Page 33 of Dead Girls Can't Tell Secrets

Even I had never known how far I could fall.

“I triple-checked those scores after I input them,” Piper said. “And I never spoke to Lucy Dawes or anyone else about doctoring numbers! Why would they say theTAdid that, Savannah?”

Because I’d instructed them to. None of my “clients” had been willing to simply hand over the money. They’d insisted on knowing how I was planning to access the grades, so I’d told them I wasn’t; the TA was handling everything.

“I’m sorry,” I said, grabbing my head in both hands. “I never thought Mr. Davis would notice or check the scores. I didn’t change anything drastically, just enough to bump them from a minus to a plus or whatever.” Piper’s gaze remained fixed on the carpet. “I was trying to get the money for the tournaments!”

“Tournament, singular.Yourtournament. You think I would’ve agreed to split the money with you if I’d known you were going to earn it illegally? This was your problem, and you decided to make it mine.” She leaned against my desk chair like she couldn’t hold herself upright. “I couldn’t tell Mr. Davis or Principal Winters I’d given you access to the tests, that I’d made the mistake of letting my idiot sister get hold of Mr. Davis’s password. I told you he trusted me with those grades! I can’t believe you did this to me.”

“I never thought I’d get caught,” I said, knowing it was the king of moronic excuses. “I thought I was helping both of us. You were so stressed, and I needed to make some quick cash. I’m really sorry, Piper.”

Her eyes lifted slowly from the floor to meet mine. “So, you’ll tell Mr. Davis I had nothing to do with this?”

“Piper, I…” The glimmer of hope that had drifted into her expression a moment before evaporated. Her jaw tensed. “If I do that, I’ll lose my shot at MLC. You’ll still get into college with one black mark on your record. You have next year. For me, this is it. If I get suspended or”—I swallowed—“expelled…it’s over.”

Her already-large blue eyes widened further. Then they shut, a drop escaping through her lashes to trickle down her red cheek.

Regret pressed on my chest like a bad infection, and I got up, stepping toward her. “Piper, I—”

Her thin frame began to shake, and she wiped away the tear. “You really think I’m going to take the fall for this?” Her voice screeched like rubber against pavement. She started pacing around my room, mumbling and huffing something about betrayal and dances and having nothing left. I suddenly wished she’d just cry. At least then I could try to comfort her.

Instead, she pushed past me toward the door, stopping to growl, “I’m telling Mom and Dad.”

A rush of dread swept through me. “I just wanted to make sure I’d get into MLC,” I pleaded. “I need that scholarship, Piper.” But with a biting edge, I added, “Your future isn’t the only one that matters.”

She flinched like I’d slapped her. And then, with more coolness than she’d ever displayed in her life, she said, “Up until a half hour ago, my future was the only one that existed. You can’t get into college with your grades, Savannah. Your boyfriend is a loser and a cheater. Even if you get that soccer scholarship, you’ll screw it up. The way you screweverythingup.”

She slammed the door in my face. I stood, stunned, as every poster on my wall, every paper on my desk fluttered and flapped. Something floated off the desk, dropping to the floor. I leaned over to pick up the leaflet with the sky-blue font that read MOUNT LIBERTY COLLEGE.

I crumpled it up and tossed it into the wastebasket, my body flooded with molten lava. My arms, my legs, my mouth—everything was fluid, out of my control. I grabbed my phone, and my fingers felt detached from my body as I texted her.

Go ahead and tell Mom and Dad. We’re done, Piper. I don’t care about you. No one does. As far as I’m concerned, you don’t exist.

That was the last thing I told my sister before she ended up in a coma. Those are the words that have been stabbing at me constantly for the past month.

The reason I couldn’t let anyone see Piper’s phone.

The reason I was certain I was to blame for everything.

Now, I’m not sure what to think. All I know is that I may’ve just caught one of Piper’s best friends—a kid I’ve known most of my life—threatening me. And that Piper was threatened the same way before she fell from the Point.

“He didn’t do it,” Jacey whispers, but I’m not even sure she’s talking to me anymore.

I turn over, attempting to fluff the sweatshirt I’m using as a pillow. “Just be careful.”

Chapter 14

I wake up alone in the tent. Peeling back my sleeping bag, I yawn and feel around for my pack. Hushed voices float through the cold air. Soft morning light permeates the tent fabric, and I slide the zipper down a bit, letting more trickle in. I rummage through my backpack in search of my toothbrush to no avail. Within sixty seconds, the tent looks like a mini version of my bedroom, the contents of my backpack scattered over the rumpled sleeping bags and the nylon floor.

Finally, I locate the toothbrush and a little travel tube of mint toothpaste hidden within the folds of a shirt. I stuff everything else back into the pack, secure my hair into a ponytail, and check my face in a little hand mirror.

When I open the tent flap, everyone seems to be up, mixing more of those crummy meals around the fire. I duck out and around the back of the tent, trying to figure out how I’m going to deal with last night’s graffiti.

But when I get there, my heart lurches. The message is gone, only a gauzy smear of white left in its place.

What looked like paint in the black of night must’ve actually been spray chalk or some other washable substance. I head into the woods to search the grass where I last spotted the can, but of course it’s gone. I don’t know whether to be relieved that Mr. Davis isn’t going to ask about the message or irritated at how well Noah keeps covering his tracks. Kicking a pine cone, I head back to my tent to do a quick teeth-brushing.

When I reach Grant, he flashes me a smile and raises his brows in a question.

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