Page 16 of The Executioners Three
“I already knew it was you who’d pranked the prep school—even if you hadn’t just confessed.”
“Oh.”
“And I told you, it’s dangerous in those woods. Also, Mrs. Elliot’s cul-de-sac is private property. Now, go home.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Freddie watched Bowman leave, disappointment oozing down her spine.
She didn’t want to quit the pranks. Not on top of everything else.
Although, the more Freddie considered it as she toed in her kickstand and rolled the bike toward the street, the more she decided that if anyone was to blame here, it was Sheriff Bowman herself.
After all, she had stopped Freddie and Kyle on the lakeshore, and then she had let them go.
Yes. This was sound logic. Nary a post hoc fallacy in sight.
Freddie was halfway to the street when a voice called, “Hey, Gellar! Wait.”
She glanced back and found Theo jogging toward her. His eyes were wide, and his hair was especially mussed now. Like maybe he’d been running his hands through it for the past five minutes.
She wished it didn’t look so good that way.
“I wanted to tell you…” He slowed to a stop on the other side of her bike. “Nice job with the birdseed and the trash. It took me and the other weekend students four hours to clean up the mausoleum gardens. It was…” He squinted into the distance. “ Inspired. ”
Freddie’s lips twitched. “I don’t think you’re supposed to compliment the enemy.” She also didn’t think the enemy was supposed to be delighted by such compliments either.
“What can I say?” He bounced a single shoulder. “I expected the BHS kids to completely implode without their prank book. They can’t come up with any ideas without that thing. Then you show up and ruin my plans.”
This felt like another compliment, and Freddie really wished her heart would stop thumping so much at the prospect.
He is the enemy, she scolded inwardly. The Mercutio to your Tybalt! Except, now that Freddie considered it, he looked more like Leonardo DiCaprio than John Leguizamo.
“So you, uh… You came out here just to compliment me?”
“Uh…” Theo scrubbed nervously at his hair.
There was a restless energy to him; he couldn’t seem to stand still.
“I mean, it was either come find an excuse to talk to you, or spend the next five minutes on the couch waiting for my uncle to come home. And trust me: five minutes is more than enough time for my aunt to list all my faults. In detail. Again.”
“You do seem to have a lot of them.”
“Hey now.” He shoved his hands into his pockets. His knee juddered. “You don’t know anything about me.”
“I know you drink beer on school nights and drink soda for breakfast. And that doth not a wholesome human make.”
He gave a weak laugh at her joke, but it was forced. Distracted. There was definitely something else he wanted to say—something that was the actual reason he’d come out here.
So Freddie took a page from Sheriff Bowman’s book and preserved her silence. Sure enough, after three Lance Basses of quiet, Theo cleared his throat. “So, uh… do you really think that Fontana guy was murdered?”
This was not what Freddie had been expecting. “Were you eavesdropping just now?”
“Oh, absolutely.”
“Ugh.” Freddie shook her head, genuine annoyance unfurling in her chest. “That’s one more thing that makes you a Very Bad Human Indeed. And in case you can’t tell, I am saying that phrase as a proper noun. So you know it’s serious.”
Theo’s eyes crinkled, and this time the smile was real. So real that Freddie felt her own lips lifting in return.
But she instantly fought off the reaction. Theo Porter was not worthy of her smiles; Fortin Prep students were all terrible Montagues—enemy, enemy, enemy.
Then again, Theo was also not worthy of her time, yet here she was filling it for him. She supposed she might as well exact a teensy bit of revenge.
“So tell me, Mr. Porter.” Freddie stretched one leg over her bike. “What does the song ‘I Want It That Way’ actually mean?”
Red fanned up his neck and face. “I was, uh… wondering if you would mention that.”
“How could I not? Your performance was…” She squinted into the distance. “ Inspired. ”
“Huh.” Now he was really fidgeting. Hands in the pockets. Hands out. Fingers through his hair. Thumb tapping at his thigh.
“You were almost as good as the NSYNC concert I attended last June.”
He scoffed, and somehow the color on his cheeks flared brighter. “Justin Timberlake,” he said, “has nothing on Nick Carter.”
“Well, my favorite is Lance anyway.”
“Not an improvement.”
“Wrong. Plus, at least all of NSYNC’s lyrics make sense.”
“No way.” Theo’s eyes narrowed. “I mean, explain to me what ‘Tearin’ Up My Heart’ is actually about. He’s upset when he’s with her and when they’re apart?”
Freddie didn’t know whether to be impressed that Theo knew the lyrics or horrified that he could misunderstand them so badly. “He’s so in love with her that it rips him apart when he’s with her and when they’re apart—how is that hard to comprehend?”
“Because it’s illogical.”
“Or you have a heart made of iron.”
There it was again—the surprised laugh—and for several heartbeats, Freddie found herself grinning full wattage right back.
Maybe Theo Porter isn’t so bad, she thought. Then half a heartbeat later, NO, WAIT. HE IS THE ENEMY. HE KILLED TYBALT. RED ALERT. RED ALERT. STOP SMILING.
Fortunately, Freddie was saved from having to get her face under control by a blue Explorer. Mr. Bowman was home. Freddie waved to him. “It would seem you don’t require my presence any longer, Mr. Porter.”
“Thanks for helping out.” Theo ran his tongue over his teeth. “Although, it is the least you could do after getting me arrested.”
She rolled her eyes. Mr. Bowman was pulling into the driveway now.
It really was time to move, yet for some reason, instead of pedaling away, she found herself pinning Theo with her haughtiest stare and saying, “I’m going to get that prank book back, Mr. Porter.
Just you wait—you and the rest of your filthy Montague clan won’t even know what hit you. ”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Theo said. “But if you actually manage to get it back, Gellar, then I will be very impressed.”
“Oh, come on now.” Freddie pushed into a slow ascent. “You’re already impressed by me. You said as much earlier. But don’t you worry!”
She pedaled past Mr. Bowman, who waved from the driver’s seat. Then once at the road, she released the handlebars and shouted back, “It’s only natural to think I’m amazing! I have that effect on everyone! ”