Page 36 of Dead Girls Can't Tell Secrets

“It was at homecoming,” he says, staring down at the ground. “When Piper was dancing with you and your friends, I sort of went into the photo booth with Jacey, and…” His face crumples. “We…”

I get a flash: Jacey and Noah off in the woods.I already said I’m sorry.

Anger writhes in my throat, leaving me speechless. Jacey did this. Jacey, who’s been pretending she wants to figure out what happened to Piper.

“I’m going to kill her.”

“What? No, Savannah. I’m not done talking.” Beneath his glasses, his eyes are pained. A tear brims on his lashes. “Jacey and I kissed. But it wasn’t her fault. Notonlyher fault. I wanted it too.”

My vision goes spotty, black flecks marring the greenery. “Piper was so happy that night. She loves you. How could you do this to her?”

But even as the words hang in the air, I picture Grant and me, bodies tangled up on the hot dance floor. They’re no worse than me. “Did she find out?”

He doesn’t answer at first, just nudges a yellow-flowered weed with his boot. Finally, he nods. “When we came out of the booth, she was holding the photos.”

A tide of nausea rises in me. How did I not know about this? Piper would’ve been destroyed.

But I wasn’t there. I went to the after-party, too caught up in being homecoming queen—too caught up in Grant—to notice. I ended up crashing at Jessica’s, only making it home late Sunday night.

“And you two broke up?”

He pales, running a hand through his hair. “That would’ve required us to be together in the first place.”

My legs go numb, and I turn to collapse onto a rotten patch of log beside him. “What are you talking about? You and Piperweretogether.”

He winces. “I know Piper thought we were.”

I feel so sick. I lean over, head between my useless legs.

“I know how it sounds.” His voice is strained, its richness and depth gone, leaving only hollow sounds that make up hollow words. “But I felt bad for her. She’s my best friend, and I couldn’t tell her I didn’t feel the same way she did. Things were easier when it was the three of us. Then she and Jacey went through that rough patch last year, and Piper and I ended up spending a lot of time together, just the two of us. She seemed to think we were a couple just because we were together all the time.”

“And you never wanted to be with her that way.”

His lips purse. “At first, I thought I might. I tried to make it work. But after a while, I realized I was only fooling us both. Especially after the dance.”

“So, she was heartbroken, then.” And I never knew. After all the time I’d spent convincing her homecoming was going to be amazing—that she was going with a boy who loved her—I never cared enough to ask about it.

He doesn’t move an inch when he whispers, “She did it because of me.”

Under the weight of his words, my body buckles. I pull in a breath, trying to keep my hands from pushing straight through the rotting corpse of a log. I want to hold Noah, to console him. Because if this is his fault, it’s also my fault. Piper was already dealing with so much, and then I went and committed the ultimate act of betrayal.

“I was horrible to her,” he says. “I wanted to do the right thing, to finally be straight with her. I asked to speak to her about”—he looks down—“what happened that night. At the dance.”

I lick my lips, but they still feel dry. Like they might crack open and bleed all over my chin.

“I tried to talk to her on the way to sixth period the day she fell—to apologize—but she kept asking if I was in love with Jacey, and I didn’t know how to answer. Then Piper’s name came over the loudspeaker, telling her to go to Mr. Davis’s office.” His hands fidget in his lap. “She ran off crying.”

Noah bites his lip. “I was a coward. I couldn’t admit the truth, and she ran away.” His gaze veers toward the trees as if he’s watching Piper flee all over again. “And Ilet her, Savannah. I didn’t call her back. Didn’t check on her after school. Nothing. I just sat at home like a coward.” His feet fidget as he mindlessly unravels the hem of his shirt. “And then…”

“Noah,” I interrupt. “Stop.” I want to tell him the truth, but I don’t even know the truth anymore, only the mammoth part I played in Piper’s distress. “I know you think you’re responsible, but there was something else too.”

He looks up, pale eyes glistening. “What do you mean?”

I swallow. “The message on our tent—it had to do with Piper. I found a threat just like it inside her pack last week, telling her to ‘quit survival club or else.’”

“That’s what you meant last night. When you said, ‘You did this to Piper too.’”

“Whoever wrote it took the pack before I could show the cops. And there’s more. Some strange calls on her phone. And a note from the office, telling her to go to the Point for a Survival Club meeting that day.” My right knee bounces. “I think she went to the fake meeting, and whoever wanted her out of the club hurt her.”

---