Demarcus scoffs like it’s a ridiculous question. “Yeah,” he says. “My mom taught me to respect women. I don’t want any part inthisshit.” He motions around the room. “I had no idea it was this bad.”
Sydney nods. I wonder if it’s strange for us to be grateful when people are decent, as if we’re always expecting the worst. Confronting the other guys will make Demarcus a hero, even though us standing up to them led to our expulsion from school.
The system works differently for different people. We’ll have to change that if we want different results.
Sydney and I head down the stairs, my hip sore from where I fell on the roof. When we get to the bottom floor, I see the rest of the party has broken up. As I limp onto the front porch, Sydney looks sideways at me.
“You okay?” she asks, concerned.
“I’ll be fine,” I tell her. “Uh …by the way, where’d you get that?”
Sydney holds up the Taser to examine it. “I wasn’t sure it would work,” she says. “It was in that bag Leandra gave us back at Imogene’s house. I took it. Kept it just in case.”
“Good,” I say.
Sydney slips it back into her purse and takes out her phone. “Also, I recorded that entire thing.” She smiles.
That means we got Jonah holding me against my will, the guys posting confessions online. There will be plenty for the newspaper to work with.
“It sounds like Mr. Marsh finally came around too,” I say. “I’llcontact him and see if we can get him to file a complaint against the students and administration.”
We’re quiet as we get onto the street, the cool night air blowing around us.
“I think we got them,” I say. “And I think we protected the girls of Ridgeview.”
“And now we focus on saving ourselves,” she replies.
Sydney puts her arm around my shoulders, leaning her temple against mine. Her phone begins to buzz, and when she looks at the screen she immediately straightens.
“It’s Marcella,” she says. We move away from the house, walking toward our apartment, as she answers.
“Hi,” Sydney says. “You girls okay?”
She listens for a moment and then stops walking abruptly. “What?” she asks, sounding shocked. “Hold on. Mena’s here too.” She clicks the speaker button and holds the phone out in front of us.
“I said it’s not them,” Marcella repeats, slightly out of breath.
“What’s not them?” Sydney asks, looking at me.
“It’s not one of the boys,” she says. “The investor doesn’t have a son. He has a daughter.”
“You found him?” I ask. “How do you know?”
“Because we found the money,” Brynn explains, far away at first and then into the line like she’s taken the phone from Marcella. “It’s a Mr. Goodwin. He contacted Jonah’s dad for a loan, a pretty large sum. He then funneled it through Ridgeview. He …”
But my mind drifts for a second, stuck on that last name. When it hits me, my stomach sinks.
“Who’s the daughter?” Sydney demands.
“Adrian,” I say before Brynn can.
“Wait, you know her?” Brynn asks, surprised. Sydney swings to face me with a pained expression.
“Is it possible she knew who we were from the start?” Sydney asks.
“I’m not sure,” I murmur. I think back to our conversations, any moment where Adrian could have given herself away, but nothing stands out. Then again, I wasn’t looking closely. With the boys, we had our guard up all the time. I guess I had my own double standard.
Still … I’m convinced that Adrian is my friend. I don’t think she’s faked that.
