OLIVIA HADN’T SEEN AMBER ALL DAY. SHE ASSUMED AMBER had left, either to check on Rex or, more likely, to go home to avoid the gossip. But as Olivia walked out onto the quad for lunch, she saw her old friend perched on top of their usual table, one leg crossed over the other with the hem of her barely school-sanctioned pencil skirt inching dangerously up her thighs, holding court in front of a group of curious onlookers.
Olivia smiled to herself. She should have known that Amber wouldn’t miss a chance to play the victim in front of the entire school.
“I knew,” she said, then thrust her hands before her, palms down. “I could feel it the moment I walked onto campus this morning. Every inch of my body screamed out to me that something awful was going to happen.”
“Hey,” Olivia said, sliding onto the bench next to Peanut. “How’s the show?”
“Tired material,” Jezebel said, unwrapping a hoagie. “I feel like I’ve heard it before.”
Amber shot her a glance but didn’t drop character. “When I opened my email and saw that link I knew it would change my life forever.”
Jezebel rolled her eyes and Olivia had to pin her lips together to keep from smiling.
Amber uncrossed her legs and let them swing casually off the side of the table. “My father is going to have it examined by video experts,” she said. “I’m sure it was doctored.”
“Have you talked to Rex?” Kyle asked. He and Tyler stood together, arms folded in a matching stance.
“Is he okay?” Tyler asked.
“Did he ask for me?”
“Or me?”
Amber shook her head. “I haven’t talked to him. But it’s not because we broke up,” she added quickly, as if to emphasize that she was still the most important person in Rex’s life. “I’m sure he’s been in conference with the police all day.” Her eyes lit up, a new idea popping into her brain. “Or at the courthouse. You know, one of his father’s best friends is the assistant district attorney. I wouldn’t be surprised if Mr. Cavanaugh has the National Guard called in to find DGM. Or the army. Or the FBI.”
“Or the A-Team,” Peanut said under her breath.
Olivia snorted.
“Because . . .” Amber’s voice trailed off. Her chest heaved and she stifled a fake sob. “Because if they can attack Rex Cavanaugh, who will be next? He’s the most popular guy in school. Who else could they go after? It would have to be the most popular person in school,” she said, laying deliberate emphasis on the gender-neutral noun.
Jezebel yawned, big and loud, then answered Amber’s question like a good sidekick. “Like you.”
Amber’s hand flew to her mouth as she sucked in about a gallon of oxygen. “Me?”
Tyler’s arm shot around Amber’s shoulder, and Olivia half-wished Rex was at school to see his toady hit on his ex-girlfriend. “Don’t worry, Amber. We won’t let them hurt you.”
“Yeah,” Kyle said. He eyed Amber’s shoulders as if looking for room to add his own muscly arm, then grabbed her hand instead. “We won’t let them hurt you.”
Beside her on the bench, Olivia felt Peanut stiffen as Kyle stroked Amber’s hand lovingly. Ugh. Poor Peanut.
“Do you think they would?” Amber asked, looking from one suitor to the other. “I mean, would they dare?”
It was getting to be more than Olivia could stomach. She looked around, desperate for an escape. Anything she could use as an excuse to get away from Amber’s spectacle. Instead, she saw John wander out of the cafeteria, his nose buried in a comic book.
Perfect timing.
She waved, trying to catch his eye, and when he looked up at her, she flicked her head toward Amber.
John paused and stared at her. “Now?” he mouthed.
Olivia opened her eyes wide and nodded. “Now.”
John wrinkled his nose and sighed, big and dramatic. A child being asked to do a chore he doesn’t want to do. But it only lasted a moment before he set his shoulders, thrust his hips forward, and sauntered over to their table like a rock star taking the stage.
“John!” Amber squealed the moment she saw him. She quickly disentangled herself from Tyler and Kyle. “Did you hear what happened? Did you see it?”
“Yeah.” John eyed Tyler and Kyle. “Really, um, messed up. To go after him like that.” He didn’t sound like he even remotely believed the words that were coming out of his mouth.
Amber didn’t notice. She waved her hand, dismissing her audience. Tyler and Kyle slinked away, hands buried deep in the pockets of their matching jeans. “Rex is terrified of clowns,” she said, once they were out of earshot. “I’m not surprised he pissed himself.”
Peanut tilted her head to the side. “I thought you just said you were absolutely positive the video was doctored?”
Amber ignored her. “But I’m just so shaken.” She shuddered, wiggling her head and shoulders as if she’d been shocked by a cattle prod. “I mean, I could be next.”
John stared at her blankly, formulating a response. Olivia knew the words on the tip of his tongue were something like “Yeah, and you’d deserve it” and she could see him struggle to suppress that instinct, and come up with something more in character.
“You?” he said at last. “A target of DGM? But you’re Amber Stevens!”
Amber giggled. “I am!” she said, as if being Amber Stevens was somehow a title of honor bestowed by a higher power instead of the name she was given at birth.
“You practically run this school.” John smiled, pleased with himself. “Everyone looks up to you.”
“They do, don’t they,” Amber said. It wasn’t a question.
John bit his lip like a flirty schoolgirl and looked up at the sky. “I know I always have.”
If Bree could see this display, she’d be laughing her ass off. Or punching someone. Or both.
Amber squeezed John’s arm. “You are so adorable.” She turned back to Jezebel, Peanut, and Olivia. “Haven’t I always said that John was totally adorable?”
“No,” Peanut said innocently.
Amber scowled. “Yes, I have, Peanut.” She looked pointedly at Olivia. “Haven’t I?”
“Um . . . sure?” She couldn’t keep the raised inflection out of her voice. But thankfully Amber didn’t notice. The bell rang, signaling the end of lunch.
Amber launched herself off the table. “Time for drama!”
Olivia smiled. She was right on so many levels.
“Walk me?” Amber latched onto John’s arm like a debutante waiting to be escorted into the ball.
John sighed. “Sure.” He trudged off, Amber leeched to his side, with all the enthusiasm of a soldier on a suicide mission.
“Thank God,” Peanut said. She grabbed the remnants of her lunch and shoved them in her bag, and Olivia noticed for the first time that she’d barely eaten anything.
“You okay?” she asked, quickly following her friend.
Peanut looked at her sidelong, instantly suspicious. “Yeah.”
Why so on edge? “You didn’t eat any lunch.” Olivia forced a laugh. “Still on the cleanse?”
“Cleanse?” Peanut replied, obviously confused.
Olivia made a mental note never to do one of Mrs. Dumbrowski’s master cleanses. It had turned Peanut’s brain to mush.
Mr. Cunningham bounded out from the wings the moment the bell rang. “Settle down, everyone. Settle!”
Olivia looked up and noticed that he’d wheeled the big-screen television onto the stage.
“Exciting news today!” he said, as the din lowered. He held up his hand. In it was a DVD. “I’ve got the video from opening night!”
Olivia went rigid in her seat. Finally! The police had presumably gone over the video several times, looking for any evidence in regard to Margot’s attack. But they didn’t know what to look for.
“I picked it up from the police department yesterday after class,” Mr. Cunningham said, “but I haven’t watched it yet. I wanted to share that joy with all of you. Now I know we’re all excited, but let us remember the tragic events that took place that evening.” He gestured to Logan. “And be respectful of those still suffering because of it.”
“Thanks, dude,” Logan said. His face was stoic.
“So with that in mind, I give you . . .” Mr. Cunningham waved his hand with a dramatic flourish and backed off the stage. “Twelfth Precinct.”
Mr. Cunningham disappeared into the wings and the house lights dimmed, leaving the theater illuminated only by the blue glow of the television. The screen went static, then the video began. Olivia could see the theater, curtains open to reveal the sets representing seventies New York, and hear the audience twittering, waiting for the show to begin. She held her breath as the house lights dimmed and the screen went black. This was it.
Music blared from the speakers, but it wasn’t the rock track played by Bangers and Mosh. It was a funky calliope song from a hooty pipe organ, like you’d hear on an old-time merry-go-round.
“Hey!” Shane called out. “That’s not our band. Did you replace us for the DVD release?”
Before Mr. Cunningham could answer, a photo popped onto the screen. It was a close-up of a wooden sign, hand-painted in yellow with the words “Camp Shred.” After a couple of seconds, another photo took its place. This was a wider shot, showing the Camp Shred sign in the middle of the woods at what appeared to be a summer camp.
Olivia’s hands went cold. Had someone accidentally taped over the only piece of evidence DGM had?
A subtitle zoomed into frame.
Camp Shred, Jones Gulch, CA—June, 2005
“Oh my God!” Amber gasped.
The photos accelerated, one every few seconds. They showed groups of kids, age ten or eleven, participating in a variety of camp activities—canoeing, swimming, hiking, arts and crafts. All of them were on the chubby side, a few were borderline obese. And one girl was prominent in every photo, her wavy light-brown hair eerily familiar.
The slideshow paused on a close-up of the girl’s face, the image of her chubby, smiling cheeks lingering on the screen.
It wasn’t until Amber shot to her feet that Olivia realized who she was looking at.
“How dare you!” Amber screamed to no one in particular. Then before Olivia could stop her, she ran up the aisle and out of the classroom.
She didn’t even see the final image on the screen.
Courtesy of DGM.
