Page 47 of Dead Girls Can't Tell Secrets

The bell rings, sending a hot surge of panic through me. I’m late to my first day of AP chemistry.

I’m never late. I thought it would only take ten minutes to bike from my house to Foothill High, but it took twenty. And I don’t know my way around this place. For all I know, I could be on the wrong side of campus.

I hurry through the eerily empty halls, searching for someone who can point me in the direction of room thirty-three. I should’ve asked that janitor I passed a couple minutes ago. Doesn’t anyone at this school take zero period? There’s a light on in one of the classrooms, but when I try the door, it’s locked.

Why did I ever let Miss Lewis talk me into this? Since Grayling High doesn’t have all the AP science classes I need, my guidance counselor suggested commuting to the high school one town over for zero period. Both schools have been really accommodating—Miss Lewis even finagled an independent study for me during first period so I’d have time to bike to Grayling and still earn school credit.

This is how I repay everyone’s generosity—by showing up late on day one.

Compared to my school, this place is uniform and sterile. It smells like lemons instead of that pungent chemical scent that barely masks the mildew back at Grayling High. Here, the panel lights in the hallway aren’t buzzing, and there’s no graffiti on the classroom doors. When I round another identical corner, I finally spot a brunette with a pristine bob pulling books from her locker. “Excuse me,” I call out. “Where’s room thirty-three?”

The girl begins to point when a smooth baritone cuts her off. “I’m on my way there right now, if you want me to show you.”

I swivel to face the Good Samaritan, and a vein in my temple begins to pulse. The boy is covered in black from head to toe, and chains dangle from his waist. I throw a look of desperation at the girl, but she’s shoving books into her backpack.

I swallow. “Sure. Thanks.”

Chapter 20

The chirping of the birds blares louder than a jackhammer on a Saturday morning as realization sets in. Then there’s no sound at all as everyone stares silently at that metal link resting in Jacey’s palm.

I try to step forward, but the gravel slides beneath my sneaker. The others’ movements are slow and distorted. Noah standing and leaning in to get a better look. Alexandra staring. Tyler backing away.

Then sound bursts back into existence. Jacey gasping. The snap of a twig beneath Tyler’s boot.

My feet find solid ground again. I hurry forward, plucking the chain link from Jacey’s hand and turning on Tyler, holding the metal piece out in front of him. “Why are you out here, you sick freak? Are you stalking us?”

Tyler’s face is stoic. “I wasn’t the only person stalking, by your definition. You followed them up here, same as me.”

“Yeah, well, you’re the only one whose littleornamentwas found on the mountain where my sister fell.” My stomach hardens. I knew there was something off about him.

“Is it a crime to drop something?”

“It is here! You don’t live in Grayling’s Pass or go to Grayling High, so why were you even at this viewpoint?”

Tyler shrugs, and Noah moves closer to him, spine rigid and shoulders back.

“Tell us!” I march toward him with my fists balled, even though he’s a foot taller than me, and Alexandra grabs at the back of my jacket.

“Just calm down, Savannah.” Tyler steps back, prodding a spiderweb strung from the railing to a nearby branch with the toe of his boot. His calmness only makes my fury rise. “The chain link isn’t mine.”

“I don’t have the patience for this.” I hold the link up beside the chains draped from Tyler’s belt loop. “Nobody but you dresses like they might have to prepare a vehicle for snowy conditions at any moment.”

“Cross my heart, hope to die.” He puts a hand on his chest.

I press closer, fists still clenched, sneakers squishing over a spongy bed of moss.

“It was Piper’s.”

My insides go cold. Tyler’s grin is subtle, but it’s enough to make Noah take that swing on my behalf.

Noah’s fist strikes him in the jaw. Behind me, Alexandra yelps, and I straighten as Tyler tips backward. He regains his balance, brushing the red spot with his fingers as Noah rubs his knuckle. Jacey’s mouth is parted in awe.

“Nice one,” I mutter before turning to Tyler’s hunched figure. “You don’t know anything about my sister.”

“That’s where you’re wrong.” Tyler moves his jaw around, pressing his fingers to it delicately. He cuts an irritated glance at Noah, who backs up a few paces. “I know Piper—more than know her. She’s been my closest friend since last year. She kept one of the chain links in her pocket.” He reddens. “She likes to joke that it’s our version of a friendship bracelet.”

“Wait a minute.” I pace, feet crushing a cluster of wild mushrooms. “First of all, that’s absurd. What are you, twelve? Second of all,howdo you know Piper? You said you were new to the club.”

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