Page 34 of The Prom King & The Ice Queen

Leo

We drive mostof the way in silence. The only time Savannah breaks it is to give me terse directions. Turn here. Keep going. Left at the light.

And I barely speak at all.

Mainly because I have no idea what to say. I don’t even know who I’m sitting next to right now and that’s…crazy.

I mean, I have known this girl my whole life. And not in the way that I’ve theoretically ‘known’ Callie and Willow and everyone else in our class. Savannah is in my crew. She’s part of my circle.

We both took our first sip of beer at April’s party freshman year. We all did the group hang thing for years. And yet, tonight, watching her sing and seeing her interact with the kids, listening to her talk to Callie and Willow…

I don’t know her at all.

I’m not sure any of her friends at school do, either. My head is a mass of confusion trying to reconcile the way she orders April and the others around with the way she acts around Callie and Willow.

Not to be rude, but they’re kinda weird. Not popular, which is fine by me, but…

Ah crap. There’s no nice way to say it. They’re the kind of people I’d expect Savannah to ignore…at best.

But no, they seem to know more about her real life than I do.

Than any of us do.

The tension in this car is growing unbearable. Her walls are not just up, they’re thick and they’re made of ice.

The thought makes me snicker because…God. Savannah is the ice queen. Whatever that Disney chick’s name is, Savannah is so her. And listening to her sing that song…

That might be the first real glimpse of Savannah I’ve seen in the entire decade that we’ve known each other.

Her knuckles are white as she clutches the bag with her real clothes. Normally she’d be going to Willow’s house. Another fact that threw me and still has my head spinning.

“So, these afterparties,” I say when we come to a stop at a red light.

She stiffens visibly in the passenger seat but she doesn’t respond.

“That's where you go, huh?”

She purses her lips and glares at the road. I know she knows what I mean, though. I don’t have to explain. All these years we’ve known that she works. She somehow makes all the rest of us feel like lazy, spoiled children because we don’t.

And then, after work, she always has some excuse for why she’s not joining up with us. I can practically hear April’s sighs as she talks about how lucky Savannah is with her rich, college boyfriends and her trips into the city to check out a club.

“So, you’re not off with some college guy,” I say. I want a reaction. I need one. “Not out with another crowd that's too cool for the likes of us…”

She ignores me, and from the way she’s staring straight ahead, her face pale and her hands…are they shaking? I don’t think she’s even listening. She looks like she’s being tortured.

I sigh. Fine. Whatever.

I’m curious, that’s all. But in the end, she’s still the same, right? This is the same Savannah who can’t even muster a thanks for saving her hide.

But once again, I’m back to wondering why. After watching her today, I’m finding it harder than ever to picture her stealing from the people who’ve hired her, or doing anything to get Mrs. Messner and the others in trouble.

I grip the wheel so hard it hurts.

The girl is a freakin’ riddle. And I wish I didn’t feel outright desperate to solve her. But there you have it. I am officially obsessed with figuring this girl out.

“Stop up here,” she says.

I do as I’m told, but it’s a weird place to stop. We’re on the edge of a trailer park. It’s small and I’ve seen it before, but I’ve never taken much notice.

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