Chapter 9 Jessica
JESSICA
Runaway by Bon Jovi
“It is with heavy hearts that we come together today as a school to say goodbye to our beloved classmate,” Principal Matthews says from the podium at the front of the auditorium.
He’s gotten rid of his ridiculous bow tie today, instead opting for a simple black tie. “Nicole was a shining star here at Sunnyvale—cheer squad member, excellent student, prom queen candidate.”
“They’re acting like she died in a tragic accident,” Trish snarks from beside me. “Why the fuck are we not talking about the murderer on the loose?”
She’s right. It is fucking weird. Where’s the news crews, the panic, the fear permeating the air of the town.
“You think it’s the same one who killed Courtney?” I ask.
Trish and I haven’t talked a lot since we hooked up, but the thought of being around Stacey and her crowd of cronies while they all give bullshit soap opera worthy performances of fake grief makes me feel sick. I’ve dealt with enough fake bullshit for a lifetime.
“Dude, I don’t know,” she continues to whisper in my ear as the principal continues to drone on. Students around us sob and hug each other. “Nothing like this happens in Sunnyvale. Like, never. So, hard to believe it’s a coincidence, right?”
The truth is that it is too big of a coincidence.
Towns don’t go from safe and sound to full of murderers overnight.
And then realization hits me. Unease twists in my chest as I stare down at Stacey sitting below, her shimmering black hair perfectly styled, her baby pink dress tightly hugging her curves.
“They were both prom queen candidates, right?” I ask Trish.
She doesn’t answer. She doesn’t need to. We know that they both were. But could someone really be out here killing off potential prom queens?
Stacey turns her head, her emerald eyes clashing with my own. She doesn’t look sad, not like everyone else here. She looks murderous.
“Something’s off about her,” Trish whispers in my ear when she follows my gaze. “She and her brother are… too close. You know what I mean? They’re bad news. I told you.”
Stacey and Sam are close. Closer than siblings usually are, even for twins. But it’s not like they’re fucking each other on the corpses of their dead classmates, right?
“You’re right,” I nod to acknowledge Trish but never let my eyes leave Stacey’s. Sam has his arm slung over her shoulder and is wrapping her silky raven hair around his finger. “Something is very off with those two.”
***
“Jessica!” someone calls from behind me as I make my way down the hall. Students keep moving on either side of me, backpacks and bags knocking into me as I turn to look. “Jessica, wait up!”
Lacey is running down the hallway after me.
People don’t seem to push and shove her, like they do me.
They move out of her way and allow her to shimmy down the hallway in her heels.
The beauty of being blonde I guess. Her blonde hair is teased and poofed up in the back to create volume, and she’s wearing a teal and purple dress that’s tight on the top but with a flowing skirt that ends mid thigh.
She has huge hoops in her ears that sway with every step.
“Thanks for waiting for me, girl,” she says as she catches up to me. “These heels are hard to run in.” She nods down at her pumps which look so pretty and polished next to my worn down Chucks.
“Sure,” I tell her as we head down the hall towards the cafeteria.
My classes were extra shitty this morning.
I figured they’d give us a break since we’re second semester seniors, most of us legal adults who are about to go out into the world in a matter of weeks, plus a girl just fucking died and shit—but no, fucking teachers still expected us to do math and give a shit about Charles Dickens. What kind of garbage is that?
“Hey, so with us being down three people on prom court,” Lacey begins.
Down three people? Why is no one saying what this is — murder. Someone’s out here murdering teenagers and we’re all acting like everything is fine.
“We realized we needed a few more, and the student council just voted.” Lacey is speaking quicker and quicker, her pitch getting higher and higher with every word. “And you’re in!”
She shrieks at the end and hugs me. She’s squealing and jumping down in her clanking pumps while I sit shocked and stunned.
“Me?” I ask her, completely dumbfounded.
“Yes, you, silly!” she says as she pulls back to smile at me briefly.
Her smile is warm and genuine. And then she pulls me in for another hug and shrieks again in my ear.
“I’m so stoked you’ll get to come to prom planning meetings with me.
We usually have them at the mall!” She squeals again, and I fight the urge to cover her mouth with my palm.
“Do I get a say in this or…” I trail off trying to figure out how exactly to phrase my unease without letting her know how I’m truly feeling.
As nice as Lacey seems, I’m starting to think that no one in this school is safe. Especially not the prom queen candidates.
“A say?” she asks as she pulls back to stare at me. She blinks in confusion. She really is very pretty—a beautiful and simple girl with her whole life ahead of her. “What’s there to say besides yes?”
Before I can answer, a shadow shifts over us, blocking out the glare of the fluorescent bulbs from above.
I turn to look up at Sam who’s looming over us with a smug smirk.
He’s wearing his letterman jacket as usual, his dark hair styled back out of his face, showing off his green eyes and chiseled cheekbones.
“I hear you’ve just been nominated as a prom queen candidate, newbie,” he says as he slides an arm around my shoulder, guiding me to move.
Lacey follows our lead, moving with us down the now empty hallway.
He leans in to whisper in my ear as the three of us start walking towards the cafeteria.
“Don’t pick one of those dresses with all the layers of tulle.
It’ll make it hard for my fingers to find that pretty pussy on the dance floor. ”
I feel a blush rise in my cheeks, warmth staining my face. Next to us, Lacey is prattling on about the theme and streamers and shit, oblivious to the fact that her boyfriend just suggested fingering me at prom.
“Maybe I’ll just show up wearing one of those fucking pig masks you guys wear,” I snarkily whisper back at him.
He smirks at me, and my breath catches in my throat. He might be a cheating asshole that’s way too close to his sister, but damn—he’s so attractive it hurts.
“How are you feeling, children?” a soft voice asks, causing me to turn forward.
Principal Matthews is standing in front of the doors of the cafeteria, looking somber. His dark eyes are glistening with unshed tears behind his wire rimmed glasses.
“You did such a great job at the assembly, Mr. Matthews,” Lacey says with a small nod. “What you said about Nicole, how you honored her—”
“Was all bullshit,” a snide voice comes from behind Mr. Matthews. Lacey lets out a small little noise of shock as Stacey rounds the corner. “Everyone knows she was kinda a slut.”
Sam swiftly removes his arm from my shoulder as soon as Stacey is in sight, but I don’t miss the way her emerald eyes scan me with distrust.
“Miss Larsen,” Mr. Matthews chastises. “That is no way to speak of your friend, your classmate, your co-captain on cheer!”
Stacey rolls her eyes and pops her gum. Kicking her hip out to one side, she places her hand on it, her elbow bent as she stares us all down. “I hear you’re my new prom queen competition,” she says to me, completely ignoring the principal.
“What? You going to kill me too?” I snap back, regretting the words as soon as they leave my mouth.
Lacey gasps in horror and I can see Sam flinch out of the corner of my eye. But Stacey just smiles.
“Ladies, you both need to get your behavior in line,” Mr. Matthews sputters as he attempts to gain control of the situation. “Or I’ll call your mothers.”
“Good luck,” Stacey tells him. “Mine’s already downed a bottle of pills and passed out by this time in the morning, and hers is probably perched on her knees sucking cock.”
Bitch.
I mean she’s not wrong… but still, what a fucking bitch.
“Better watch your back, new girl,” Stacey says before flipping her perfect fucking hair over her shoulder and sauntering away.
Sam and Lacey follow behind her like lost puppies. Lacey at least has the decency to throw me a sympathetic look over her shoulder as she disappears into the cafeteria beyond.
“Don’t worry, Jesssica. Everything will be just fine,” Mr. Matthews says as he reaches out and gives my shoulder a soft squeeze.
“I’m not so sure about that.”