Games We Play Read online

  Games We Play

  Thistle Cove

  Angel Lawson

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Untitled

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Epilogue

  Afterword

  1

  Ozzy

  “Who wants to read the first chapter?” Mrs. Gimple asks. For some reason, our AP Lit teacher is convinced that by forcing us to read aloud, we pay more attention. She’s wrong. Listening to Walker Lewis fumble around Victorian English is mind-numbing.

  Lucky for me, I have the perfect distraction. I sit right behind the girl I’m falling for, Kenley Keene, and count the freckles sprinkled on the back of her neck. Weeks ago, when school first started, it was warm which allowed for more skin to be revealed, but now fall has hit, bringing out layers and skin covering clothes. It’s a bummer, at least in AP Lit. When we’re alone, she lets me see a little bit more of that creamy, pale flesh.

  A cough breaks my daydreaming, and I glance over at Ezra Baxter, school rich boy and delinquent. He’s also my friend? Ally? Partner in what Kenley would call a “non-traditional, consensual, ethical, non-monogamous relationship.”

  His eyebrow shoots up suggestively, revealing that he definitely knows what I’m looking at and thinking about.

  I shift in my seat, eyes scanning the room. After the memorial, Finn moved from his old seat, taking the one next to Kenley. The name Holloway stretches across the back of his jersey. He holds his dog-eared copy of Moby Dick in his hand, glancing over at Kenley every few seconds, like he’s trying to make sure she’s real.

  It’s a valid reaction. He waited years to express his feelings to her and only did after his ex-girlfriend went missing. I’d be paranoid, too.

  “It is not down on any map. True places never are—” Dave Reynolds reads. His next words are cut off by static echoing through the room.

  “Excuse the interruption, teachers and students,” Mr. Russell says over the intercom. “Please turn on your televisions for a special live-stream from our Student Government president.” I glance over and see the empty seat across the room. Juliette Chandler didn’t come to class today. Seems like she had class president duties to perform.

  Mrs. Gimple flips on the TV and a moment later Juliette Chandler’s face fills the screen. Her long, red hair hangs over her shoulders. “Fellow Vikings! Homecoming will be here in ten days! Our theme this year is One Hundred Years of Thistle Grove High, in celebration of our centennial celebration. We’ll have our traditional float building, parade, and the big game next Friday night. The dance is on Saturday—tickets available in the cafeteria! We do have one important change,” her tone shifts, turning softer, “as you all know, my very best friend and class leader, Rose Waller, is tragically no longer with us. Rose was a shoo-in for homecoming queen, and it feels terribly awkward to replace her so soon after her death.” She takes a deep breath and adds, “Because of that, we’ve decided not to have a court this year and instead dedicate the night to celebrate the past queens of Thistle Cove High.”

  She continues on, announcing the locations of float building for each class, information about the dance and whatever else she can to do capture the school’s attention for as long as possible. One thing catches my attention; I look at Ezra.

  “Did your dad really volunteer your house for float building?” Float building is a huge Thistle Cove tradition. Seven straight days of tissue paper rolling, cardboard cutting, and chicken wire molding. The classes are highly competitive, to the point that some years the kids attempted to destroy the other floats. Two years ago, the seniors' float was doused in gasoline. The offending class was disqualified, causing a major upset. After that, Principal Russell made it clear that any sabotage would result in suspension.

  “Yeah,” Ezra says, leaning back in his seat. “His family hosted his senior year. The homecoming game was the night they clinched region.” His eyes flick to Finn. “He’s hoping that if we recreate events, the fates will look down on us and we can win again and head to state.”

  Kenley laughs. “I didn’t know your dad was that superstitious.”

  The guys both shake their heads. “Everything about sports is superstition,” Finn says, “from socks and underwear, to pre-game rituals. Coach Chandler’s been driving us nuts the past few weeks. Every win we have, every good play, he takes notes of the circumstances around it and tries to replicate it.”

  “I think everyone in Thistle Cove has lost their minds.”

  Since Rose died, she doesn’t say, but the implication is there.

  The town has changed since she vanished. We’ve changed, which is exactly why people like Coach Chandler and Ezra’s dad and even Juliette will do anything to get it back on track.

  2

  Kenley

  It’s been a month since Rose died, but that doesn’t keep everyone in school from watching me and Finn walk down the hall.

  It’s probably fair. We didn’t speak for three years, and my “break-up” with Rose was well known. What wasn’t as well-known is Finn and Rose’s break-up was two days before she vanished and allegedly took her life. That information has been kept quiet for Finn and Rose’s sake. This is why, even though it’s obvious Finn and I are friends now, we keep it like that in public. Just friends.

  None of these people know the lines we cross when we’re alone.

  But the looks, the glares and stares, the curiosity makes me think they wonder exactly what’s going on.

  “Have you talked to her at all?” Finn asks while we’re standing at my locker before lunch. It’s obvious who he’s talking about. Alice Kendrick, my other former best friend.

  “No. I’m still not okay with how she threw you under the bus like that.” Among other things. Alice is loyal and fun. She’s also hella jealous of anyone that I get close to, which is why she went out of her way to show a video of Rose and Finn fighting across the street from her family’s ice cream parlor, hoping it would ruin his reputation. I feel bad for her, but there’s no way I’m letting her get between me and the boys.

  “She looks rough.”

  I glance over my shoulder and see Alice at her locker across the hall. Her hair, that she usually dyes fun, vibrant colors is washed out, with brown roots showing at the top. Her skin is pale and the bags under her eyes are noticeable.

  “You and Alice were never friends. Why are you worried about her all of a sudden?” I ask.

  “You’re a good person and friend, not like,” he grimaces, “other people we know—or knew—if you’re truly upset with her and need some space that’s fine, but don’t do it on account of me. I’m okay.”

  I look into Finn’s brilliant green eyes and feel his truth and compassion. For too long he was tied up in Rose’s anger and pettiness. “I’ll get over it,” I say, “but I need space for a little while longer
.”

  “Understood.”

  I grab my lunch and close my locker door. When I face him again, he’s staring at my lips. My stomach flips, dying for a kiss, but there’s no way that’s going to happen. Not in public. But tonight? When we meet outside our windows on the rooftop? I’m gonna kiss the hell out of that mouth.

  Since the first three weeks of the year had everyone occupied with Rose’s disappearance, it felt like we were behind in everything. Tests and homework piled on, and I’d severely neglected my yearbook duties.

  “I’m sure you all heard the announcement this morning about the centennial celebration,” I tell my small staff that afternoon. Besides Ozzy and Alice, who surprisingly showed up although she’s sitting in the back corner alone, there are eight other kids. Several are underclassmen, but Bryant McMillian and Sadie Upton are also seniors. “The school has asked that we follow this theme with the yearbook.”

  “How do they want to do that?” Sadie asks.

  “I came up with a few ideas,” I reply. “The yearbook committee has kept pretty good archives through the years. We’ve got photos going back to the 1920s. The school has lists of alumni that we can use. I’ve been thinking we can add pages in each section with photos and small interviews with alumni—doing a small comparison with how things are now. Similar photos, clothing, cars, the floats…that kind of thing.”

  “That sounds cool,” Bryant says, pushing up his glasses. “I don’t mind going through the archives.”

  Sadie nods. “I’ll reach out to alumni and see who would like to be interviewed.”

  “Great,” I say, feeling relieved it’s all coming together. “Ozzy, will you do the interviews? You’re our best writer.”

  “Sure.”

  “If you didn’t get an extra assignment,” I say to the others, “don’t worry. We still have to put together our normal yearbook with class photos, clubs and everything else. There’s plenty to do.”

  There’s twenty minutes left in class, and everyone splits to their regular assignments. I head to the small office in the back corner—a perk of being the editor. I sit down and open my laptop, going to the photos that I’d already taken that year. It’s best if I process them quickly and archive the ones we don’t need. A tap on the door draws my attention.

  Alice stands in the doorway in her favorite pair of jeans that have strategically placed holes—keeping her from getting dress-coded.

  “Hey,” she says.

  “Do you need something?” It came across colder than I meant.

  “I just wanted you to know that my dad said he’d buy a full page ad for the ice cream shop again this year.”

  “That’s great,” I say, digging through the stacks of paper on my desk. I find the sheet I’m looking for. “If he’ll fill this out, that would be awesome.”

  She takes it but doesn’t leave.

  “I want to apologize for all the stuff that went down a few weeks ago. I shouldn’t have handled it that way.”

  Turning in a video of Finn and Rose fighting that she thought would get him in trouble—just to keep him away from me. “No, you shouldn’t have. You withheld information until you thought it would hurt Finn the most—and me. That’s not fair to anyone.”

  “I know,” she looks over her shoulder to see if anyone is listening. “It was selfish and petty. I was so scared of losing you again.”

  “Losing me to who?”

  “Finn. Ozzy. God, even Ezra Baxter is back in your orbit. There’s never been room for all of us together.”

  “That’s not my fault,” I tell her. “You’re the one that doesn’t mix friends.”

  “I just don’t know what you see in them. Especially Finn. He hurt you.”

  “There may have been some confusion about Finn’s involvement with the prank.”

  She starts to roll her eyes but stops herself. “You believe that.”

  “I do.”

  She bites down on her tongue. “I want us to still be friends.”

  “I do too,” I say, even though I’m not sure. “But you have to accept that there will be other people in my life—including Finn.”

  “What if he hurts you again?”

  “I’m a big girl Alice, I can handle it.”

  A tap on the door forces us to look over. Ozzy, with his trademark black cap tugged over his ears, squeezes in the space next to Alice.

  “Got a minute?”

  My eyes dart to Alice. “You’ll give that form to your dad?”

  She frowns, realizing she’s been dismissed. I don’t trust her around anyone else right now.

  “I’ll give it to him,” she says, exiting the room.

  I look back at Ozzy. “What’s up?”

  “I’m thinking there’s an elephant in the yearbook room.” He sits on the edge of the desk, facing me.

  “What are you talking about? What elephant?” I frown. “Do you mean Alice? Because—”

  “No, not Alice, although I’m curious to know what you two were talking about…but I’m thinking there’s no way we don’t get away without having some kind of special page for Rose.”

  “Ah, right. Yeah. I’ve been thinking the same thing.”

  “Any idea how we should handle it?”

  “I’m not sure I feel comfortable taking the lead on this, not after everything that went down.” He nods in agreement. “I guess we should talk to her parents? See if they have any ideas on what they’d like?”

  “I’m not sure they’d want to be reminded their only daughter didn’t get to celebrate all the milestones.”

  I think about it. “I’m sure Juliette would have opinions.”

  “Oh, I’m sure.” I sigh and tap my fingers on the desk. “It’s not something we have to figure out today, but you’re right, it is something we need to prepare for.”

  He looks down on me and just being near him makes me a little shaky. He takes a quick glance toward the classroom, then leans forward, kissing me quick across the lips. The result is a burst of warm, a tingling sensation that travels across my body. My first instinct is to grab him and kiss him again, but we both pull back, knowing that if anyone caught us there’d be hell to pay.

  “That’s going to get us in trouble.”

  He smiles, crooked and smug. “It was worth it.”

  For him maybe, but we’re playing with fire—really, I’m playing with three boys at once, and if anyone at school finds out, we’ll never hear the end of it. Thistle Cove is a small school in a small town that thrives on gossip and scandal. One girl in a relationship with three boys?

  It doesn’t get more scandalous than that.

  “Juliette,” I call, racing to catch up with her after school as she’s walking out the backdoor to the athletic fields.

  She pauses, halfway through the door, looking back at me in confusion. To her credit she waits for me to catch up before walking outside.

  “I want to talk to you about something we’re thinking of doing for the yearbook,” I tell her. “A memorial page for Rose—a few photos, memories, that kind of thing.”

  She keeps walking. “Why are you talking to me about it?”

  “Well, you’re taking the lead on the homecoming stuff—the halftime program—I figured maybe you’d want some input on this.”

  We wait for the cross-country team to run past us on the track. The football team is already out on the field. I see Coach Chandler and Ezra’s dad talking by the fifty-yard line.

  “That homecoming thing is not my idea,” she says once the track is clear. “The Wallers are the ones that pushed for that. They couldn’t bear to think of someone else wearing their precious daughter’s crown.”

  “Continuing the myth,” I say, more to myself than to her. “The school loved her so much they stopped homecoming.”

  “Yes, upholding the myth, but it also provides an opportunity. I think we all know it’s going to turn into the Brice Waller for Mayor halftime show.” She’s walking so fast I can barely keep up. I reach for her
and grab her arm, forcing her to slow.

  “Basically, they’re taking the crown from you, because another thing we all know is that you would’ve won.”

  “It’s not a big deal, really.” She sighs. “They’re right. She would have won—even if she didn’t want it.”

  I frown. “What?”

  She tightens her ponytail. “Oh yeah, Rose had this big plan to refuse the nomination when she got it. She thought all this stuff was lame. I think she spent half of float building last year high. She would be so pissed to know her parents are doing this. Even gone, she can’t get out from her father’s controlling thumb.”

  “Juliette,” I lower my voice, “I know you don’t want to talk about the account—”

  “Kenley,” she says in warning. “How you stumbled onto that account, I’ll never know, she barely even told me about it. In fact, she didn’t tell me about it until I had to go pick her up after a date from hell one night and forced her into explaining what was going on.” She holds my eye. “Like I told you before, you’re messing with something dangerous, leave it alone.”

  “What’s so dangerous?”

  “People’s reputations, which,” she takes a step back, “we all know can be more important than anything else.”

  She starts to walk away, and I call out, “So you’re telling me you don’t care about the page in the yearbook?”

  She turns and replies, “Just run any of my photos by me before you publish. I don’t want to be immortalized looking like shit.”