Chapter 23

Chapter Twenty-Three

BEFORE

TOM

It's been a week, and apparently "no arrests have been made in the murder of Brandi Healey."

Chief Driscoll came back to the high school a second time and called several students back down to the principal's office, but I didn't make the cut this time. They're still looking for Brandi's mysterious boyfriend, without much luck.

Most of the people they call down are Brandi's close friends. The only person I know well on the list is Slug. I can't even imagine why the police want to talk to him about Brandi. He barely knew her.

Not only has the chief not questioned me again, but he asked me personally if I would escort his daughter home from school every day until he catches the monster who killed Brandi. I still have to tutor, but Daisy waits around—she doesn't seem to mind. She sits in the school library, quietly reading one of her thick paperbacks. Whenever she is concentrating on something, she sticks her tongue out slightly. It's adorable.

Walking Daisy home every day is something I can look forward to. Although today I'm looking forward to something else. In our biology lab today we're dissecting a fetal pig. I have been waiting for this particular dissection lab for months, and it will only be slightly ruined by the fact that Alison is my lab partner.

I didn't know it was possible, but Alison has been even colder to me since Brandi's body was found. She can barely even look at me anymore, and when she does, there is venom in her eyes. This is our first biology lab since it all happened, and I'm half expecting to find out she's asked the teacher to switch partners. That would be okay with me. More than okay, even. But no such luck. When I get to the lab, Alison is already in her seat.

"Hi, Alison," I say in my most friendly voice.

She stares at me, as if astonished I would have the audacity to say hello to her. "Let's get this over with," she grumbles.

I already read the textbook the night before to prepare for the lab, so when the teacher sets down the tray with the tiny pig lying on it, its eyes squeezed shut, its facial features nearly perfectly formed, I know exactly what to do. But I'm trying to make nice with Alison, so I slide the scalpel in her direction.

"You can do the honors," I say.

"No, thanks." She pushes it back to me. "You can go ahead and do it."

"You sure?"

"Absolutely." And then she mumbles under her breath, "You always do."

I'm not going to say it doesn't bother me that Alison is sitting next to me, silently judging me while I'm doing nothing more than the work required to get an A in biology lab. She should feel lucky I'm her lab partner—I'm carrying her. She doesn't seem interested in the dissections at all. She doesn't seem to even want to look when I unravel the fetal pig's intestines. If it weren't for me, she wouldn't even pass the class.

And yes, I enjoy these labs. So what? Is there anything so wrong about that?

The hour passes by quickly, and near the end, Mrs. Shipley comes by to check our work. She sees the organs laid out carefully and flashes me an approving look. "Good job, Tom, Alison."

"Tom did all the work," Alison speaks up. "I mostly just sat here."

Mrs. Shipley doesn't seem to know what to make of this admission. "Did he?"

"Yes," she confirms. "He enjoys it so much, you see. I wouldn't want to take that away from him."

Mrs. Shipley's forehead wrinkles. "Well, you should both try to share the work equally. It's only fair."

With those words of wisdom, she wanders off to the next table. Alison is looking down at her nails, which are clipped very short. She's been making snide comments about my expertise in lab the whole time we've been partners, and I'm getting sick of it.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" I snap at her.

She looks up at me, her eyelashes fluttering. "There's nothing wrong with me ."

The way she says it makes my whole body go cold. She's never liked me, but somehow it's gotten to a whole other level recently. Especially in the last week.

But I can't let Alison bother me. The school day is almost over, and then I'll get to see Daisy and walk her home. Alison is not going to take that away from me.

She at least helps me get cleaned up, and after we wipe down our workstation, the bell rings. Dismissal. I can finally get out of here. I won't have to deal with Alison for a whole other week, until our next lab.

I grab my backpack from under the table, ready to go meet Daisy by our lockers. But before I can get going, a hand reaches out to grab my arm. When I turn around, Alison is behind me. She's got her straight brown hair tucked behind her ears, and she's staring at me with her muddy eyes through her thick glasses.

"Tom," she says, "we need to talk. Now ."