Page 74 of The Game Is Afoot

And that’s enough for him, for now. He says good night to Pearl, and then I take over for my dad, braiding her hair and flossing her teeth (because she somehow convinced Papa “we don’t do that anymore”) and reading her bedtime story and checking on her “just one more time.” And then after she’s finally out, I put away the dishes and fold the towels and clean out the lint trap in the dryer and go through every paper in Pearl’s stuffed backpack and send my résumé out to three jobs on ZipRecruiter that I don’t want but I should probably just grow up and accept because it’s work and no one loves work.

I keep myself so busy that by the time I stagger to bed, bleary-eyed, I’m out before my tears can even hit the pillow.

Twenty-One

“Thank you for meeting withme.”

Principal Smith’s words hit me like rocks to my throbbing skull, and I try to smile politely, but it comes out more like a grimace. I feel like I’m hungover even though I didn’t drink anything last night. It’s an emotional hangover.

“Sure. Happy to.”

I didn’t want to say yes when he called me this morning asking me to come in, after how this ended last time. And it’s not really safe with me dodging Mrs. Tennison’s many emails about that freaking costume. But it’s a good distraction from everything with Jack and Corey last night.

I can be okay with that. For now.

AndI want us back.

Both have been blasting so loudly in my head they’ve drowned out all the thoughts about the investigation—along with visions of those goddamn overnight ultra thin pads from Corey, dancing and doing high kicks.

I don’t think that’s what Jack had in mind when he asked me to move on from this case already.

“So, I’m sure you’ve heard,” Principal Smith says, bringing me back. “Mr. Forest went home sick yesterday.”

“Yes, I know. Ms. Lilliam called me.” And told me a lot more than I asked for, so why are we discussing it again? Does Mr. Forest know they’re spreading his butt business around town like this?

Principal Smith glances at the ceiling, like he’s thinking something over, and then leans forward with his chin resting on his knuckles, looking me right in the eye. “He thinks…someone may have done this to him.Purposefully.”

“Oh. So, I guess it wasn’t just ‘interpersonal issues between parents’ then?” I was right. I knew I was right, but now he does, too, and maybe Trisha will finally get some more serious consequences this time, because clearly just banning her from the premises isn’t enough. And wow, is my headache gone? Trisha getting in trouble may be my cure-all.

But why is he looking at me like that? All…squinty. And with his lips pursed. I feel like I’m being studied, like he’s a scientist and I’m some poor specimen under a microscope.

“Oh my god! You think it was me?”

Principal Smith’s eyebrows jump. “Well, you were upset about Trisha…”

“And you think I’d make him sick over that? I didn’t blamehim! I blamedher! She was the psychopath who was blackmailing him just so her kid could wear that little red afro! And that’s why I told you about it, so you could do something, but you blew me off because you said it wasn’t your problem. Except now it looks like it is.”

“Yeah, I didn’t really think it was you,” he mumbles, suddenly interested in shuffling papers on his desk.

I start to stand up. “Okay, well, I’m going to go then—”

“It’s just, he’s insisting I take action! He says it’s my job toprotect him!” The papers in his hands scatter as he runs his hands through his thinning brown hair in frustration. He continues to stare at his desk, though, as if he’s not even talking to me. “These after-school programs are getting out of control—no, they’re past that. These parents want their precious children to have everything: robotics, yoga, fencing! And there’s no one to coordinate all of it, so of course it falls on my shoulders. Meanwhile, we’ve got someone poisoning the theater teacher and chessboards being snapped over people’s heads like this is WrestleMania and not an elementary school, all because no one can handle their kid not being the best. And I can’t take it anymore!” He makes a sound like a scream trapped in the back of his throat and starts pulling at his hair again. A piece in the back stands straight up. “You know what, I’m just going to shut the whole thing down and lock the gates at three. It’ll be better that way. If they want enrichment, then they can get it somewhere else!”

“No, I don’t think you should do that.” Pearl would be so sad to lose this theater class, and she’s already asked me to sign her up for ceramics in the spring. But beyond Pearl, what about all of the families that use the after-school programs for childcare, since school is done hours before most jobs are? Or the ones who can’t just go and sign up for the expensive enrichment classes at all these private academies popping up in Beachwood? Why should they be punished because of a few entitled (andinsane) parents?

“I mean, I don’t know about the…chess wrestling. But do you even know for certain he was poisoned?”Poisoned.My voice trembles slightly saying the word, as my mind jumps to Cole. This wasn’tthat. This was just a couple of hours on the can. “Maybe he just ate a bad corndog from the cafeteria…?”

But Principal Smith is shaking his head before I’m evenfinished. “He insists that someone did this to him. He says he does…intermittent fasting? And that he only drinks clear beverages until—oh, I don’t know. I stopped listening. But he demanded that I look into it and ask Trisha, specifically.” He winces. I guess I should be flattered that at least I wasn’t his first suspect?

“I’m assuming that didn’t go well.”

“No,” Principal Smith says emphatically, eyes flaring. “She threatened to sue us for harassment. And even before that, I knew it was a long shot. She’s banned from campus, and the teachers know to call a code royal blue if she’s ever sighted.” Wow, they really do have a code for everything around here. “So, unless she paid someone to do it for her…and with what I’ve seen of this woman, I wouldn’t put it past her. But I don’t know. I just don’t think it fits because—”

“Because she already got what she wanted,” I finish. I hate to defend Trisha, but it’s true. “Why would she make Mr. Forest sick and take the chance that he might quit over the whole thing, if Anabella is already Annie?”

“If it’s not her, though, it just reinforces the fact that this is a larger problem at Knoll. It’s a real special place y’all have got here, isn’t it?” His mustache lifts in a patronizing smile, like the one he gave me last time I was here. Annoyance rushes over me, but then it’s gone just as quickly, because there’s another thing, right on the edge of that same memory. What did he say when he smiled at me like that? Something about, I wasn’t the first parent who came to him pissed about their kid not getting the part they preferred.

“Okay, what about that other parent? Who was mad their kid didn’t get a part? Have you talked to them?”

---