Page 79 of The Last Love Song
She had a new cell phone—a super plain model like the kind drug dealers used when they didn’t want anyone to track their calls. The police had recommended it, and no one had the number but her father and Bailey. Her old phone was held captive by the sheriff’s department for evidence purposes as they were trying to build a harassment case against J.D.
“I have news that might interest you.” Bailey sounded tense. Upset.
“What’s wrong?” She muted the sound on the television, but continued playing her game. Like music, it helped relax her, and she’d taken the blisters on her fingers to a whole new level this week.
Playing guitar wasn’t an option for a few days.
“My mother admitted she sent you those text messages.” Bailey’s voice broke in the middle of it, the latter half of the sentence garbled by tears.
“What? You’re kidding me.” Megan sat up straighter on the floor of her bedroom, watching a mutant zombie explode on contact. “Why would she do that?”
Megan had been so sure J.D. was behind it, or one of his friends. Everything about the harassment felt like something a guy would do. Not a friend’smother.
“She wanted you to move out of town so your father would leave the town board or some lame shit like that. I don’t know. She’s superpolitical and wanted to run the town or something.” Bailey hiccuped. Sniffled. “I wouldn’t have known except I listened outside the kitchen door when the cops talked to her for a third time. This morning. She kept saying over and over that she used the phone that J.D.’s father gave her. Like that matters? Why didn’t she take some responsibility for bullying a kid? And my friend?”
Maybe because Mrs. McCord knew that the phone had done more than simply send a few ugly texts. She was sleeping with J.D.’s father, after all. Maybe Mrs. McCord was worried the phone—and those texts—would show she had created the creepy website and was trying to protect her own ass? Maybe J.D.’s father gave it to her purposely because it had belonged to J.D. or something. Perhaps trying to hide evidence of his evil kid’s wrongdoing? It was all very, very messed up.
Megan obliterated the zombie village in a relentless attack, all the while wondering what to say. Maybe she’d watched too many cop dramas. How would she know why Mrs. McCord did anything?
“That’s messed up, Bailey. I don’t know if this helps or anything, but keep in mind that’s her. Not you. My mom is aloser of the first order, right? She adopted me with my dad and then left him because it was too much work. She never calls. She never comes by. And that’s a good thing because I don’t need that kind of mother, one who walks away. Realizing that helps me love my dad more when he’s smothering me with helmets and sunscreen. He cares. And your mom obviously cares about you or she wouldn’t have stuck around for eighteen years.”
“Maybe. I don’t know.” Bailey snorted, then sniffled again, her voice small. “How can you defend her? She said you should do us a favor and die, didn’t she? She could, like, go to jail.”
Megan cocked her head to the side, thinking. She had been so hurt by those texts, but maybe more so because she’d been afraid they’d been from Bailey. A person she’d trusted. Knowing an adult had sent them was a relief in a way. And made her realize how pathetic the texts were.
“Maybe Mr. Covington told her what to say. I don’t know. Whatever mistakes she’s made, she’s going to pay for them. With the cops and with your dad. Maybe she’ll realize what she did was wrong and feel bad about it.” Megan’s game ended and a screen popped up adding points to her overall total. A few online players started gabbing and arranging another round, but she ignored them. “Do you think the cops are any closer to figuring out who posted that webpage?” Had Mrs. McCord done that, too?
The sooner something happened on this case, the quicker Megan would be able to have a life again. She could see Wade outside of work. She wanted to tell him about the bulletin board at the police station with its ad for a program to finish high school and earn freshman college credits, plus a scholarship for cop training. She’d shoved it in her purse, but she didn’t want to give it to him at work. She wanted to see him again. For real.
“I don’t know. But it sounds like J.D.’s dad turned out to be as much of a prince as his son, because he screamed at my mom when she broke up with him.”
Megan sighed. Bailey had gotten a restraining order against J.D. when they’d split since things had gotten physical between them a couple of times. Mostly shoving, Bailey said. The police were keeping an extra eye on Bailey’s house.
“How’s your dad doing with all this stuff going on?” Megan asked.
“He’s moving out. He invited me to go with him if I want to go back to his hometown of Juneau, Alaska.”
Hey, Bruiser12?
A chat window opened on the video game screen. Someone obviously wanted to talk to her privately.
Megan typed a question mark back.
“Juneau?” That was like the end of the earth. And cold, too. She felt terrible for Bailey. This whole mess was turning out to be worse for her than it had been for Megan. “I’m sorry.”
A response filled the chat window.
It’s Sylvia. From guitar. Meeting Ms. Finley for a send-off for her audition and to jam. You’re invited! Darcy’s Doughnuts on the exit just north of Heartache. Noon tomorrow.
The chat box closed as SweetSylvia signed off.
Megan would kill to have some rehearsal time before the talent show. And it would be really cool to wish Ms. Finley well before her big audition. Sylvia had graduated two years ago and she’d been in Nashville for the last few months. Megan had chatted with her online a few times after Ms. Finley shared some of Sylvia’s demo tapes.
“It all sucks.” Bailey sniffled again. “Thanks for being cool about my mom. I’ve been embarrassed to tell you, but I know you’re anxious for your confinement to be lifted, and with thisnew evidence, the cops will probably tell you it’s safe to go out, right?”
A bright side for sure.
“Well, I was embarrassed for the world to see I supposedly went to Slutsville Academy and gave blow jobs on the street for bargain prices, but I’m determined to survive it.” Thinking about the website—and the fact that her father knew all about it—still made her want to throw up. “It helps having friends who don’t judge me, so I’m glad I can be that friend for you, too.”
