Page 54 of Someone Knows

“God, he’s such a dick.”

Jocelyn jerked her head up to see whoLucas meant. A car—a familiar one, a dark blue sedan far newer than the one they’d ridden to school in—was parking in a spot twenty feet in front of them. As the man pulled forward, shifted into park, she could feel the weight of his glare through the window. When they passed behind the car, she looked sideways, meeting Mr. Sawyer’s eyes in the rearview mirror.

Her stomach swam with sudden nerves. He didn’t look happy to see her. To seethem. She realized, with a jolt, it was Lucas—he didn’t like Lucas. And hadn’t she promised to steer clear?

“He gave me a D last semester,” Lucas said. “I had a B average until I missed the last test. He gave me a zero because I left in the middle of the day, and he thought I was trying to avoid his exam. I had the freaking flu.”

But Jocelyn had stopped listening. She stepped sideways, out of Lucas’s grasp, and looked back once more—though Mr. Sawyer had disappeared. Probably inside, to his classroom, a classroom she wouldn’t see him in today because of yet another stupid school assembly.

“I think he’s a really good teacher,” Jocelyn murmured as they entered the school.

Lucas stopped, squinted at her. “Huh? Mr.Sawyer?”

“I gotta go.” She turned on her heel and hurried away, ignoring Lucas as he called after her to wait up, that he hadn’t meant to make her mad. Part of her wanted to stop, tell him it wasn’t his fault, that he hadn’t done anything wrong—but she couldn’t. She couldn’t be seen with him at all.

Jocelyn spent the rest of the day picking nervously at her jeans, until a tiny hole formed at the knee.Great, her last pair that was more or less in one piece. She forced her hands under her butt, sitting on them, watching the clock tick by. Soon it would be time for the assembly. She’d find him, apologize, make sure he understood Lucas’s arm around her had meant nothing.

But when the time finally came, withhundreds of students flooding the halls, filing into the gym, Mr. Sawyer was nowhere to be found. He wasn’t seated near the other teachers in the corner. He wasn’t stationed at the doors, where a couple of adults always took up post to make sure kids didn’t sneak out. He was just . . . not there.

She bit her lip until it bled, then wiped blood away hurriedly on the back of her hand. She should have known better. Should have thought it through. Isn’t this what he was talking about, learning discipline? Knowing how to control herself, how to do what she was supposed to? She berated herself through the whole assembly, throughout the rest of the day. But at least she’d see him that night. It was, after all, Thursday—their night.

Jocelyn’s face went hot, remembering what Mr. Sawyer looked like, how chiseled his body was. She imagined touching it. Imaginedhimtouchingher. Maybe they’d go all the way tonight.

Was she ready?

For him, she was. Not for some teenage boy like Lucas, but for a man, a real man? One who could take care of her? Totally. Of course she was. Shehadthought everything through enough to wear jeans instead of a short skirt. Shoes instead of kitten heels. Mr. Sawyer wouldn’t be upset with her this time.

After school, she walked home, found her mother’s keys, and took the car, which had finally gotten a new battery. This time, she parked in the back, where she couldn’t be seen so easily. Without being told, she got out, trudged into the woods, and found a spot where she could sit and wait, watching room 212. She could have waited in the car—that would’ve been less scary than sitting in the dark. But Mr. Sawyer had told her what to do, and she didn’t want to upset him, not when he might already be upset about Lucas. As the sky grew darker, her eagerness increased, until she nearly trembled.

Soon night fell, and still, no Mr. Sawyer.

She waited another hour, but there was no sign of him.

She waited one more hour, nearly fallingasleep on the log she sat on. Maybe she’d missed him? Maybe shehaddozed off for a few seconds, and now he was waiting for her? She stood and went to room 212, listened by the door before knocking.

But no one answered.

There was no noise.

With a sinking feeling, she realized he wasn’t coming.

The following day there was no fifth-period assembly, which meant Mr. Sawyer’s class was on. Jocelyn hadn’t seen him yet, even though she’d passed by his room between every single period. He normally stood in the hallway before classes. Was he avoiding her? Or was she overthinking it? He couldn’t bethatmad at her for walking with Lucas, right? She’d wanted to call him the night before, even looked up the phone number at his house. But she knew that crossed a line.

She slipped into her usual third-row seat across from Ivy, practically shaking with nerves, hoping he’d meet her eyes, maybe slip her a note. Anything. Something.

But he didn’t. Mr. Sawyer stood at the front of the class, and when the bell rang, he began lecturing about their reading assignment. His eyes were hard, narrowed.

“Pay attention,” he said at one point, rapping his knuckles on his desk. Everyone sat a little straighter. She looked up, wondering if he was talking to her—she had been lost in her thoughts—but he looked everywherebutat her.

At this point, she couldn’t deny it any longer: she’d made him mad.

She let out an unsteady breath, trying to pay attention. But inside, she was falling apart. Had she ruined everything?

Jocelyn waited until class ended, fussed with her backpack until every other student had filed out. Then, quietly, hands clutched in front of her, she approachedhim. “Mr. Sawyer?”

“What?” He didn’t look at her. His words were cold, rigid. He straightened a stack of papers on his desk, tucked them into his satchel.

She lowered her voice to a whisper. She wasn’t supposed to say this out loud, especially nothere, at school. “You didn’t come last night.”

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