Another swoosh, and... “Dave just emailed us the report on Marina Santana and her family,” Sam reported, scrolling over to his email app and... “Well, shit,thiswould’ve been useful information a few days ago.” He looked up. “Emily Johnson, age twenty-seven, is Marina Santana’s daughter.”
“What?” Robin said. “That’s... No! Really?Whoa, that’s messed up.”
“You think?” Jules said. “It now begs the question, in this dark comedy of lying liars and hidden identities... Does Emily Johnson know that her boyfriend Mick O’Rourke is also Milt Junior, the man who killed her mother?” He didn’t wait for them to answer. “I’m gonna go withno.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Jules: Age Seventeen
Connecticut
Wednesday’s morning event went off without a hitch. Sadie carried the bulk of her performance with Rod—although no slapping was necessary, thank goodness—as Jules and Tom again listened in from the auditorium.
Hobbit was missing—but he showed up at lunch, right on time.
Jules was sitting in the cafeteria at a table that was mostly empty, but intentionally close to where Rod and his idiots—including Rugby-Shirt Jimmy—were throwing french fries at each other and laughing uproariously.
“Hey, there you are! What are you doing inhere?”
Jules looked up into Hobbit’s puzzled but smiling face as he took another bite of his tasteless, horrible sandwich. Plain peanut butter—he’d used up the grape jelly yesterday and he’d forgotten to add it to the grocery list. Without the jelly,the two slices of wheat bread were stuck together in a mass of sticky stupidity. He spoke around it awkwardly as he answered as sullenly as he could manage, “Eating lunch. What does it look like I’m doing?”
Hobbit’s smile faltered. God, he was a good actor. And no, Jules wasn’t all that bad himself, but he did not enjoy it, not the way Hob did. The kid kept talking about Jules auditioning for the spring musical, but that wasnotgoing to happen. He’d go out for the role of audience member, thanks, and watch his new friends shine, safely from the school auditorium.
Hobbit started to pull out a chair, to sit down next to Jules, but Jules stopped him. “That seat’s taken.”
It so obviously wasn’t but Hobbit froze. “What?” he said, and the expression on his face made Jules’s stomach hurt.
God, maybe they should’ve rehearsed this—saying these lines was harder than it looked. Still, Jules pushed on.
“It’s taken. Don’t sit there.” Jules got a little louder, went a little heavier with his enunciation, as Hobbit had directed in the script. “I don’t want you to sit there.”
The two other kids—freshmen—who were sitting on the other end of the long table stood up, took their trays, and scuttled away. That’s right, children, run far, run fast...
“Oh.” Hob pushed the seat back in. The look in his eyes was full kicked-puppy as he looked nervously from Jules to the table where the soccer team was now watching—Hi, Rugby-Shirt Jimmy—and back again to Jules. “What... What’s going on?”
“Nothing’s going on,” Jules said getting louder still. “I just don’t want you to sit with me. How is that hard to understand? I mean, I know you’re not an idiot.”
“I just... I thought... I...”
“You follow me freaking everywhere,” Jules said even louder. “You need to stop.”
Hobbit’s expression shifted and changed—hardening a little with realization. “Oh, my God, it’s true isn’t it?” he asked. “Belle told me that she heard that David’s coming to see you this weekend, but I told her, no way.”
It was hard not to laugh or at least squirm in his seat, because that line was so freaking brilliant—and even better when Hobbit delivered it. Let Rugby Shirt Jimmy share some juicy gossip with Suspect X, that Jules absolutely wouldnotbe at the party because his out-of-town boyfriend was visiting. Bravo, Hobbit!
“Welp,” he told Hobbit. “He is. I’m picking him up at the airport on Friday afternoon.”
“Hedumpedyou,” Hobbit said hotly. “But just like that, he snaps his fingers and you’re gonna take him back?”
“Oh,” Jules said with mock sympathy. “Sweetie. Did you really think you actually had a shot at replacing him? Newsflash: You don’t. You never will. So will you please just go, just trot right off, and get a life of your own?”
Hobbit’s mouth had dropped open but now the hurt in his eyes had even more fire to it. He made a noise that was part pain, part outrage. “You’rethe one who got drunk and was all overme!”
Jules threw his uneaten sandwich back into his lunch bag. “The two most important words inthatsentence aregotanddrunk.”
Another outraged noise from Hob. “You gonna tell him about me?”
“Yeah,” Jules said. “We’ll share a good laugh.” Oof, his delivery of that cruel line was maybe too harsh, because Hobbit actually recoiled as if he’d been punched.
