Chapter Eighteen
Sunday came and went. Regardless that I told myself not to check, I skimmed the morning paper after Chandler finished thumbing through it with his coffee. Nothing. At least nothing that stood out to me. I didn’t see how the upcoming local elections or sports section were relevant to Carter or me.
By Monday, I’d nearly forgotten Carter’s stupid message, particularly when I saw that the graffiti bandit struck again.
DEAR KERRI AND IZZY. DEAD GIRLS CAN’T KISS AND TELL. WILL YOU TAKE YOUR SECRETS TO THE GRAVE?
Kerri Huntington was one of the girls on the cheerleading squad with Izzy Clayton and Ava Whitmore. Interesting to see the tagger targeting someone else for a change. It gave me mixed feelings.
Or perhaps I spoke too soon. Wednesday, another message appeared, and this one seemed to hit closer to home than the previous. This time their pink slander was scribbled over the football field.
THERE’S ONLY SO MUCH YOU CAN BURY. THE TRUTH ALWAYS COMES OUT.
The message didn’t name anyone specific this time, and yet it felt directed at the Elite. Or was it referring to Carter? Honestly, there were too many people in this school with secrets.
Regardless, Brock finally seemed concerned about whoever this mystery tagger was. “I think it’s time to shut this shit down.”
“I agree,” Grayson added, staring at the lush grass that had been defiled with pink spray paint. The football field was Elite turf, and scrawling the graffiti here sent a message in itself.
“You still don’t have any idea who’s behind it?” I asked, more curious than ever about the identity of the tagger. How did they get into the school?
Grayson shook his head. “No, but we had other things on our mind. None of us gave much thought to who was behind the messages.”
A different story if they started revealing Elite secrets.
“I kind of think it’s… brave,” Kenna said, angling to the side. She had on the Academy dark blue cardigan today, but even that wasn’t enough to protect against the November chill that swept into the air this morning.
“Brave?” Grayson echoed, giving her an odd look.
“Yeah,” she nodded.
“How the fuck do you figure?” Grayson questioned.
“It takes guts to expose people for their lies. Everyone at this school is afraid of the four of you and what might happen if they do something to piss one of you off. It means they aren’t afraid of you.” I didn’t know if I agreed with Kenna’s logic. The tagger more or less threatened or hinted at exposure. They seemed to want to taunt us with the possibility our secrets will be spilled. Basically, if we didn’t own up to them, the tagger would.
“Well, they should be afraid,” Brock said, his shoulder touching mine as he stood beside me.
I hugged my laptop to my chest, wishing I hadn’t forgotten my bag at home. It meant I had to carry the thing around all day. “Don’t forget, you were one of those people who the tagger has exposed,” I reminded Kenna.
She shrugged. “I know, but they do have a certain flair I can appreciate.”
Grayson rolled his eyes. “Whatever, Kenna.”
Brock and Grayson started to walk away from the football field, moving toward the school entrance. Kenna and I followed. “Carter swears it isn’t him,” I said.
“And you believe that piece of shit?” Grayson huffed.
A vein in Brock’s neck throbbed at just the mere mention of Carter’s name.
Grayson had a point. There was no logical reason for me to believe Carter. Yet, this didn’t feel like him. It did feel personal, but not in an aggressive way that was normally Carter’s style. He liked to threaten face-to-face, knives, guns, fists, that sort of thing. He was the kind of asshole who got physical. This person hid behind their words. They were secretive and mysterious, almost like they were afraid to be found out.
But that wasn’t the highlight of my Wednesday.
As Brock, Grayson, Kenna, and I walked across the parking lot, weaving in and around cars toward the school, my phone buzzed in my hand at the same time Brock’s, Grayson’s, and Kenna’s went off.
What the hell?
That was fucking weird.