“Why didn’t you say something yesterday?” Ms. Fajardo asked as Coop twisted to look at the sheet, and I barely caught the movement of his hand as he snapped a picture with his phone.
Forcing my gaze to stay on our teacher’s, I shrugged a little. “I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it. But with everything else that’s happened, I’ve been advised that might not be the best course.”
“I agree with whomever gave you the advice.” She flicked a look to Coop. “I’ll take care of this one.”
She knew who’d done it.
Coop got that, too. “You don’t have a TA for our period.”
“No, but I will handle it. I’m sorry you had to deal with this, Frankie. In the future, alert me immediately, please. Though I am hoping there is no future event to worry about.”
Her and me both.
“I will,” I said. “I’d really like to just focus on getting the work done.”
“I know you would, but we have a zero tolerance policy for a reason. Now, you two go to lunch, all right?”
There was a reason I really liked her. She was no nonsense, but also fun. As teachers went, she listened and she could tease even as she taught. We headed out to meet the guys, and they were waiting—patiently—in Jake’s SUV. Archie and Ian had the backseat and Ian slid out to let me climb in the middle while Coop got shotgun.
“It’s not the same writing,” he said rather abruptly as we left the lot.
“What—the thing on the essay?” That was why he took a photo?
“Yeah,” he said, holding his phone toward us while Archie unfolded the paper. “It doesn’t match the note.”
They didn’t match. I hadn’t really thought to compare them, but the person who wrote the note used loopy cursive, and the person who left the nasty-gram on the test printed it neatly, if a little slanted.
“Well, I don’t recognize it,” Archie complained as he handed both over to Ian. “You?”
“No,” he said. “But I’ll be honest, I don’t really pay attention to how people write. I’d know Frankie’s handwriting, but I’ve been reading her class notes for years.”
“Ditto,” Coop said as Archie chuckled.
“I’ll look at it when we get to the fish place.”
Leaning my head back against the seat, I sighed. Archie caught my left hand and Ian my right. I glanced from one to the other and dredged up a smile. As much as I wanted to enjoy lunch, I kept turning the two different notes over in my mind. To be honest, I hadn’t really focused on whether they’d been written by the same person or not—now though? Now, I wondered just how many people I’d managed to piss off.
Coop seemed convinced it was because of them, and maybe it was, but I was part of this, too. We were all friends, and if someone was coming after them the way they were me, I’d probably be a hell of a lot angrier.
So, why wasn’t I angry for me?
That particular question buzzed around in my head all the way through lunch, even when I tried to laugh and smile at the conversation. It all felt forced, and I don’t think I was the only one distracted. The guys kept sharing these looks, like they were having an entirely separate conversation.
“Before we go back…” I said after a while. “Is there something I should ask about with regard to the summer?”
Silence blanketed the table. They glanced at each other, then me.
“Pretty sure I told you about mine,” Archie stated.
“Yours didn’t include the Instagram pictures.” Even if I tried to keep the accusation out of my voice, I couldn’t quite mask the fact those pictures had bugged me, no matter how hard I tried to not let them.
“Fair enough,” Archie said. “But I don’t know what the note is talking about specifically.”
“We were…a little wild,” Coop admitted. “I may or may not have gotten drunk more than once.”
Ian grimaced. “Definitely more than once. We were all there for that particular pool party.” The pictures. He winced a little as he met my gaze. “Sorry.”
“I’m not mad,” I told him. “I’d have to be a hypocrite to be angry about it.” Jake hadn’t said a word, and after last night, I wasn’t going to press him. “You guys seem to think this is because of you.”