I look up, catching the teacher’s eyes, so I pick up my pencil and pretend to write with one hand while tapping a reply under the table with the other.
Are you Aces?
There is a short pause before the three dots appear again.
You’re the second person to ask me that this week. I thought we were friends.
I wouldn’t call us friends… In fact, the last time we spoke—sometime after our fake breakup at the beginning of junior year—he’d laughed at my shoes, in the hallway, and I’d threatened to cut off his stupid ponytail. But I thought we were on good enough terms too. He’s friends with Jamie’s friends, so we’ve always kind of been in the same circles anyway.
I thought we were too, yet you’re the only connection I can think of who’d have any dirt on both me and Devon.
…
As I told the other person, why would I implicate myself?
There’s something inside me that knows it isn’t Scotty. That for all the shitty things he’s done, he doesn’t stand to gain anything from this.
My phone buzzes again.
Scared that Aces will talk about that night?
Frozen, I stare down at the message, trying to figure out what he means bythat night. Does Scotty somehow know about the girl we hit?
What night?I send.
Waiting for his reply feels like an eternity, but eventually I feel my phone vibrate.
Jamie’s party at the beginning of junior year. You were wasted, remember? Kept telling people their outfits sucked. It was funny, actually.
I only remember snippets of Jamie’s party. I remember the kiss… But the rest is a blur. I don’t even remember drinking that much, but I’m a lot more careful now if I do drink around people. I want to be able to recall everything, keep their secrets in my bank rather than the other way around.
Why’d I be scared about that? The worst Aces could do is show everyone a video of me dancing badly on top of some table. I’ve been through worse attempts at people trying to embarrass me.
Is that all you remember?Scotty writes back almost immediately.
I pause, trying to figure out what he means by that.
Yes, why?
I hardly remember that night and wanted to piece things together too in case Aces has anything on me. I do stupid things when I’m drunk. All I remember is talking to you, kissing some guy, and throwing up in the rosebushes outside.
I don’t remember speaking to Scotty that night. I close my eyes,trying to recall something, anything. And as if a bucket of ice water has been tossed over my head, a massive chill pulls me into a memory.
“Can I tell you a secret?” Scotty asks, his voice startling me. I’m in one of the guest bedrooms. The door was supposed to be locked… I’m not sure how Scotty got in. The music blaring from the party downstairs is making my head spin.
“It’s about you…,” he says with a loopy smile.
“What secret?” I say, trying to sit up, panic rising inside.
He smirks a little, then takes a seat on the carpet next to me, almost spilling the concoction in his red Solo cup.
“I heard that Cecelia Wright isn’t a natural blonde,” Scotty says.
I blink at him.
“That’s not about me.” I stare.
“No, of course it isn’t… Your name is Chi, not CeCe.” He wipes his mouth and leans in close. He smells like death, and that’s the nice way of putting it.
