I bit my lip. A laugh would not be appropriate, but…I couldn’t hold back.

“Shut up.”

“Oh my god.” I normally hated giggling, but wow.

“See.” Katrice patted her son’s tense arm. “Sheldon agrees with me.”

“Mom.” Corrigan shook his head, glaring. “She’s laughing at me. You humiliated me in front of my best friend.”

“She’s not laughing at you. I’m sure Sheldon’s seen Bryce without a shirt. She probably agrees with me.”

I lost it.

“Get out,” Corrigan said through gritted teeth. “Get out while you can.”

I got out and moved downstairs just in time to see Bryce leave the bathroom without a shirt.

I started laughing again.

“What’s with you?” Bryce asked as I walked in front of him and sat on his bed. I laid down as he started dressing.

“Corrigan’s mom is hilarious.”

“Really?” Surprise flashed in his eyes. “I always thought she was a little weird.”

“Oh, she is. But she’s hilarious. She just commended me for being a ‘good’ influence on her son and she’s probably still lecturing him how being a beta male is beneficial.”

“What?” Bryce stopped and looked at me, dumbfounded.

“Never mind.” Still chuckling, I stretched out on his bed.

I didn’t see any similar marks on Bryce like Corrigan’s carpet burn. He really was magnificent and the Mohawk accentuated his presence.

“We have to get all of our cars today,” Bryce mumbled as he looked for his shirt.

I groaned, “Can we not? Can we stay here? Have Katrice be our mother and forget all about high school?”

Bryce sat on the bed as he pulled a shirt over his head. As he poked his head through the opening, he replied, “That’d be awesome, but my mom would have a fit. I’m supposed to make the money—” He bit off the next word.

I sat up. “What are you talking about? Why do you have to make the money?”

Bryce just sighed.

“Bryce,” I said sharply. “You’re going to college…that’s why you stopped playing soccer. They don’t want you to play. Are you supposed to get a job now?”

“Let’s go. I think Corrigan said something about waking up Stephen.”

“No.” I scrambled off the bed and stood in front of the door.

Bryce was avoiding me. He was avoiding my questions and it pissed me off. I may not like to talk about stuff, but I wanted to talk about this—I really wanted to talk about this.

“What is going on?”

“You’re not my girlfriend. I don’t have to tell you a thing,” Bryce cursed and shoved past me.

Stunned, I stood there. What had just happened?

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

I was greeted with blatant stares as I entered the hallways on Monday. I didn’t care as I made my way to first period. Mr. Aldross sat at his desk as he waited for everyone to sit and the first bell rang. After it did, he didn’t write his twenty questions on the board. Instead , the speakers crackled as an announcement was given to us.

“At this hour, please place all your books in your lockers and attend the auditorium.”

I didn’t have to hear the sudden whispers to know what everyone thought. This was the announcement about Leisha’s death.

“Sheldon,” Mr. Aldross spoke up. “Can you wait a moment please?”

I nodded, struck that he’d spoken my first name. Mr. Aldross only greeted me as ‘Miss Jeneve.’

As everyone left and the door closed on the last gawker, Mr. Aldross stood up and sat at a table nearest mine.

“I’m sorry, Sheldon. I wanted to let you know that. I was told that you and Mr. Scout were the ones who found her. That must be…difficult, at the least.” He cleared his throat. “Have you thought about speaking to Miss Connors? I’m sure she’d be an excellent listener if there were things you needed to get off of your chest.”

I nodded and replied, “The cops said that we could do a group thing. Me, Bryce, and Corrigan.”

“Of course. If that would be helpful, it might be the best venue for you.” He nodded again and stood. “Well, shall we go?”

The teacher had given his sincerest condolences. Now that his obligatory support had been given, onto the rest of the day’s agenda.

As we walked through the hallways, there was an overflow of students in the hallway. The auditorium’s door weren’t big enough for the sudden influx of students and the filtering slowed the onslaught.

Corrigan straightened from my locker as Mr. Aldross and I turned the corner.

Mr. Aldross gave us both a perfunctory nod as he passed by us with no comment or reproach.

“That was weird,” Corrigan muttered, still watching the teacher. “I’m used to getting scolded by that dude.”

I kicked my locker and deposited my books inside.

“Hey, so, the cops are here.”

“What cops?”

“The ones for your protection. Remember?”

No.

I’d forgotten.

“Oh.” I glanced around. “Where’s Bryce?” After a tense afternoon spent together, he’d gone home Sunday evening to face AnnaBelle’s wrath. I was a little concerned if he’d been eaten alive.

Corrigan shrugged and remarked, “Can we skip this lame thing? All it’s going to be about is the ‘offer of counseling services. Everyone shouldn’t walk alone at night. Use your buddy-system. And the faculty and staff wish to extend their greatest condolescences to everyone who has been touched by the recent tragic loss.’”

His words were meant for mockery, but they sounded bitter.

“Where’s Bryce?”

“Mama dearest probably locked him in the dungeon.” Corrigan shrugged carelessly. I’d yet to meet a fan of AnnaBelle Scout who wasn’t her seven-year old daughter.

Just then, Bryce rounded the corner and said as a greeting, “The cops are parked across the street. They’re watching your car, Sheldon.”

I already felt protected. Not really, but I was a little relieved. Bryce didn’t seem as tense as yesterday.

“Did your mom freak last night?” Corrigan asked Bryce.

A raised eyebrow was his response and Corrigan chuckled, “She’s so predictable.”