Page 18 of Wicked Little Secret

Mom laughs as if I’ve told a joke. “Sometimes I forget you’re my daughter. You might just be pettier than me.”

“It’s not like it isn’t deserved.”

“But you know what’s most important, baby girl. Your safety.”

“And justice,” I say. “Making sure everyone who did you wrong gets a little karma. I’ve been doing some of my own research on them too. The school library has come in handy. You know it would be even easier if you told memore about my dad. I’ve been trying to find him in the archives?—”

“Baby girl, I’ve told you everything there is to know. He lost his life because of these people. I was expelled from the school because I dared to be a young woman who got pregnant. Don’t go around campus asking too many questions. They’ll figure out who you really are. That’s the last thing we need. This is why I worry about you.”

I spend the next few minutes reassuring Mom I have a handle on everything and then move onto my sculptures in my living room.

Tomorrow’s the art festival, and I’ll be showcasing some of my work.

I invited Professor Adler.

My belly flutters with nerves remembering how he’d glanced down at the flyer. Curiosity had flickered in and out of his hard expression.

I wasn’t imagining things. He was intrigued.

Throwing myself down on my quilted sofa and grabbing a throw pillow, I listen to Mom tell me about everything going on where she lives in Roseburg.

But really, I’m distracted with thoughts of Professor Adler.

And hope that he’ll show up to see me.

5

THERON

DISTRACTION - MONTELL FISH

“It’s not that bad,”are the first words out of Theo’s mouth. She’s turned up on my doorstep like she so often does—in her uniform of athleisure wear, a slouchy beanie to cover her bedhead hair and the largest size of coffee the local Java King offers. She slurps down some of the coffee as she pays another glance over her shoulder at the damage. “You’re such a drama queen, Theron.”

“And you’re such a slob. Ever heard of pants?Realpants?”

“The kind with no stretch? That shame me every time I gain a pound? I don’t need that kind of negativity in my life. So sue me.”

“I would, but all I’d win in the judgment would be poorly knitted slouchy hats and your Java King stamp card.”

“Hey, I’m two more stamps away from a free sixteen ounce,” she says, shouldering past me in the doorway. She shrugs off her windbreaker jacket and kicks off her scuffed-up sneakers.

I’m like a vacuum, picking up the discarded items in her wake.

Theo and I have always been polar opposites. She’s a people-loving, thrill-seeking cat lady who survives off iced coffee and takeout, while I’m the rigid, sullen, borderline hermit older brother who would be perfectly satisfied if I never had to interact with the general public again.

“Well?” she prompts once she reaches my immaculate kitchen. Theo, being Theo, scans the gleaming, crumb-less space and shakes her head almost as if in disappointment.

I fold her jacket over the top of a barstool and rush to set down a coaster for her melting iced coffee. “Well… what?”

“Well, what did you do about it?”

“One day, Theo, you’ll learn to speak in full, coherent sentences.”

“Don’t be a dick!” she snaps, chucking her fuzzy rabbit foot keyring at me.

The severed floof ball of a foot smacks into my chest before dropping to the ground and rolling under the barstool. I raise both brows at her to her eye roll.

“You know what I mean—what are you going to do about batshit fucking cray cray Alex Forest keying up your car?” she asks. “Are you taking that lying down?”

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