Page 41 of Pride High 2: Orange

Crap.

“It wouldn’t have gotten wet if it was under the bushes,” Mindy said.

“How’d you know it was there?” Ricky said, sounding suspicious.

Double crap!

“Just a guess,” Mindy said with a shrug. “I’ve seen your house, and if you didn’t notice it before and it stayed dry, where else could it have been?”

“Damn, Detective Mindy is on the case!” Omar said. “Can I open it now?”

Ricky ignored him. “Here’s the other thing: My dad and I raked the yard not long ago. Iknowwe would have seen it.”

“Unless you’re going to dust it for prints…” Omar said, starting to peel back the paper.

“Maybe we should!” Ricky said, snatching it from him. “That way I can figure out who saved me.”

“From what?” Anthony asked.

“Myself,” Ricky explained. “All those pills I took really messed me up. Enough that it seemed like a good idea to go to Omar’s party, despite being high or whatever. On the way to your house, I dropped your present when I fell and hit my head. I remember that a woman stopped to help me. I didn’t get a good look at her because my glasses had fallen off but…” Ricky lowered them in demonstration before he peered intently at Mindy.

“It wasn’t me!” she said. “I was at Omar’s party. Silvia was with me. I have an alibi.” Mindy felt quite proud of herself. She had managed to take the heat off herself and protect her best friend at the same time.

“It’s true,” Omar confirmed. “Why does it matter anyway?”

“Because I never got to thank her,” Ricky said, pushing his glasses up again. “The people at the hospital said someone my age brought me in. She left her contact info, but when my mom tried calling to thank her, the number was disconnected. And we couldn’t find anyone with that last name in the phone book.”

“What was it?” Mindy asked, almost forgetting that she already knew who the real culprit was.

“McVie,” Ricky said.

“As in Christine McVie?” Anthony asked.

“Yes!” Ricky said, trembling with excitement. “You know her?”

Anthony snorted. “Not personally. She’s part of Fleetwood Mac.”

That made sense. Silvia loved Fleetwood Mac, although Mindy would deny that if anyone asked.

“So it’s a made-up name,” Ricky said, his shoulders slumping. “And yet, they must know who I am, or at least where I live, because they wouldn’t have been able to return the tape otherwise.”

Omar cleared his throat. “Am I the only one dying to know what movie he got me?”

“Oh, sorry,” Ricky said, handing it to him again.

“I sure hate to destroy evidence,” Omar said before tearing at the paper with reckless abandon.

“Then again,” Anthony said, “it’s nice that someone helped you without expecting anything in return. Not even gratitude.”

“That’s true,” Ricky said. “I’d still like to thank her. I mean, if she hadn’t been there, maybe I wouldn’t be here now, you know?”

Aww! Mindy would make sure to relay that sentiment to her best friend. Silvia had certainly been humble when explaining events. She hadn’t made herself sound like a hero at all, but Ricky was right. She very likely saved his life.

“Robot boobs!” Omar declared, beaming happily at the unwrapped VHS tape. “I’ve always wanted to see this. Andthem. Ha ha!”

“Oh my god,” Mindy murmured under her breath. As if she needed more evidence that boys didn’t mature as fast. She had business to attend to anyway. Their teacher arrived just as the bell rang and seemed flustered. She rose to meet him.

“Mr. Finnegan?”