Chapter 2

After I spend all of first period wondering how Piper possibly could’ve had a Survival Club meeting at the exact place and time of her fall, the bell finally rings. I leap from my desk, ignoring Señora Pérez’s last-minute homework instructions.

I scan the hall for my boyfriend, Grant, and spot his dark curls and athletic build through the crowd. He’s coming to walk me to World Lit. Hurrying over, I take his hand and drag him to an empty corner.

I glance over my shoulder before facing him. His gorgeous brown skin is flushed pink.

“Missed me, huh?” He wraps both hands around my waist and leans in.

“Of course,” I say, pulling back. “But I wanted to ask you about something.” I tug the note from the pocket of my jeans and show it to him. Grant’s in Survival Club too. “I found this in Piper’s locker. Were you at this extra skills session the day she fell?”

His brow furrows as I hand him the note. “No,” he says, examining it.

“Really?” Disappointment hits me like a soccer ball to the chest. I was really hoping he could tell me something, anything. “I just don’t understand—”

“I wasn’t there,” he interrupts, “because there was no meeting that day. We always meet on Mondays.”

A tingle courses up my spine. “Then why would Piper get a note that says otherwise?” I take the paper back, turning it over in my hand.

Grant shrugs. “Maybe Mr. Davis thought she needed extra practice.”

“Just the two of them?” I ask skeptically. “And if that were true—which would be super weird, by the way—why wouldn’t he have mentioned it? He would’ve been there, where she…” Sadness swells in my throat, but I swallow it down. “He would’ve seen her just hours, maybe minutes, before it happened, right?”

Grant places a hand on my shoulder, peering down at me with concern in his hazel eyes. “Just ask him, Savannah. After chemistry.”

“I’d rather have you there,” I say.

“Then swing by our meeting after school.”

Swing by our meeting.In Mr. Davis’s room.

It might be the only way to find out the truth.

***

Two steps into room twenty-five, I want to creep out into the hall again and shut the door. But I can’t.

Not until I find out if someone was really up at the Point with Piper that day.

Mr. Davis sits slouched on top of the desk, the same way he does during chemistry class. He’s wearing jeans and a gray collared shirt, and he casually sips coffee from a mug that says WORLD’S MOST OKAY TEACHER. He’s young, probably the youngest teacher at Grayling High.

Piper loves him. She was always talking about him. He’s probably the reason she joined Survival Club. She took chemistry two years early, because Piper was—is—like that, and afterward, he let her become his student TA as part of some program she could put on her college applications. Not that she needed more shiny programs.

Guilt ripples through me, and I take a deep breath.

I can sense someone watching me from the other side of the room. When I glance over, I find Jacey Pritchard, Grant’s ex, standing in the middle of a circle of chairs, glaring.

My stomach clenches. I’d forgotten she’d be here.

Where the hell is Grant? I pull out my phone to text him when a deep voice says, “Hi, Savannah.”

A chill runs like droplets of cold water down my back, but I force myself to meet his gaze.

“Looking for Grant?” Mr. Davis’s blue eyes sparkle at me as he brushes a strand of sandy blond hair off his forehead. The grin is a permanent fixture on his face. All the girls at this school find him so dreamy.

I used to think so too; now I just find Mr. Davis problematic. A possible roadblock in the way of living happily ever after with my boyfriend.

I move closer to the desk. “Actually, I was looking for you.” There’s a tremor in my voice. I haven’t spoken to Mr. Davis directly in weeks. I wasn’t planning on speaking to him directly ever again, if I could help it. Each day, I sit in the back of his fifth-period chemistry class and will myself invisible. “I need an extracurricular,” I lie. “I was thinking about this club.”