If I Die Page 63

Em nodded eagerly and slid one arm around my waist. Either she was playing along, or she’d decided that sharing him was better than not getting him at all. “My house. Do you need the address?” she asked, as I guided us subtly toward the hall.

“I can get it from your file.” Surely a violation of school policy. But then, so was sleeping with students.

“Then we’ll see you tomorrow.” I pushed the door open and tugged Emma into the hall. The door swung shut behind us and I threw my backpack over one shoulder and half pulled her toward the parking lot. When I glanced back, I found Mr. Beck watching us through the window in his door.

The trap was set, the bait in place. But I still had no idea what to do with him once we’d caught him.

Emma turned on me the moment the heavy glass door swung shut behind us. “What’d you do that for?”

“Why did I save you from tortures untold at the hands of our evil math teacher? Because I’m your best friend.”

Em sighed and clutched the strap of her backpack. “I’m pretty sure nothing that man’s hands do could be described as torture. I had him right where we wanted him!”

“Right. I could tell from the way your eyes go out of focus every time you look at him. He charmed you, Em. He was touching your hair when I came in, and—”

“He was not!”

“The hell he wasn’t.” I turned left in the second row, veering us toward our cars, parked side by side. “And that was on school grounds, in full view of anyone who happened to walk by. He must be getting desperate. Or ready to quit at Eastlake and find another campus to prey on.”

“Kaylee, I really don’t think he’d do that,” Emma insisted. I rolled my eyes. “Shake it off, Em. He’s the bad guy.”

“Unless…maybe…Sabine misread him, or maybe we misinterpreted the evidence.”

“Emma…” I started, frowning at her.

“Sorry. I know. He just doesn’t feel bad.”

“What does he feel like?” I could understand the attraction—I had eyes, after all—but not the obsession. His charm didn’t work on me.

“He feels…addictive.” She hugged her own stomach, and her backpack swung to one side, but she didn’t seem to notice. “When he looks at you, you feel really, really good. Like an afterglow that’s not…after. You want things, and you know he can give them to you, and when he looks away, it feels like the spotlight left you to shine on someone else, and you’ll do anything to bring it back. To feel that heat.” Em stopped walking and frowned at me, like she couldn’t believe what she was about to say. “I hated you when you came in,” she confessed, like it hurt to say the words. And I have to admit, it kinda hurt to hear them. “I hated you, just alittle bit, when he looked at you instead of me.”

“I don’t want him, Em. And neither do you.” And listening to her talk about him like that—about a teacher she’d hardly ever spoken to outside of class before—gave me chills so deep my bones could have been carved from ice.

“But I do. I want him, Kaylee. That’s the scary part.” She started walking again, and her next words floated back to me. “I know better, but it doesn’t matter. I still want him.”

“Emma.” I pulled her to a stop again and looked straight into her eyes. “You have to resist it. He’s the honey, you’re the fly. Or maybe he’s the Venus flytrap. Either way, you’re the fly, and the fly never wins.”

She frowned. “So, what are you?”

“I’m the vinegar. Or the lawnmower, depending on the metaphor. Either way, I’m taking him down. And I’m not leaving you alone with him again.”

Emma blinked and her gaze seemed a little clearer. Her forehead scrunched up, like she was trying to remember a fading dream. “Speaking of which, did you just do what I think you just did? Back there?” She nodded toward the building, and Beck’s classroom.

“If you think I implied that you and I would have a three-way with our evil math teacher…then yeah. That’s what I did.”

“Imply, nothin’!” She dug her keys from her purse with one hand. “You practically promised! Damn, Kaylee, I didn’t think you had it in you.”

“Things have changed.” I started walking again, and she jogged to catch up with me.

“What things?”

“Nothing…” I pulled my own keys from my pocket as we neared our cars, at the back of the lot.

“Nuh-uh. Don’t even try that.” She clicked the bauble on her key chain to unlock her doors, then pointed at the passenger seat. “Get in. You can tell me all about these changes on the way to the theater. I’ll bring you back for your car after work.” Emma tossed her backpack and purse into the backseat, then stood watching me, waiting.

“I’m not going to work, Em.”

“Okay, that’s it.” Emma slammed her door and folded her arms over the roof of the car. “What’s going on with you? Multiple detentions, no homework, blowing off work, freaking out at lunch, propositioning a teacher on behalf of both of us… I know he’s an evil teacher, but that’s just not your style. You’re acting like…Sabine.”

“That’s not funny.”

“That’s my point. What going on, Kaylee?”

I took a long, deep breath, then met her gaze over the car. “If you want the detailed version, you’re gonna be late for work.”

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