Page 45 of Dirty Tricks

But no touch came.

The car is now a burned-out husk, even the plumes of black smoke not drawing anyone’s attention. When it was done, I called my mother to let her know she was safe to return to her flat.

I rode my pushbike back to town, mixing in with a crowd of other cyclists out for their Sunday morning ride, then peeling away to make my way home.

Home to where my mother waited, her expression cautious, like she couldn’t quite believe she’d been set free.

“I’ll take the blame,” she repeated ad nauseum, trembling with the excess of emotion. “If anyone tries to take you away…”

“You didn’t do anything,” I point out, each repetition dulling the impact.

I haven’t told her about the other bodies we got rid of. She deserves to live a life free of worry, not have me drag her into fresh concerns when she’s so recently free of the old.

At school, I let myself into the lobby and pick up the list of tasks that automatically get logged against my name. All morning long, I glance over my shoulder. Half the time thinking it’ll be the police staring, the other half hoping it’ll be Lexa.

But it’s always someone else.

At midday, my boss shares his thermos of coffee with me, though decaf would probably be better for my nerves.

I’m draining my cup when I see her.

She’s at a bench, eating a sausage roll from the tuck shop, a kiwifruit sitting next to it for dessert. When she glances over, our eyes lock, then I force mine away.

We can’t afford to attract attention. I can’t afford to be caught staring.

The closeness eats at me in a way it never has before.

By stealing glances from my peripheral vision, I see her leave an empty food wrapper on the table, though she takes the fruit skin to the rubbish to throw it into the green container. With goosebumps spreading along my forearms, I walk over, as casual as I can make it. My hand snatches up the greasy paper bag, smiling at the love heart she’s drawn in the corner, at the triple X underneath.

For the afternoon, I’m impatient, waiting for the day to end, for the students to tire of socialising and go to bed. I wait until I can creep into the crawlspace, lift a manhole cover, and accept an invitation to sneak into my favourite schoolgirl’s bed.

And as I skulk around the corridors, I hear rumours of a private party, a sanitorium owned by some rich guy in the hills. A rager that grew so out of control some drunk boys formed a cult, cutting off their pinkie fingers as they swore loyalty in some bullshit oath.

I hear the rumours and smile, my anxiety unwinding a little, letting me relax though it’s far too early to let my guard down, storing up the titbits so I can share them later with the girl I love.

* * *

LEXA

Guilt swamps me when I see Finn’s parents in the head’s office while I’m heading to the common room. I’ve been a bundle of nerves all day long, scared at any moment that the long finger of accusation is going to point straight at me.

But nobody in my classes seems bothered that two students are missing. When Todd’s parents stride into the lobby an hour later, I find out why.

“They’ve run away together,” Allen, a quiet boy from my physics class, says.

“Who?”

His eyes widen when he turns to see who asked, clearly nervous. “Ah, I didn’t see you there.”

No kidding. And when his face blanches further, I turn to see Jenna coming up behind me. Her smile’s a little strained around the edges but nothing more.

“Have you heard?” she asks, bumping her elbow against mine in a friendly gesture.

“Heard what?”

“Finn and Todd are missing,” she says in a whisper loud enough for the room to hear. “The rumour is that they’ve gone overseas because his dad wouldn’t approve.”

I feel like I’ve slipped into the twilight zone. “Wouldn’t approve?”

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