“They had really good beer—not the usual swill—and everybody was swimming, and then Autumn jumped in the pool and her top fell off and she didn’t care. She didn’t even bother to put it back on!—that’s how blissed out everybody was—and—”
“Okay, you can stop now.” Holly gave Lina a mock-mean glare. “So, I guess I can’t count on you for the scoop.”
“I just didn’t want you to feel bad,” Lina said.
“I know,” Holly said. “It’s really my own fault that I missed the best party of the year and stayed up all night reading about the Grand Duchess Anastasia. I can’t let Julia push me around. This has got to stop.”
16
Elvira Confesses
To: linaonme
From: your daily horoscope
HERE IS TODAY’S HOROSCOPE: CANCER: You may think you’ve found the truth, but don’t be so sure. Your search for truth ends when I say so, and not before. Got it?
Why are you doing this to me?” Lina finallly found Ramona at her locker at the end of the day.
“Doing what?” Ramona asked, smoothing the Donald Death poster inside her locker before slamming the door shut.
“Stop denying it,” Lina said. “I know it was you.”
“Are you talking about that Elvira thing? I told you already it wasn’t me. I told Mads, too. You don’t need to sic your dopey friends on me trying to spook the truth out of me.”
Lina sighed. Why was Ramona being so stubborn? Usually she was proud of her sneaky, conniving mind.
“Listen, Ramona,” Lina said. “Please, just admit what you did. Walker is still angry about it. No matter what I say, he thinks I’m Elvira. And he won’t listen to me. But if I can tell him who was really behind the whole thing, and convince him that I had nothing to do with it, maybe he’ll forgive me. And then we can be friends again. Don’t you see how important this is?”
“I do see,” Ramona said. “But I didn’t do it.”
Lina slumped against the tiny metal lockers. “I wish I could believe you,” she said. “But I just can’t think of anyone else who had the ability and the motive to commit the crime. There’s no one but you.”
“That can’t be true,” Ramona said. “There must be someone else, because I’m not Elvira!”
“Come on, Ramona, stop it,” Lina said. She could tell Ramona was lying. She exhibited all the signs: nervousness, lack of eye contact, constant brushing of hair out of eyes. Of course, she did that all the time, but still. Why didn’t she just confess?
“I’m going to tell Walker on you, anyway,” Lina said. “So you might as well come clean.”
Ramona pressed her back against the lockers and picked at a rip in her Spanish workbook.
“You really like him, don’t you,” she said.
“Yes, I do,” Lina said. “Even though he doesn’t like me right now. I’m trying to change that.”
“All right,” Ramona said. “I admit it. I wrote that mean X-Rating. I’m Elvira.”
Lina grimaced. “Why did you wait so long to confess?” she asked.
“I guess I just thought I’d hide behind the character I created,” Ramona said.
“I know you were trying to help,” Lina said. “But you totally screwed everything up. You’ve got to find Walker right now and explain everything.”
“Can’t I do it tomorrow?” Ramona asked.
“He’s at the pool covering a swim meet,” Lina said. “Go on, just get it over with. The sooner you tell him you’re Elvira, the sooner he’ll forgive me.”
“I swear I’ll do it later,” Ramona said. “I don’t feel like going to the Swim Center. Chlorine gives me a terrible headache—”
“Quit stalling.” Lina grabbed Ramona by the back of her army jacket and started pulling her down the hall. Ramona was trying to squirm out of an unpleasant duty, and Lina was determined to make sure she confessed. “I’ll take you to him myself, just to be sure you don’t pull some other trick—like trying to blame all this on Autumn or somebody.” Ramona was not one of Autumn’s biggest fans.
“It would be funny if we told him Autumn did it,” Ramona said. “And then Walker would be mad at her, and she would be mad at you, and the chain reaction could lead to a huge explosion!”
“No.” Lina marched Ramona out of the main building, down the path leading to the gym, and into the Swim Center. Walker was sitting in the bleachers watching the team warm up for a meet.
“Walker, Ramona has something to say to you.” Lina shoved Ramona in front of Walker. He looked up at Ramona, then Lina, surprised and annoyed.
“What now?” he said.
Lina gave Ramona a little pinch. That was her cue to start talking.
“Walker, I have to tell you something,” Ramona said.
“I know,” Walker said. “Lina just said that.”
“Um, okay.” Ramona glanced longingly at the swimmers in the pool as if she wished she could jump in, clothes and all, and swim away. “You know that X-Rating that said all those terrible things about you and Flynn?”
Walker’s eyes darkened, and his back straightened. “Yes?”
“Well, the first and most important thing you should know is, Lina didn’t write it. She had nothing to do with it. Really.”
“And—” Lina coached, egging her on.
“And, anyway—not that you’d care or anything—but I wrote it. I made it all up. Including the name Elvira. Who is me.” She stopped to check Walker’s reaction. The look on his face was stony. She instinctively shrank back from him. “So I’m sorry. Okay? I’m really sorry. Please forgive Lina. It’s all my fault!”
“Really? It’s all your fault?” Walker said icily. “Why would you do something like that? What would you have to gain from it?”
“Well, nothing personally, but Lina is my friend, and I care about her, and I did a tarot card reading one night and the cards said that you and Lina are made for each other, so you might as well stop fighting it and forgive Lina for whatever it is you’re mad at her about.”
“A tarot card reading?” Walker snorted. “Stop jerking me around, Ramona. You, too, Lina. You probably put Ramona up to this. You either made her confess to writing it when you really did, or you made her write it for you. Either way, the real mastermind here is you. Isn’t it?”
“What are you talking about?” Lina cried. “Mastermind? You know, you’re making a bigger deal out of this than—”
A whistle blew, and the meet began. “Excuse me, girls, but I have a meet to cover,” Walker said.
Lina ran out of the Swim Center, Ramona at her heels. “Can you believe him?” Lina cried. “Even after you confessed to everything, he’s still mad at me! I didn’t do anything!”
“You know, that was true what I said about the tarot cards,” Ramona said. “They really did say you guys were meant for each other.”
“What?” Lina snapped. “Shut up. That’s the last thing I want to hear right now. I’m so pissed!”
“Maybe he doesn’t want to be friends with you,” Ramona said.
“That’s fine with me,” Lina said. “If he doesn’t want to be friends, then neither do I. There, it’s official. Walker and I are no longer friends!”
17
The Mystery of 1972
To: mad4u
From: your daily horoscope
HERE IS TODAY’S HOROSCOPE: VIRGO: The answers are out there, but you won’t find them on the Home Shopping Network.
Mads hopped on her bike and headed to the town library. She’d spent the morning searching the online archives of the Crier for old articles about Rosewood. She hoped there might be something in the history of the school that would help her case when she presented it to the parents’ board.
And she thought she’d found something. She had to go all the way back to 1972, but there were a few obscure references to some kind of fight or scandal at RSAGE involving the students and self-expression. The paper didn’t say exactly what had happened, but it did mention that the entire senio
r class got detention. So it must have been big.
The Carlton Bay Public Library had a collection of yearbooks for every school in the area, dating back to the late nineteenth century. Mads hoped the 1972 yearbook might give her a clue about the scandal. She skimmed the long row of rose-colored yearbook spines, The Garden Gate, year after year after year. What had happened in 1972 that would cause the whole class to get detention? She ran her finger through the seventies—’70, ’71, ’73 … Where was 1972?
Someone must have checked it out, Mads thought. She went to the librarian’s desk to find out.
“No, the yearbooks are reference,” the librarian said. “No one is allowed to check them out. Which issue is missing?”
’The Rosewood Garden Gate, 1972,” Mads said.
“Oh. You know, it’s funny, but we don’t have that year,” the librarian said. ‒The school never gave the library a copy of it.”
“Do you know why?” Mads asked. The librarian was in her thirties, Mads guessed—too young to have been in high school in 1972.
She shook her head. “No, I have no idea. We simply don’t have it. Maybe the students didn’t issue a yearbook that year? A lot of weird things happened in those days, especially with students. You know: protests, upheaval, lots of changes. …”
“I read something in an old issue of the Crier about a scandal at Rosewood that year,” Mads said. “I was hoping to find out more about it.”
The librarian shrugged. “Well, all I can tell you is, try the school library. Or Rosewood’s records room, in the basement of the library. They might have a copy of the missing yearbook, or something on file that explains what happened.”
“Thanks.” Mads sat down at a carrel to think about this. No yearbook for one year, and one year only? Could that have been a punishment for whatever it was that the seniors did that year? It was very strange.
There’s a story here, Mads thought. There’s something to this—I just know it. I’ve got to find that yearbook.
18
Are You a Pushover?
To: hollygolitely
From: your daily horoscope
HERE IS TODAY’S HOROSCOPE: CAPRICORN: Someone is bringing out your inner wimp, and it’s not a pretty sight.
Julia, I have to talk to you about something,” Holly said. She sat in the Safrans’ kitchen while Julia flipped through her wedding planner notebook.
“I have so much to talk to you about, too,” Julia said. “Do you think the bridesmaids should wear heels or flats? Deirdre is pretty tall—she’ll tower over all the ushers in heels—but on the other hand—”
“Julia, wait,” Holly said. “I love helping you with your wedding and everything—”
“Do you? I’m so glad. Because I love doing it with you. Imagine if I had to do this all by myself? I’d lose my mind! But also, it wouldn’t be nearly as much fun.”
Holly took a deep breath and tried again. “It is fun, but the thing is, I’ve got other stuff to do, and I don’t have much time to help you now. We’ve gotten a lot done already, and Deirdre and Bethany are here. Don’t you think you could handle the rest without me?”
Julia was finally quiet, and Holly suddenly wished she’d start babbling again. She stared at Holly with hurt in her round brown eyes.
“But I’m having so much fun with you,” Julia said. “Aren’t you?”
“Sure, I am,” Holly said. “It’s just that I’m so busy myself. Don’t you remember what high school is like? It’s getting toward the end of the semester. I’ve got big projects to work on, and one of my best friends just got suspended because of our blog. I’m getting testimonials from dozens of kids trying to clear her name, and on top of that, there are parties and family stuff—”
“It’s just—I’m afraid,” Julia said. “This is one of the biggest moments of my life. I want you to be part of it. You have such awesome taste. You always know what you like, and you’re always right. If I have to choose between crab cakes or mini hot dogs, I get paralyzed. I—I need your opinion, that’s all. Please, Holly—I need you.”
Holly simply didn’t want to do wedding stuff anymore. But she didn’t know how to say it without hurting Julia.
“Hello, girls.” Mrs. Safran shuffled into the kitchen in her robe and slippers. “I thought I’d make some tea.”
She put a kettle on the stove and said, “Holly, I’m glad you’re here. I just wanted to thank you for all you’ve done for Julia. You have no idea how much it means to her, to me—to all of us.”
Holly took a quavery breath. Oh, god.
“I’m sure you’re aware that we’re all going through a—a transition period,” Mrs. Safran said. Holly nodded and looked down at the table. Julia took her hand. Mrs. Safran took the other hand. “And having you around has been just wonderful. It’s so good for Rob. And I’ve felt terrible that I haven’t been able to help Julia plan her big day as much as I’d like. But knowing you’re here with her makes it easier.” She squeezed Holly’s hand. “We all love you so much. It’s like you’re part of the family.”
Holly swallowed. I’m doomed, she thought. There’s no way out. She managed a weak smile. “I love you all, too. I feel so at home here,” she said.
The kettle whistled. Mrs. Safran gave Holly’s hand a firm pat. “Well, good. Things will pick up for us soon. In the meantime, we’re grateful to you.”
“And she has great taste, too, Mom,” Julia said.
“She’s an angel.” Mrs. Safran poured herself a cup of tea and shuffled back toward her room. “Good night!”
“Rob, please.” Holly gave it one more shot when Rob drove her home a few hours later. “I can’t take any more wedding stuff! Julia won’t make a single decision on her own—she leaves everything up to me!”
“I know, she is so bridal,” Rob said. “Like, possessed or something. Believe me, I get it all the time, too. ‘Rob, call the tuxedo rental place. Rob, make sure Michael remembers the ring. Rob, get a haircut. Blah blah blah blah blah.’” Rob and Gabe were going to be ushers.
“See? And I’m not in the family. I’m not even in the wedding,” Holly said. “Can’t you talk to Julia for me and get her to ease up a little? Whenever I try, she pulls a guilt trip on me about how I’m holding your family together single-handedly.”
“But Holls, it’s been fun having you around all the time,” Rob said. “And if I’ve got to suffer through it, it’s so much nicer to have you suffering with me.”
“How sweet,” Holly joked.
“It will all be over in a couple of weeks,” Rob said. “Until then, think of what you’re doing, you unselfish girl. You’re making Julia happy, which makes Mom happy, which makes me happy. … You’re helping us through our hard time.” He pulled up in front of her house and stopped the car. “Without you, it would be torture.” He brushed her hair out of her face and kissed her. “And now, finally, we are alone.”
“Finally,” Holly said. She wasn’t a big fan of the car make-out session, but she’d take what she could get.
Rob put her seat back until it was almost flat, then climbed over to her side. He pressed against her, and they kissed until the windows steamed up. She pulled off her sweater, and he nuzzled her through her thin t-shirt.
“You’re so hot,” he murmured, sliding his hand under her shirt. Then his face literally lit up, caught in someone’s high beams. A car had pulled up behind them. He quickly pulled his hand away. “Someone’s home.”
Holly sat up and squinted into the headlights. It was her father, coming home late from work.
“Okay, that was totally embarrassing,” Rob said.
“I don’t think he saw anything,” Holly said.
“No, just me on top of his daughter in a car,” Rob said.
“Even if he noticed, he won’t say anything,” Holly said. “Or he might, just to tease me. It’s no big deal.”
She straightened her clothes and smoothed her hair. “Guess I’d better go inside.”
“See you at the ne
xt wedding meeting,” he said. She frowned. “Kidding,” he added. “Good night.” He kissed her one more time. The heat was still there.
Oh, Rob, she thought. How can I say no to you?
She couldn’t. That was the problem.
QUIZ: ARE YOU A PUSHOVER?
Sure, you want to do nice things for your friends, but where do you draw the line? Are you just being a good pal—or is she taking advantage of you?
1. Oh, no! Your friend broke her leg. You:
a visit her every day, bring her treats, and fill her in on the gossip she missed.
b tell her you’ll see her when the cast comes off—if she ever walks again.
c volunteer to become her live-in nurse/butler.
2. Your friend hasn’t finished her history paper—and it’s due tomorrow! She calls you up crying—she’ll get an F! You:
a encourage her to calm down and get as much done as she can. Maybe the teacher will give her an extension.
b tell her you’d love to talk, but The O.C. is on.
c stay up all night writing the paper for her.
3. A cute guy approaches you and your friend at a party. You really like him, and so does she. You:
a wait to see which one of you he’s interested in.
b battle her to the death over him.
c bow out gracefully and let her have him—after all, the guy she’s already dating isn’t really working out.
4. There’s a big party tonight, and your friend has nothing to wear. You:
a offer to go shopping with her or lend her something of yours.
b tell her the sweat-stained workout clothes she has on look fine.
c give her the new dress you were going to wear—it looks better on her, anyway.
5. Your friend’s parents are driving her crazy—they won’t let her do anything! You:
a commiserate—parents can be so clueless.
b tell her you weren’t listening—what is she crying about again?
c have a serious talk with her parents and tell them if they don’t shape up you’ll find a way to make them.