Page 45 of The Players

He pulled out, leaving me standing in the parking lot to watch him go, feeling more confused than I’d been before.

***

“The FBI?” Randy asked, her eyebrows in her mop of hair. It was pulled back in a leopard print headband that matched her pants. “That’s some serious shit right there.”

Hector nodded. “I couldn’t find anything about her being investigated by the FBI on any of the websites I checked. Whoever is covering up for her has serious high-up connections. That or Spencer’s flat-out lying.”

The four of us were back at the gazebo, gathered on benches as the sun made the sky orange in the distance. With Halloween over and the weather cooling down, the park was sparsely populated by a couple walking their Goldendoodle and two teenagers on the swings sharing a cigarette. The air smelled like fallen leaves.

I pulled my sweater tighter around my shoulders as if that could cut the chill. However my shaking might be more about the plan than the fall weather. If we were getting ourselves into something that could involve the FBI, then the situation was more serious than I’d suspected. Once again, I questioned whether I should have brought any of them into this.

“Look,” I said, running my hands through my hair, “we know what we need to do: humiliate Savannah using one or more of the pieces of information we’ve been given.”

Hector shook his head. “We don’t have real information though, do we? We know she’s had DUIs that have been scrubbed. We think she got in some trouble with the FBI, but we have no evidence. Honestly, we have nothing.”

I frowned, the frustration simmering in my gut. “You were a Waverly Academy Lord, Hector. You five were known for your humiliation. How is it that when I need you to come up with something, you come up blank?”

It was harsh, and I knew it, but I was running out of time and patience. The hurt look he gave me, though, made me realize I’d gone too far.

“I’m sorry,” I said, and Hector nodded that he’d heard and forgiven me, though his clenched hands seemed to tell a different story.

“I just don’t know what to do,” I whispered.

“We could dump pig’s blood on her likeCarrie,” Randy offered.

“Seems amateurish,” Lowell added, his first contribution other than smoking cigarettes and looking like a pensive badass in his leather jacket and steel-toed boots.

“You have any ideas?” I asked him.

I expected him to wave a hand or blow smoke into the air as his way of saying he would let the thinking pass to us, but he looked at me while stubbing out his cigarette, a sign he was ready to get down to business.

“I do have an idea,” he said, his eyes glimmering, “but I’m not sure you’re going to like it. It’s…” he paused to think of the right word, “brutal.”

I glanced at Hector and then at Randy.

“I hate to say it,” I replied with a sigh, “but we don’t have a lot of time. We might need to fight fire with fire this time.”

Lowell’s face broke into an insidious smile, one that made me shiver all over again. “I was hoping you were going to say that. Now listen closely.”

Chapter nineteen

“Iseverythingready?”Randyasked.

I stopped wringing my hands long enough to meet Randy’s gaze. I had to admit she looked stunning in the Homecoming dress we’d picked out at the mall. Hers was royal blue, short, and sassy with a matching hair bow and strappy shoes. Mine was an emerald green, floor-length dress with a slit up my thigh that made my progressive grandmother blush. We certainly looked the part of Homecoming Dance attendees, but there was another reason we were standing in a line outside Waverly Academy on a Saturday night, shivering and sweating at the same time.

Tonight was the night we were going to take Savannah down.

Or, rather, try to take Savannah down. I had my doubts we could pull off this prank and completely humiliate her to the point where she’d decide to never return to the Academy ever again.

Savannah was tough. It would take a lot to break her. If anyone would know that, it was me.

We’d worked hard, concocting a plan that seemed both foolproof and doable. Hector and Lowell were in on it too, using their connections and talents to secure the missing pieces to bring everything together. We’d decided that the Homecoming Dance was the place for it to go down. Sure, it had majorCarrievibes, but we needed an event where the humiliation could happen in front of the school population. We needed her to feel like she couldn’t show her face on school grounds again.

The dance seemed like the perfect place, including the lack of chaperones and supervision we needed to orchestrate things. Doing this on school grounds ran the risk of getting in trouble with administration, but we’d gone over those scenarios too, figuring out the best way to avoid detection. Savannah might suspect it was us, but if we left no real proof, how could we get in trouble?

Still, my stomach churned as the line inched closer and closer to the entrance. The night was calm and clear, allowing the balloon arch the party planning committee made to stand perfectly still. Principal Monroe and Mr. Tanner, our school's art teacher, sat at a table at the front. They were going through students’ bags and giving them the once over for alcohol or other illicit substances. We’d thought that over also, stashing items in the school ahead of time when there was less scrutiny.

“Vivian, you need to chill,” Randy said, whispering into my ear while also squeezing my elbow. “You look like you’re about to confess to murder.” She bugged her eyes out at me and shook my arm one more time.

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