“I don’t know what’s going on with Winks,” Delia said, shaking her head. Her black ringlets bounced around her shoulders. She had her shades on, so I couldn’t see her eyes.
“Did you two have another fight?” Amber asked. She spun the saltshaker between her hands. Amber was so tense, she always had to be doing something with her hands.
We were sitting in a red vinyl booth against the wall at Benson’s. It was dinnertime, and we were lucky to get a seat.
Benson’s is always crowded because the cheeseburgers are awesome—and because it’s been the main hangout for Linden High kids ever since anyone can remember.
It was noisy and hot in the restaurant. People in twos and threes stood by the front door, waiting for a table or booth to open up.
“We didn’t have a fight,” Delia said. “I think everything is okay between Winks and me.” She sighed. “That’s the good news.”
“And what’s the bad news?” I asked.
She pulled off her shades and dropped them onto the table. “Someone beat Winks up, and he lost his job at the car wash.”
“Huh?” I gasped.
“Who beat Winks up?” Amber and I said in unison.
Delia shrugged. “He won’t talk about it.”
Amber squinted at her. “He won’t tell you who it was?”
“Or what it was about?” I added.
“No. Not a word. He told me to stop asking about it. And he’s been in a rotten mood ever since.”
“I don’t blame him,” I said. “Was he badly hurt?”
“I don’t think so,” Delia replied. “But I can barely get a word out of him.”
Amber snickered. “Which is worse? Winks fighting with you all the time? Or Winks giving you the silent treatment?”
I think Amber was trying to be light, but Delia wasn’t in the mood. “He is usually such a fun guy. . . .” Her voice trailed off.
The waitress brought our food on a big tray. There was some confusion over who ordered the rare cheeseburger and who ordered the turkey burger. But we got it straightened around, and I didn’t wait to dig in. I was hungry.
Amber wiped cheeseburger grease off her chin. “Did you know that Winks and Zane are helping Liam build a drone?”
“A real one or a Lego one?” I asked. They laughed.
“It’s a horror story,” Amber said. “Can you imagine all the trouble those guys can cause with a drone?”
“They’ll probably crash it into a jet plane or something,” Delia said.
I narrowed my eyes at her. “Whoa. That’s pretty dark.”
“Sorry. Just my mood.” She nibbled at her turkey burger. I never saw anyone take such small bites.
“I’m sure they’ll annoy people with it,” I said. “You know. Buzz their lawns or take photos from outside the neighbors’ bedroom windows.”
“For sure,” Amber agreed.
“How can those guys build a drone?” I asked. “They wouldn’t know a Crescent wrench from linemen’s pliers.”
My friends stopped eating to stare at me. “How do you know those things?” Amber said.
“My dad is a mechanic, remember?” I said.
“I think Liam has a kit,” Delia said. “That’s what Winks told me. You know. Like a model kit. Only it’s a real thing.”
We ate in silence for a while. I finished the last fry and wished I had more. Delia still had a full plate of them. I reached across the table and took a handful of hers.
“Guess who waited a long time after school for Morgan Marks?” Amber said.
“Every guy in school?” I joked.
She shook her head. “I did that blog interview with Morgan,” Amber continued. “Or at least, I tried. We were there nearly an hour, and when she left, I saw Liam waiting for her. They walked off holding hands.”
“Morgan and Liam?” Delia seemed surprised.
Amber and I knew about the bet the three guys had made about which one could get with Morgan. But Delia didn’t know. She’d be hurt that Winks had joined in.
All along, I’d been debating whether to bring up what Amber and I had learned about Morgan Marks. I knew it was private information that we shouldn’t share. But I just couldn’t help myself. It was too . . . weird.
I leaned across the table and lowered my voice. “I know I shouldn’t talk about this . . . ,” I said.
“Oh, good. You’ve got more gossip!” Amber exclaimed. Delia eyed me warily.
“You already know some of this,” I told Amber. “You were in the office with me, remember?”
Amber nodded. “Oh, yeah. You mean about Morgan?”
“What about Morgan?” Delia demanded.
“There must be a mistake in her school records,” I said. “My mom requested them from her old school and they arrived the other day. There was a letter that said Morgan died five years ago.”
Delia blinked a few times. Finally, she said, “Well . . . she is very pale.” I think she meant it as a joke. Amber and I both laughed.
“If I could be that gorgeous,” Amber said, “I wouldn’t mind being dead.”
Amber and Delia laughed.
I didn’t. “It really isn’t a joke,” I said. “I mean, I thought it was just a mix-up. It had to be a mix-up. What else? But . . . I googled Morgan Marks. And guess what? I found a bunch of news reports. She died in a car accident five years ago.”
A long silence. Then Delia said, “So . . . she’s like the living dead? A zombie? She doesn’t look like a zombie, Julie.”
“Let’s ask her,” Amber said. “She just walked in.”
