changing the grades. Even if he doubted her story, Piper could just tell my parents the truth. They'd never let their precious gifted one go down for it.

My eyes were wide open in the suffocating midday darkness of my room. The music pulsed, each note unnerving. I kept envisioning the disappointed looks on my parents' faces when they learned the truth. That not only was I going to be expelled, but I'd also nearly taken Piper down with me.

Excuses tumbled around in my head, but they didn't land. Just spun into oblivion.

A thump resounded over the music, and I jolted upright. More thumping. I peeled the headphones away from one ear. Someone was knocking on the door. I willed the noise to stop, for whoever it was to go away. When they didn't, I turned off the music and pried myself out of bed.

I cracked the door open enough to spot a few strands of frizzy blond hair before it swung open all the way, knocking me backward.

Piper burst into the room, her pink complexion flushed a deep crimson. "Thanks for stranding me at school!" she snarled. "I had to walk all the way here!"

"I was going to come back for you," I lied. "Why are you home early?"

"Could ask you the same thing, but I'll settle for letting you know that I'm suspended."

"What are you talking about?" I aimed for the apathetic tone I always used when Piper got too passionate about something. Then I collapsed back onto the bed and browsed through my phone.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about." She leaned over me, snatching my phone away.

"Hey!" I took a deep breath. Let it out slowly. "You can't be suspended. Tell me what happened." My stomach rioted as I patted the spot on the bed beside me.

Piper's eyes narrowed, and her lips pinched. "You're really going to pretend like you didn't have anything to do with the chemistry grades?"

I gave her my best incredulous look. "What do you mean?"

"Mr. Davis says there's an issue with last week's test scores." Little drops of spittle bubbled in the corners of her mouth, like she was a rabid animal. "For a handful of kids, the numbers in the grading program don't match the tests. When he asked Lucy Dawes if she knew anything about it, she started crying. She said the TA offered to bump her grade for a hundred bucks."

My clueless expression faltered. Something flickered in Piper's seething glare.

I'd expected her to be angry. But as she stood over me, her face wilting and her head dropping, I recognized that flicker. It was worse than the way she'd looked at age seven, when she'd found our guinea pig lying still at the bottom of the cage.

It was gutting. Despite our differences, I was her sister—her big sister. She'd never anticipated this level of betrayal.

Even I had never known how far I could fall.

"I triple-checked those scores after I input them," Piper said. "And I never spoke to Lucy Dawes or anyone else about doctoring numbers! Why would they say the TA did that, Savannah?"

Because I'd instructed them to. None of my "clients" had been willing to simply hand over the money. They'd insisted on knowing how I was planning to access the grades, so I'd told them I wasn't; the TA was handling everything.

"I'm sorry," I said, grabbing my head in both hands. "I never thought Mr. Davis would notice or check the scores. I didn't change anything drastically, just enough to bump them from a minus to a plus or whatever." Piper's gaze remained fixed on the carpet. "I was trying to get the money for the tournaments!"

"Tournament, singular. Your tournament. You think I would've agreed to split the money with you if I'd known you were going to earn it illegally? This was your problem, and you decided to make it mine." She leaned against my desk chair like she couldn't hold herself upright. "I couldn't tell Mr. Davis or Principal Winters I'd given you access to the tests, that I'd made the mistake of letting my idiot sister get hold of Mr. Davis's password. I told you he trusted me with those grades! I can't believe you did this to me."

"I never thought I'd get caught," I said, knowing it was the king of moronic excuses. "I thought I was helping both of us. You were so stressed, and I needed to make some quick cash. I'm really sorry, Piper."

Her eyes lifted slowly from the floor to meet mine. "So, you'll tell Mr. Davis I had nothing to do with this?"

"Piper, I…" The glimmer of hope that had drifted into her expression a moment before evaporated. Her jaw tensed. "If I do that, I'll lose my shot at MLC. You'll still get into college with one black mark on your record. You have next year. For me, this is it. If I get suspended or"—I swallowed—"expelled…it's over."

Her already-large blue eyes widened further. Then they shut, a drop escaping through her lashes to trickle down her red cheek.

Regret pressed on my chest like a bad infection, and I got up, stepping toward her. "Piper, I—"

Her thin frame began to shake, and she wiped away the tear. "You really think I'm going to take the fall for this?" Her voice screeched like rubber against pavement. She started pacing around my room, mumbling and huffing something about betrayal and dances and having nothing left. I suddenly wished she'd just cry. At least then I could try to comfort her.

Instead, she pushed past me toward the door, stopping to growl, "I'm telling Mom and Dad."

A rush of dread swept through me. "I just wanted to make sure I'd get into MLC," I pleaded. "I need that scholarship, Piper." But with a biting edge, I added, "Your future isn't the only one that matters."

She flinched like I'd slapped her. And then, with more coolness than she'd ever displayed in her life, she said, "Up until a half hour ago, my future was the only one that existed. You can't get into college with your grades, Savannah. Your boyfriend is a loser and a cheater. Even if you get that soccer scholarship, you'll screw it up. The way you screw everything up."

She slammed the door in my face. I stood, stunned, as every poster on my wall, every paper on my desk fluttered and flapped. Something floated off the desk, dropping to the floor. I leaned over to pick up the leaflet with the sky-blue font that read MOUNT LIBERTY COLLEGE.

I crumpled it up and tossed it into the wastebasket, my body flooded with molten lava. My arms, my legs, my mouth—everything was fluid, out of my control. I grabbed my phone, and my fingers felt detached from my body as I texted her.

Go ahead and tell Mom and Dad. We're done, Piper. I don't care about you. No one does. As far as I'm concerned, you don't exist.

That was the last thing I told my sister before she ended up in a coma. Those are the words that have been stabbing at me constantly for the past month.

The reason I couldn't let anyone see Piper's phone.

The reason I was certain I was to blame for everything.

Now, I'm not sure what to think. All I know is that I may've just caught one of Piper's best friends—a kid I've known most of my life—threatening me. And that Piper was threatened the same way before she fell from the Point.

"He didn't do it," Jacey whispers, but I'm not even sure she's talking to me anymore.

I turn over, attempting to fluff the sweatshirt I'm using as a pillow. "Just be careful."