“It’s not,” her mom agreed. “It’s not fair at all.”
Lisa had always appreciated this about her mom, how she didn’t try to sugarcoat bad things in pretty words. A scraped knee got a matter-of-fact That looks like it really hurts, while a mean taunt on the playground received a sympathetic Sometimes people are just cruel. There’s no excuse for it, and it’s never okay.
And when her dad had died and Lisa had sobbed herself to sleep every night for two months, her mom had simply sat on the side of her bed and stroked her back, saying, This is a big sadness, baby girl. It’s all right to feel it.
Lisa pulled in a long breath. This was the thing Charlene didn’t get. She knew the world was hard and rarely fair, but there were layers of complexity that she just didn’t understand, and probably never would. It wasn’t her fault; their roads were just different.
Her mom cleared her throat, folding her hands. “Now, honey, what was it you wanted to talk to me about?”
“Nothing,” Lisa said quickly. She couldn’t talk to her mom about her and Charlene now. Not when there was so much other stuff going on.
Her mom pursed her lips, giving her a practiced I-don’t-believe-that-for-a-second look.
Jim paused with his spoon midway to his mouth, catching his wife’s eye. They had a quick conversation using only their eyes—a language Lisa had never learned to speak, despite her efforts—then he cleared his throat. “Well, I’m going to go finish taking care of all this,” he said, straightening to gesture at his white undershirt and the couple of flecks of red-spotted toilet paper dotting his chin, as if he’d never intended to sit and eat breakfast in the first place.
After Jim had hurried out of the room, her mom raised her eyebrows at Lisa. “C’mon, baby girl, you and I both know you didn’t ask to talk about nothing.”
“Well,” Lisa amended, casting around for an effective distraction. “I was just going to ask if you needed me this weekend. To help prepare for the debate.”
It worked. Her mom’s eyes instantly became clouded, and Lisa knew she was running through her long list of things to do. “Oh, honey, that’s so sweet, but don’t you worry about that. Actually, other than the setup Saturday morning, it’s probably for the best if you and Rosie lay a little bit low for the rest of the week. The press . . .” She sighed, her gaze dropping back to the paper as she trailed off.
Lisa pasted a smile on her face, determined not to make the road her mom was walking any bumpier than it had to be. “Absolutely.”
“And you know, I know you love to hang out with Charlene, and of course we love her, too, but in light of the article and considering how close her family is with the Gibsons, we were wondering if maybe you might take some . . . space. From each other.”
Unexpected tears sprang to Lisa’s eyes at the sound of Charlene’s words echoed in her mother’s voice. Abruptly, she stood to retrieve her glass from the sink, pretending she’d suddenly decided on a refill. She blinked rapidly as she rinsed out the glass and filled it with water, trying to banish the tears from her eyes.
“Not for long,” Diane hurried to say, likely mistaking Lisa’s heartbreak for annoyance. “Maybe just until after the debate? Then we’ll see where we are.”
Char doesn’t want to see me anyway, Lisa reminded herself. It should be easy enough to say yes. To give her mom what she needed. To give Charlene what she wanted. Really, nothing was even changing. Nothing was being taken away that she hadn’t already lost.
Then why did it feel like she was being torn in two?
Lisa took a deep breath. Her tears seemed mostly under control now, even as her heart felt like it was being slowly crushed. She turned to face her mother, her smile frozen in place. “Sure thing. No problem at all.”
She excused herself and walked back upstairs to brush her teeth, wondering just how many pieces of herself she’d have to give up by the time this was all over, and if she’d even recognize herself anymore by then.
Chapter Thirty-Two
BILL
The door clicked shut behind Andy, who walked out of Bill’s office stiffly, his hall pass to in-school suspension crumpled in his hand. Once Andy was safely on the other side of the door, Pat walked over to the window, running his hand slowly over his beard, and blew out a long breath. “Well, shit.”
He cracked the window open and pulled a cigarette out of his shirt pocket. “Want one?” he said, holding the box out to Bill.
“It’s nine a.m., Pat. Class is in session.”
“I opened the window.”
As Pat lit his cigarette and inhaled deeply, Bill eyed the desk drawer that held the Bacardi. If only it weren’t nine o’clock in the morning during a school day, he’d be pouring himself a drink. He leaned back in his chair, pressing the heels of his hands to his eyes until he saw spots, trying to think through what to do next.
It hadn’t taken long for Andy to crack. As soon as Pat had shown him the tests, the truth had come pouring out. Andy wasn’t a bad kid, but he’d quickly become overwhelmed by the increase in the amount of work for high school as opposed to middle school. Someone had told him about a way to buy tests, so he’d scraped together the money to purchase three. He wrote down all the answers on a piece of paper he hid in his shirtsleeve, and until this morning, he thought he’d gotten away with it. Two of the other tests he’d already gotten back with A-plus results. His face when he saw his failing history grade had made Bill wonder if he was going to burst into tears.
Andy didn’t know who he’d bought the test from. He knew who’d told him about the system, but that person had never purchased a test; they just knew how it worked. Apparently, it was a pretty widely known secret among the students at the school: Put an envelope in locker 247 containing the money, your locker number, and which classes and tests you need. The next day, either the test appears in your locker or your money is returned to you.
“Do we tell the faculty?” Pat asked, blowing a stream of smoke out the open window. “Sounds like it’s practically every class.”
Bill shook his head. “Until we know who it is, we need to keep this between us. We don’t want to risk them finding out we know. We’ll tell the rest of the faculty once we have a name.” And maybe, if he was lucky, they could get this wrapped up before the mayoral debate this weekend. More support for public schools was one of Diane’s biggest campaign platforms. If news of a school-wide cheating scandal came out right before the debate, Bill just knew Gibson’s people would have a field day with it, adding to Veronica’s already overflowing plate of stress.
“Andy could tell someone. Warn them we’re looking.”
“He’s not going to. Did you see that kid’s face? He won’t be going anywhere near that locker for a while. And he definitely isn’t going to want word to get around that he’s the one who told the teachers about it.”
“So what do we do then?”
Bill sighed. “I think we need to set up a sting.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
ROSE
Rose tapped her pencil against her desk. She’d finished her homework in the first ten minutes of study hall, leaving her with nothing to do for the next half hour. At the front of the classroom, Mr. Shaw hunched over his desk, a red pen in his hand and a stack of papers in front of him.