Page 7

At seven in the morning, Hank Dillon trundled down the Thrashers’ drive in the Corolla. Jodi stood from the window seat and sent Zack a text to say goodbye and to call if he needed anything. She slid into the passenger seat, buckled, and let her dad wring every answer out of her.

That morning, her dad called a friend from high school who was a lawyer, but not a criminal one. He gave them both some peace of mind on what they could expect over the next few days.

“Just the media, if anything,” he assured them on speakerphone. “If cops come to the door, call a lawyer immediately, but if they didn’t have anything on Jodi last night, they don’t have it. She’s a minor. They won’t want to make this messy.”

Jodi cooked eggs for the two of them while Hank took notes.

She didn’t hear from the others all day. Paige sent a picture of her cat to their Snapchat group in the afternoon, but Zack was silent. Probably grounded because he failed chemistry and therefore being watched carefully by Greg.

On Sunday night, she pulled Monday’s clothes out of her closet. A jean jacket Lucy had bought her, Skechers from Zack, a necklace from Paige. She could feel like her friends were with her in small ways.

Hank made tacos for dinner, and it was almost nice how rattled he was about it all—he’d forgone drinking to oblivion, sticking with a can of Bud and nothing else.

At bedtime, Jodi stared at her empty notifications before asking Lucy in the Snapchat group if she got her schedule changed.

ya i have english with julian still, but i changed everything else

no drama with you jo. Sorry

Jodi stared at the phone. She didn’t even want to take drama class. Paige did. Then Paige needed Model UN, so it was only Jodi and Lucy. Now it was just Jodi.

She’d have to drop it tomorrow. There was no way she was getting left behind only to end up playing a tree.

The moment Jodi stepped on the bus Monday morning, she decided to ride her bike for the rest of the year.

There were rows upon rows of classmates staring at her, some lifting cool, assessing brows. Jodi realized most of them had seen her face on the news three nights ago.

She inched to the back, passing full seats and finally dropping into an open aisle next to a kid with a lip ring and large headphones.

She’d been stared at before, mainly in jealousy or—what Jodi assumed was—confusion. How did she end up a Thrasher?

But this felt different.

The bus rumbled to a stop at school and she let herself be jostled off, pouring out into the warm morning. She wound through the crowd to the locker she’d had for three years. Paige had had the one just next to hers since sophomore year, but when Jodi twisted the combination and unlatched, a pink note fell out.

I had my locker changed. see you in English

Jodi stared down at it. Paige’s precise but flowery letters looked out of place. She crumpled the note and stuffed it into her pocket.

Everything seemed out of place. It was like a nightmare version of senior year. She had never aimed to be “popular.” It wasn’t her entire goal like it was for the kids in high school movies. Maybe it would be more accurate to say that she aimed to stay popular, but really, she just aimed to stay with Zack, to be needed or wanted. It wasn’t until walking into Senora Barnett’s class that she saw the flaw in all that.

Jodi hadn’t needed to make new friends. Ever. Sure, she met Lucy and Paige freshman year and had to get to know them, but that was all Zack.

The last person Jodi befriended had killed herself on prom night.

As she took a seat near the window, she realized she knew everybody in this class, but she wasn’t sure she actually knew anybody. If Zack were here, he could whisper to her information he’d retained over the years, like maybe why Michaela and Tom V. looked like they’d broken up, or ask Naomi when she’d gotten her braces off. But if Jodi were to ask Naomi about her braces, she’d probably say she got them off two years ago, thanks for noticing .

When Jodi walked into English, Paige was already seated in the front, chatting with the people in the desks around her. She gave Jodi a warm smile, but didn’t stop her conversation.

After class, Paige was waiting for her outside the door, and Jodi almost jumped in surprise.

“Hi, babe! First day okay?” Paige offered her a stick of gum. Jodi shook her head. “I’m going to find a nice, out-of-the-way space for Zack and me to have lunch. He’s had a really rough day so far. A lot of stares and whispers, you know. So, I’m going to be with him, but tomorrow, we can sit under the tree on the field if you want!”

Paige was gone before Jodi could respond, swept up in the crowd heading to the cafeteria.

Tugging a granola bar out of her backpack, Jodi fought against the current and headed to the front office to change her class schedule.

Miss Tamblen, the receptionist, was on the phone at the front, so Jodi bit into her bar and chewed while she waited. Her eyes flickered over the inboxes, the freshmen welcome packets, and corkboard that stated merrily, Welcome Back!

“Jodi, what’s up?”

She snapped her gaze back to Miss Tamblen and found her hanging up, grinning at her.

“Hi, I wanted to switch out of my fifth period class. It’s an elective, and I just wanted to see what else I could take.”

“Ooookay,” Miss Tamblen typed her name into the system and rearranged her computer glasses back on her nose.

Oliver Burns drifted out of the side office, carrying a stack of freshly stapled packets that he laid with the other freshmen materials. His hair was yellow now.

“Oh, drama? Are you sure? New Helvetia’s department is very good,” Miss Tamblen hedged.

Oliver snorted, and she hushed him with a snap of her fingers.

“Let me check with Mrs. Yaris.” Miss Tamblen stood, and moved toward the back of the office.

Jodi watched Oliver as he filled binders with a flourish, tucked pamphlets into front sleeves, and hole-punched with grace.

“Are you taking an office assistant semester?” she asked.

He only nodded at the binder he was working on.

She shifted her weight and picked up a flyer for Back-to-School Night. Not that her dad would go…

“Why did you sign up in the first place?”

He was still staring down at the binders, clicking and unclicking the rings. She wasn’t even sure he was truly speaking to her.

“Paige and Lucy wanted to. And now they both had to drop.”

He didn’t react to her. She was just about to apologize for an swering a question that wasn’t even posed to her when he said, “It’s not that bad.”

She blinked. “Sorry?”

“Drama. The program is so small that the stage crew has to sign up for the same period. Mrs. Calloway asks on the first day if you’re a stage kid or a crew kid, and crew kids are only forced to do one-liners and ensemble stuff.”

“So I wouldn’t have to play a boy?” She grinned.

“Maybe. But you also could work in the shop all semester.”

He pulled his cell phone from his pocket, and at first, she thought he’d lost interest in her as he flipped through pictures. But then he extended his phone to her and lifted his eyes for the first time.

“Did you see The Miracle Worker last year?”

She shook her head.

“This was the backdrop.”

She took his phone and stared at a painting of a blurred white house with green shutters. A tree branch curved over the top, like a picture frame.

“You worked on this?”

He nodded. “It’s mine. I do the backdrop and wigs for every show.” He took his phone back and shrugged. “We always need artists.” He grabbed the binders and disappeared into the side office.

Jodi stared after him. They hadn’t had a proper conversation since eighth grade. They used to be good friends, and she wasn’t sure what changed back then, but he’d reached out today. She thought of her schedule for the next semester. She’d never seen Oliver on any of the posters for the shows or forced into tights for Romeo and Juliet . Could she actually get away with just painting?

In comparison to the rest of her days full of lonely classes and no further after-school hangouts with her friends, it sounded pretty nice.

“Right,” she said, as Miss Tamblen returned to the front. “I think I’ll actually stick with drama.”

“Wonderful!” Clapping her hands, she bounced on her heels. “You know, Mrs. Calloway is such a professional. She was on the West End!”

Jodi waved and headed to the vending machine near the cafeteria to grab a soda and a bag of chips, planning to eat them in the bathroom before heading to art.

Mrs. Calloway was a terrifying individual of flowing skirts and long, beaded necklaces. Her jewelry clicked when she walked, and her cerulean eyes lit up when she saw Jodi.

“Jodi Dillon. Where have you been hiding all this time?” Her lips were purple and perpetually tilted upward.

Jodi gave her a shrug and accepted the syllabus handed to her, but Oliver had been right. She allowed the crew kids to break off and go find Doug in the production lab before any of the vocal warm-ups or ball-of-energy work began.

Doug was a stocky man in his fifties who needed to step out for a cigarette every fifteen minutes. He showed them the stage and some basic safety precautions and then broke them up into stagehands, wardrobe, and scenic designers. He didn’t learn their names.

Jodi tried not to hover at Oliver’s elbow the whole time. Just because he talked to her once didn’t mean they were friends again. But when Doug sent them over to their workstations, Oliver took charge of the scenic design team and told them all that Jodi would be working on the backdrop with him.

After drama, Jodi started down the hall to advanced art, unsurprised to see Oliver a few steps ahead of her, walking with an Asian girl in Doc Martens, overalls shorts, and purple-highlighted hair.

“I told her I’ll gladly join stage crew if I’m only going to be a part of the Greek chorus again. She can fuck off if she thinks I’m wasting another year chanting ‘ No, Antigone, no!’ ” She flipped her purple- black hair over her shoulder and walked through the classroom door when Oliver pulled it open for her. Jodi slipped through when he gestured for her to enter next.

“That’s Nikita,” he said, like that was all the introduction necessary. Like NIKITA would be in lights one day.

At the end of the day, as she headed to the bus stop, Jodi realized that she had English with Paige and anatomy with Julian (where he hadn’t spared her a glance), and that was it. She had no classes with Zack or Lucy. If they weren’t supposed to eat lunch together… when would Jodi even see them?

On the way out of the main gates, a news crew had set up near the brick wall. Standing next to a reporter was Reagan, about to be interviewed. Jodi paused. She glared at Reagan, wondering what she could possibly say about the girl she didn’t know.

“Emily was such a treasure . I’m just heartbroken that she’s gone.”

The reporter asked, “A lot has been said about bullying at this school. Did you see Emily bullied?”

“Absolutely. They’re called ‘the Thrashers.’” Reagan’s eyes flicked to Jodi with a satisfied smile.

Jodi turned on her heel and booked it through the parking lot. She knew Reagan hated Lucy, but Jodi wouldn’t have said she hated all five of them. She was standoffish, but not cruel.

By the time Jodi reached the bus stop, the bus had arrived. Plopping down in the first seat available, Jodi put in her AirPods and scrolled through her music. Her eyes drifted up, and she lost her breath in a whoosh .

Emily Mills was standing at the front of the bus, looking for a seat. She stepped forward, and Jodi felt her heart jolt. Her eyes unfocused, and it was like she was staring at Emily from underwater.

But her hair… was different. Her eyes a bit closer together. Younger. The specter locked eyes with Jodi, moving down the aisle as if on a track. It wasn’t Emily. It was Hannah.

When she passed her, Jodi could only think one thing as she stared forward, swallowing down the bile climbing up her throat: Hannah Mills had taken her sister’s orange shoes, orange backpack, and favorite blue shirt—but even dead, Emily Mills was more vivacious and alive than her sister. Hannah was the ghost.

Jodi rode the bus until her stop, then slithered out of the seat, stumbled down the steps, and once the bus was out of sight, she heaved into the first set of bushes she found.