“No prob. I’ll e-mail the girls when I get in.” She took out her cell and adjusted her calendar. Then she grinned, looking sideways at me. “I’m sure Aiden will appreciate a little more quality time with you anyway.”

  I swatted her shoulder. “Be quiet. Aiden gets plenty from me.” And he did. Except for the truth about where I’d been spending my nights. I swallowed hard and took the sim card from my cup holder and handed it to Kira. “Track down all the numbers on this,” I said. “I want the names of everyone Michael has been calling other than Caitlyn. Full report tomorrow.”

  “On it, Tess.”

  “And let me know what you see on the webcam.” She saluted me, and I slipped the car into reverse until I was in front of her building entryway. After all, it was three in the morning.

  “See you at school,” she said happily as she climbed out. She loved when I trusted her with evidence.

  I watched her blond curls flop around on her shoulders as she jogged to the front gate of her complex. She waved one last time and I waved back, mostly to encourage her. But the minute she was gone, my smile faded.

  Just once, I wanted not to confirm a cheat, to find at least one innocent guy. But so far, SOS subjects had been found guilty hundred percent of the time. It was tragic. And it was seriously impeding my perk.

  I sighed and shifted my car into gear before pulling onto the street, headed for my home in Murray Hills. With a quick check at my reflection, I straightened my frown and tried to look positive.

  It was possible. It was possible to find at least one innocent suspect. I was sure of it.

  SOS THE OFFICIAL HANDBOOK

  UPDATED:

  OUR MISSION STATEMENT: The mission of SOS (the Society of Smitten Kittens) is to make a positive difference in the dating lives of the girls at Washington High—primarily through investigation, client confidentiality, and inspirational cheer sets—all the while building the self-esteem, individuality, and confidence of the female population by providing a high standard of leadership, competence, and fabulous accessorizing.

  SMITTEN KITTEN CODE OF CONDUCT:

  ° Never be seen at the location of an investigation. Being covert means being invisible.

  ° Never leave a Smitten Kitten behind. When faced with exposure, use the predetermined escape routes and stay in formation.

  ° Always be upbeat and positive. School spirit is essential to success.

  ° Refrain from using any profane language. Smitten Kittens never cuss.

  ° Be on time for all practices, games, and SOS meetings and missions.

  ° Do not engage in any dating activities with a suspect. Making out with a suspect is bad form.

  ° Dress appropriately for all games and missions. Cheer skirts for games, spandex for practice, and black, drab outfits for missions.

  ° Although a Smitten Kitten is often privy to detailed encounters of the cheating variety, she must always maintain her class in and out of school. Never speak to anyone outside of SOS about the missions. If needed, an SOS-approved counselor can help with post-traumatic-SOS-disorder-related issues.

  THE LAWS:

  ° The Cheat—An official cheat requires the subject to be engaged in romantic or sexual activity with a person other than the client. These offenses include, but are not limited to, hand-holding, kissing, dirty talk, or any of the four bases.

  ° Double Jeopardy—We will never investigate the same subject twice for the same cheat. Once cleared or convicted, the subject is free to continue his inappropriate lifestyle without our supervision.

  ° Evidence—Each subject is innocent until proven cheating. To confirm the crime, more than one form of evidence must be provided to the client. This can include photos, audio or video surveillance, e-mails, eyewitness accounts, recovered items with fingerprints or DNA, or admission of guilt. Instincts and bad reputations do not count as evidence.

  ° Interference—Never interfere with a cheat in progress. Although it may be difficult to witness these crimes of passion, it’s the SOS responsibility to investigate without bias.

  ° Confidentiality—It is key to every mission to maintain the secrecy of the client and the SOS organization. Never engage a client or subject directly with collected evidence. All communication must be anonymous.

  DISCIPLINE : If a Smitten Kitten is caught breaking these rules, an official disciplinary form will be sent. The infractions could result in

  ° Verbal or written warnings

  ° Suspension of assignment

  ° Loss of cheer time

  ° Dismissal

  PAYMENT AND EQUIPMENT: SOS is a nonprofit organization. There is no charge for our services, and all proceeds from donations go directly toward equipment and other essential supplies, like uniforms. Only the president and treasurer have access to these funds.

  RESPONSIBILITIES: Smitten Kittens are expected to keep a cheerful attitude at all times. The SOS reputation is dependent on the squad’s conduct along with our success on missions.

  All Smitten Kittens are responsible for learning cheers, stunts, lock picking, wall scaling, equipment handling and maintenance, and herkies.

  Never let them see you sweat! Go, Smitten Kittens!

  CHAPTER TWO

  I CHECKED TO MAKE SURE THE DOUBLE DOORS OF the gymnasium were shut before crossing the wood floor to pause in front of my squad.

  “Kitten call to order,” I said, clapping. The Smitten Kittens were gathered on the front wooden bleacher, packing up their cheer gear. We’d just finished practice, and I was sweaty and exhausted. But we had business to attend to.

  “I need the double scoop. What’s the status report?” I asked Kira, readjusting my ponytail.

  “There’s over two hundred numbers on the sim card,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Who would have thought Michael Garnett had so many friends? He’s such a tool.”

  “Kira,” I scolded. “Be objective.”

  “Sorry.” She shrugged apologetically and then reached into her backpack to pull out a manila folder, setting it on her lap. “I’ve printed out the names, and I’m doing a run-through now. I’ll need another day.”

  “Great job, K. I’m totally impressed.”

  Leona groaned from the end of the bleacher, and Kira glanced over at her, beaming. Leona rolled her eyes.

  “Be nice,” I mouthed to Leona. “Now, what about the webcam?” She adjusted her glasses and looked down, checking her phone for the feed. “Nada. But that’s to be expected, Tess. He seems like a night perv.”

  I tsked. The squad had been very judgmental lately. I blamed the fact that we’d caught several of their boyfriends cheating on them in the past three months. Poor things. It was tragic, really.

  “I have something,” Izzie announced, twisting a red strand of her hair around a pen.

  I nodded to her, wondering if she’d found a crucial piece of evidence in Michael’s MySpace account. We would need at least two forms of cheater tracks to confirm the crime.

  Izzie pulled her ruby red lips into a smile and stood up. “Okay, so I was at the mall yesterday, and I saw this totally cute maroon warm-up suit that would be perfect for non-game days!” She bounced on her heels with excitement, eagerly waiting for our response.

  I stared at her. The other girls on the squad stopped what they were doing to turn to her. She stayed standing for a minute and then widened her eyes before sitting down on the bleacher. She shrugged and mumbled, “And I found dirty MySpace messages that were placed to Lisa Belgium. She and Michael have been sleeping together for, like, two months.”

  “Nice!” Leona called, clapping. “Now we just need the sim card info or the webcam images, and he’s busted! Get me all the files so I can draft the report and submit it for Tessa’s approval.”

  The girls started congratulating each other, happy to have uncovered another cheater, but I felt my face drain of color. Even though I’d known from the beginning that we’d probably catch Michael doing something, I’d still hoped that the accusation was
n’t true. I always did.

  But nothing ever changed. One hundred percent guilty. Just like always.

  I wrapped my arms around myself and walked over to the bleachers to pick up my cheerleading gear. My school spirit was compromised.

  “Meeting adjourned,” I said quietly, and headed for the double doors of the gymnasium. I needed Aiden. He always knew how to cheer me up.

  I pushed back into my soft, pink pillows, staring at the lean muscles of Aiden’s arm as he held my leg. “You should have been there,” I said, reaching down to run my fingers over his skin. “Izzie caught me in the hall and was like—”

  “Tessa,” Aiden said, getting a better position on the edge of my bed. “Will you stop wiggling?”

  “Oh, sorry. But I just think—”

  “I know, baby. You’re always thinking. Can I please finish?” He smiled, his green eyes sparkling deviously.

  “Okay.”

  He exhaled and picked my foot back up, using the brush of the pink passion nail polish to go over my pinky toe. It might seem odd that my boyfriend loved to paint my toenails, but I thought it was sweet. After two years, he’d actually gotten really good at it. Way better than I was. And why pay some stranger to torture me with a pedicure every few weeks when Aiden liked to do it as foreplay? He was so cute like that.

  “Finished,” he said, blowing on my foot before laying it in his lap. He closed the bottle and set it on my rosewood side table. Then he leaned over to kiss my ankle. When his warm mouth touched my skin, a shiver ran up my leg.

  “Thanks.” I licked my lips. He was absolutely, mind-blowingly adorable.

  His eyes narrowed as he kissed lightly at my shin, then my knee. Even in the gloomy November weather, his skin was tan. Set that against his green eyes and tousled blond hair, and the boy was pure eye candy. But he never noticed when other girls checked him out. He never noticed anyone but me.

  When we’d started dating, he was already super-tall and sort of awkward. Some of the older girls on the squad even thought he was beneath me, totally average. But I knew, even back before his increasingly sexy biceps, that Aiden would be more than the star of the basketball team. He was perfect for me. We were, well, partners. Neither one of us ruled the other. It was a give-and-take. We—

  “Mm ...” I loved when he caressed my leg like that. I closed my eyes, adjusting my position and staring at my ceiling fan as it swirled. My nail polish would undoubtedly be ruined in a few minutes. It always got ruined. Luckily, I wore sneakers 95 percent of the time.

  Aiden’s hands slid up, pausing on my hips. I nestled back into my fluffy white comforter. My parents wouldn’t be home for hours. One of the perks of having musical parents was that their nights were spent in lounges, leaving tons of free time for Aiden ... or SOS. Either way, it was still way better than having a mom that worked for H&R Block—poor Aiden.

  “Can you leave this on?” he mumbled into my thigh, touching the hem of my skirt.

  I laughed, reaching down to push his hands away. “I’m not wearing my uniform so you can act out some boyhood fantasy yet again.”

  “Please? It’s so fucking hot.”

  “Aiden, don’t talk like that.”

  “Sorry, baby. It’s so freaking hot.”

  He knew I’d agree. I always did. I mean, there was a reason I kept three extra maroon and gray skirts in my closet, even if this one was my favorite. My boyfriend could be very persuasive.

  “Afterward, I get to talk about whatever I want,” I said. Aiden usually preferred a nap to listening to my latest cheerleading drama, but this was important! Izzie had a new cheer!

  The bed shifted as Aiden crawled up and stretched his long body next to mine, leaning over to kiss my neck. “Mm-hm.”

  “And then you have to repaint my nails.”

  “Okay.”

  “And—”

  He pressed his mouth to mine. He knew how to shut me up.

  “Aiden,” I whispered, twisting his hair with my finger.

  “What?” he mumbled. He’d been lying facedown on the bed, totally passed out.

  “You have to go home. Your mom’s going to freak.” I leaned down and kissed his earlobe. It was close to ten, and he’d been at my house since I’d gotten home from practice.

  “Can’t I stay here?”

  He knew he couldn’t, but it didn’t stop him from asking every time—not that my parents would care. They adored him. In fact, my father called him “son.” My parents even decorated signs to hold up at the games. Signs that said things like, “The Wildcats Can’t Be Caged” or “Growl Till It Hurts.” Yes. They were those people.

  “Your mother is going to call here in, like, five minutes.” I really didn’t want him to go. I lifted his arm and snuggled up next to him, breathing his natural, athletic scent. Even though the physicality of our relationship was a recent development, it was quickly becoming my favorite part. Especially when we got to do this afterward. I held him a little tighter.

  “Mm,” he said sleepily, turning to wrap his other arm around me. “But I like it better at your house.”

  I stared at him. He was so handsome. His eyes were closed as his face rested on the pillow, but there was the hint of a smile on his lips. He knew I was watching him.

  “What?” he whispered, his eyes still shut.

  “I just love you.”

  “I know you do, baby.” He opened one eye to look at me. “Give me a kiss.”

  Leaning over, I pecked his lips.

  “And another,” he breathed. I giggled.

  The phone rang and we paused, still connected at the mouth.

  “Told you,” I mumbled into his lips.

  He groaned, reaching up to rest his palm on my cheek. Aiden adored me. He absolutely worshipped me. But he still had to go home. I was pretty sure his mother couldn’t stand me. She might have been suffering from a case of cheerleader envy.

  I kissed him again quickly and sat up. He rolled onto his back, grabbing his T-shirt from the side table. He slid it over his head as the phone rang its third warning call. I raised one eyebrow at him.

  “Tell her I left five minutes ago?” he asked, tilting his head.

  I nodded and scooted down the bed. She wouldn’t believe me; I always told her the five-minute story. Walking into the hallway, I grabbed the cordless off the wall and pressed it to my ear. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Aiden streak by, dashing to the door. Even though he pretended not to be, I knew he was terrified of his mother. I would be too.

  “Hello?” I asked in my sweetest voice.

  “Tessa?”

  It was Kira, and she sounded awful—totally choked up.

  I jetted my glance toward the direction Aiden ran, but I heard the front door close, signaling his hasty exit. He’d be away at college next year, but we’d still be strawberry smoothie. Washington State University wasn’t all that far, and with a dorm room in his immediate future, there would be sleepovers. My senior year was going to rock.

  “Are you there?” Kira whimpered.

  Oh, right. “What’s wrong, K? And why are you calling on my house phone?”

  “Because I’m a mess! He cheated!”

  My stomach flipped. “Who?”

  “Darren cheated.”

  “Cheated, like how? At Scrabble?”

  “No!” She sniffled back some thick-sounding snot. I cringed. “Tessa, my boyfriend cheated on me! And we didn’t know about it!”

  My eyes widened. Wait, that wasn’t possible. We knew about every cheater. The SOS team was constantly updating the possible cheater roster (or as I liked to call it, the Naughty List), and Darren was definitely not on it. No one got by the Society of Smitten Kittens. Especially not one of our boyfriends!

  “Who’s the girl?” I asked, tapping my bare foot on the carpet.

  “Charlie Meyers.”

  “Whoa. His ex-girlfriend?” This was a disturbing development. It should have been obvious because guys always cheated with their exes. It was practica
lly a given.

  “That’s the one.” Her voice became little more than a high-pitched dog whistle. I closed one eye and clenched my teeth as I listened.

  She tried to regain her composure. “Kara’s cousin’s girlfriend saw them in the parking lot of the Windmill hotel—”

  “Ew. The one where you pay by the hour?” My mouth flooded with a familiar metallic taste: adrenaline.

  “I know!” Her sounds came out in a guttural moan. “And it wasn’t even a Sheraton! I totally thought Darren had better taste than that!”

  Now I was seriously PO’d. Darren was Aiden’s best friend and the power forward of the Wildcats. Next to Aiden, he was our leading scorer. Well, next to Aiden, he was our only scorer. That deserved R-E-S-P-E-C-T.

  “What are we going to do?” she whined. “Every guy we’ve investigated has been guilty. Every one! And look at us. None of us even have boyfriends anymore.” She sniffled. “We’ve become a squad of widows.”

  “Widows are the spouses of people who have died, K.”

  She gasped. “My word! That is so sad!”

  Even though I felt awful for Kira, she was wrong. One of us did still have a boyfriend. Me.

  “Wait.” She sighed. “Never mind, you have Aiden. You’re the only Smitten Kitten that hasn’t been cheated on.”

  Somehow that thought made me uncomfortable.

  “Oh, no!” she said loud enough to make me jump. “I won’t be able to go to prom!”

  Kira dissolved into hysterical sobs. As I tried to soothe her, I spun around, still clad in a slightly wrinkled cheerleading skirt. The heater kicked on, and when I felt the warm breeze on my legs, I looked down.