Page 33 of Death is My Ride or Die

“Yep.”

“Of course, I remember him. He was funny.”

“Funny in an odd sort of way. Like you!” Marcy dodged the rubber band that I quickly flung at her like an assassin.

“Apparently, Ben and Thomas’s father had a big falling-out. Ben moved out to Colorado, and the Gregorys think Tommy might have been influenced by him or something. Like, to run away. The cops found sketchy messages on his computer between Ben and him. Dad said Thomas was feeling a lot of pressure from his dad about swimming. You know how Mr. Gregory is.”

Like I could forget. Mr. Gregory had been an Olympic swimmer before a rotator cuff injury forced him into retirement. Now he was the head swimming coach for Pleasant Valley. It was no secret that Thomas’s father berated and pushed his son harder than any of the other kids on the team.

“Did they confirm Thomas is with his uncle Ben?” I asked.

“Not yet.” Marcy used a plush blue headband to push her hair back. Then she sat crisscross applesauce on the blow-up mattress and took little squirrel bites of her pizza and her banana muffin like she was savoring it all. “At least there’s a lead, though, and it might not be drugs . . . ”

“He’ll be okay, Mar.” I twisted my pizza crust between my fingers, urgently getting away from this topic. “So, how’s Nathan?”Great transition, genius. “You two an item yet?”

Marcy coughed a little on her pizza. “Oh, Faith, Faith, Faith . . . ”

“What?”

“Nathan and I are just hooking up. It’s totally not serious.”

“Oh?”

“There’s nothing wrong with that, you know.” She seemed hurt, like she wanted validation from me about it.

“I just think Nathan is good for you. He seems nice.”

“And he is. He’s nice. Butyawn, you know?”

“Oh my God. Marcy . . . ”

“What? Am I wrong? Plus, I’ve been thinking about it a lot, and I don’t know. Is now the time to be looking for a boyfriend? ‘Cause it feels like now’s the time to be dating an older drummer in a band. I’m going to be in the city for fashion school next year. Long distance is not the mood or the vibe.”

“True, long distance is not the mood-vibe,” I agreed.

“See, you get it.” Swiping on her phone, she changed the song playing on my Bluetooth speaker through Spotify. “How about you? Apply anywhere else other than SVA?”

Blood rushed to my ears at the mention of one of my top college choices. It was my absolute dream to attend the School of Visual Arts. With all the madness of the past few weeks, I’d completely tabled applying for colleges.

“Did you know pineapple is a zombie fruit?” I blurted.

Marcy swiped a bit of mask on her cheek and paused. “Huh?”

“There’s an enzyme in it called bromalin, and it tries to break down the proteins in your mouth. That’s why pineapple can burn when you eat it. Zombie fruit.”

Marcy narrowed her eyes, raw honey, nutmeg, and milk dripping off the brush in her hand and into the bowl. “Don’t tell me you didn’tapplyyet, Ms. A Student?”

“B student.”

“Excusez-moi?”

“Vous êtes excusé.I’m failing chemistry.”

“What?”Marcy exclaimed. “You, Faith Williams, failing chemistry?”

“I missed the deadline on a big lab assignment.”While I was being chased by venomous demons created by a raven demigod. “I’m talking to my teacher next week to hand it in late and get some credit. It’s fine.”

“Holy shit, Faith.” Marcy set down the untouched face mask and sat down on the vanity beside my chair. “This is bad, isn’t it?”

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