Blood on My Hands

brand.”
    He snorts derisively. Instead of me convincing him, he’s making me doubt. But there’s still so much I don’t know. And I can’t think of anything else to do. “It’s my only chance,” I whisper. “You may be right, but if I don’t try this, I’m going to go to jail for a crime I didn’t commit. Is that what you want?”
    Silence.
    Two days passed and I didn’t tell Mia she couldn’t sit at the table. She sat with us, and Katherine pretended like nothing was wrong. But I knew that she wouldn’t forget.
    On the third day, I went into the cafeteria and Katherine and the other girls weren’t sitting at the regular table. They were at a smaller round table. There was room for six and all the seats were taken. It was Zelda’s beach house all over again. Katherine was shutting me out until I did what she wanted me to.
    Only this time I knew something I hadn’t known the last time. Even if I did what she wanted, it wouldn’t end. There’d be more distasteful tasks. Why? Because I served no other purpose for her. She kept Jodie around because Jodie appeared in ads and was a school celebrity. She had Zelda because she was rich, and Kirsten because her mother provided access to cool things to do in the city. She had Brianna because Brianna was her new project, much the way I had once been a project. And why had she kept Dakota?
    Maybe she was thinking like the Chinese general who said, “Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer.”
    I sat down at a lunch table by myself, not surprised to be shut out but feeling stung just the same. Someone sat down near me with a tray, but I didn’t focus on her until she asked, “What’s going on?” It was Mia.
    “It’s obvious, isn’t it?”
    “But why?”
    There was no point in telling her why. It would only make her feel bad. So I said, “I don’t know.”
    Mia bit into a cheeseburger and chewed rhythmically, her eyes downcast. As bad as I felt for myself, I felt equally bad for her. She’d done nothing wrong. All she wanted was to be in that crowd. The more I thought about how unfair it was, the angrier I got. Only I wasn’t sure who I was angrier at—Katherine for being so cruel, or myself for being so stupid.
    Mia swallowed, then said, “You know why she dumps on us?”
    I shrugged and shook my head.
    “What’s the one thing all those girls have in common?” Mia asked.
    I glanced over at the table. “I don’t know, what?”
    “Money,” Mia said. “Lots of it.”
    I thought about that for a moment. “Not Katherine.”
    “Are you kidding?”
    “Her dad doesn’t have a job,” I said.
    Mia leaned close. “She’s a Remington . Her dad doesn’t need a job. Her mom comes from, like, a totally wealthy family. That’s why we’re not at that table, because our families don’t have as much money as theirs.” Her cheeks bulging with food, she shook her head. “God, I hate her.”
    Deep down, I didn’t agree. It was hard to imagine that it was really about money, but maybe that was the easiest way for Mia to rationalize it.
    “What’s so great about Katherine, anyway?” Mia asked. “So what if she has rich friends and a snobby attitude? I don’t need her friends and I don’t need her. I can have my own table and my own friends. How about it, Callie? Want to sit at my table?”
    Why not? I thought. I had nowhere else to sit.

Chapter 35
    Tuesday 5:52 P.M.
    “SLADE,” I IMPLORE him in a whisper from the backseat of the pickup. “Please?”
    He still doesn’t answer. He’s turned away and is facing the front. All I see is the back of his head.
    “Don’t you care?”
    He grips the steering wheel and leans forward, resting his forehead on the back of his hands. “Don’t I care? For God’s sake, Cal, did you forget that you’re the one who broke up with me? Did you ever stop to think about what you did? You just plain straight up wrecked me. And now … now you want me to help you?”
    We sit in silence. So I guess the picture on his computer means less than I thought. And he still hasn’t explained the panty hose. Maybe I should just open the door and get out. But I can’t give up. I just can’t! “Okay, Slade, you’re right. I’m not in a position to ask you to do anything. Just tell me one thing. What time is Congresswoman Jenkins scheduled to speak tomorrow?”
    He sighs loudly and shakes his head as if he thinks I’ve lost my mind, but he also digs into his back pocket, comes up with a piece of