Free Exposure by Kim Askew Page B

the display window whispering conspiratorially.
    â€œSkye,” Kaya said, waving me over.
    â€œWhat’s up?” I said, still distracted by my conversation with Tiffany.
    â€œMr. Tether just dropped this off for Schaeffer,” she said, showing me the cell phone she’d been hiding behind her back.
    â€œSo?” I was in no mood for idle conversation.
    â€œWe overheard him tell Dottie that he confiscated it from your boyfriend,” Tess added, as if that explained everything.
    â€œFrom who?” (Though I knew exactly whom she meant.)
    â€œApparently your not-so-starving wannabe artist was penalized for unlawful texting during history,” confirmed Kaya.
    â€œWhat are you doing with it?”
    â€œHen left it on the counter in plain sight.” Kaya giggled. “We couldn’t resist snagging it.”
    â€œWe thought you’d want to return it to him,” Tess said proudly, handing me the phone.
    â€œUm, right,” I said, “good idea.” I didn’t want to seem totally goody-goody, and it would give me an excuse to talk to Craig, who’d been studiously avoiding me. Now I just had to figure out how to give it to him — a tricky proposition considering we weren’t speaking.
    â€¢ • •
    I planned to ambush Craig as he headed from class to the gym for the memorial service. If he saw me coming, he would be sure to head in the other direction, so I’d have to plot our rendezvous with extreme caution. At the very least, I was hoping it would lead to some clarification on the situation. All through next period, I puzzled over what to say and composed endless imaginary scenarios for how things might play out. Unable to concentrate, I finally raised my hand and asked to be excused to use the restroom. When I walked in, Kristy and her friend Emily — a petite junior with dark hair, an upturned nose, and a perpetual pout — were already in the bathroom. They both wore their cheerleading uniforms and sported black armbands. Their makeup bags and beauty paraphernalia were perched precariously on the back of the sink and windowsill. Kristy was pulling Emily’s hair into a tight ponytail on the back of her head.
    â€œSkye, long time no see,” Kristy muttered through the bobby pins in her mouth.
    â€œHey,” I replied, watching her as she pulled the pins out and thrust them in her makeup bag. Just what I needed right now; a conversation with Kristy. I assumed from her tone she and Beth had probably made up already and that I was no longer her new favorite person.
    â€œI see you made it home from the party okay.”
    â€œWhat do you mean?”
    â€œWell, you were riding with Beth. I thought she might have chucked you out the car door at a convenient overpass, or at the very least tried to claw your eyes out.” Okay. Clearly they were still frenemies.
    â€œAny word from Duff?” I asked nonchalantly, changing the subject.
    â€œHe texted this morning,” she said. “His parents called and told him about Duncan, and he’s devastated that he can’t be here right now.”
    â€œThey were pretty good friends, right?”
    â€œThe best,” she said. “Since kindergarten. Well, until Craig showed up, anyway. After Duff left, Craig stepped in and became Batman’s new Robin.”
    I pulled out my comb and began running it through my hair, at the same time berating myself for primping. First of all, like Craig would even notice, and secondly, I had never been one to spend hours in front of the mirror trying to be the fairest of them all. It just wasn’t my style.
    â€œWe’re doing a dance routine in memory of Duncan at the memorial service,” Emily said in a confiding tone.
    â€œThat’s nice, I guess,” I said, thinking it was actually kind of ridiculous, but whatever.
    Startled, I noticed that Kristy was looking at me the way a tagger might eye a pristine brick wall.