Page 48 of They're Watching You

“Why would they do that?”

“A demonstration? To show what’s possible when you rise in the society’s ranks?”

“Or to warn us,” Remington says gravely. “Maybe someone overheard us talking about confiding in a teacher. And now Annabelle is making sure we know it’s not an option.”

“Well, consider me duly warned.” I back up, the scent of the magnolias itching my nose as I take the cobblestone path. “And duly creeped out, for that matter.”

“Jane and Polly are still trapped somewhere beneath us,” Remington says, his voice strained. “What are we going to do?”

“Right now? I’m going to sprint to the humanities building. I’m not giving another teacher a reason to hand me a freaky pardon. Not today, at least. Let’s talk at lunch.”

“Okay, but Maren? I need you to know that I didn’t do what Gavin said. The guy has a crush on you, and—”

“What?Gavin? No.” Suddenly, it’s stifling beneath this sweater.

“Trust me on this. I think he felt threatened by me or something.”

I frown at my phone. “Why would he feel threatened by you?”

A long beat of silence passes. “I guess because I—I don’t know what he thought. He has issues.”

Well, that’s obvious. But it’s also something only I’m allowed to say about Gavin.

“Whatever. I’ll see you at lunch.” Maybe an hour of American Lit will be enough time for me to decide what to say to him at lunch. Because a plan is already stitching together in my head.

I’m just not sure if it’s something I can share with Remington.

Eighteen

When I reach American Lit, sweat dotting my forehead after running the entire way, an envelope addressed toMaren Montgomerysits on top of my desk.

A prickling sense of dread settles over me. Annabelle’s next task. “Did you see who left this?” I ask the girl who sits to my right.

“Sorry, no.” She shakes her head.

I start to ask the guy behind me, but at the front of the room, Dr. Wallace clears her throat. “Good morning, everyone.”

I spin around in my seat, hiding the envelope beneath the desk. I should stuff it into my backpack and forget about it until after class.

But I have to know what she wants me to do next.

I peel open the envelope, coughing to cover the sound. Then, checking that Dr. Wallace is turned to the whiteboard, I slide the card out.

PREVENT REMINGTON CRUZ FROM ATTENDING THE NEXT MEETING.

My teeth clench as I fold the card up. Wonderful. As if Remington and I don’t already have enough trust issues. If I do something this diabolical, it will end us. Whateverusthere is.

For a second, on the phone, it seemed like Remington might’ve thought there was anus. But it was all in my head. He must still be hung up on Jane. Why else was he checking up on her, making sure she really was studying abroad in the first place?

All I really know is that I can’t go through with this task. Annabelle said the way to find our friends was to play the games. If Remington misses a meeting, he’ll lose out on another clue. I can’t do that to him.

But the significance of this decision needles at me. If I refuse the task, I won’t get any closer to releasing Polly.

An hour later, this thought is still weighing on me as I plod through the barbeque chicken line in the dining hall. I pile food onto my plate and grab a glass of water. Astonishingly, I find Remington sitting in a corner, alone.

He smiles when I set my tray down across from him. “Thanks for meeting me. Sitting around is making me anxious.”

I stuff a bite of chicken into my mouth, buying some time as I debate showing him my task. There’s no reason not to show him, is there? I mean, since I’ve put it out of my mind. Since I’m not considering going through with it.

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