I follow him out of the junkyard and back to his car, suddenly getting the feeling that we’re not alone.

16 | Deceive

Despite the revelation that Zoe has been an evil mastermind this whole time, nothing happens until the middle of the following week.

After combing through it for hours, Mason is unable to find anything of consequence on the backup of my old phone, and it seems that she was several steps ahead of us. We may not have enough to link her directly to my accident just yet, but we certainly have enough to heavily implicate her in what happened to Jacob Griffin.

I feel a tap on my shoulder as I’m depositing my books in my locker on Thursday, causing me to flinch.

Zoe.

Ever since I discovered the cell phone, looking at her makes me apprehensive, whereas I used to feel comforted at best and irritated at worst.

She sidles up next to me as we move through the hallway, her arm jostling against mine, and I work to keep my expression light and neutral. Though try as I might, I can’t completely rid my body of the tension that floods into my bones just from being around her.

“Principal Clayborn called this weird assembly,” she says, sounding annoyed. “I imagine it’s going to be a waste of time.”

“Maybe it’ll be interesting,” I offer, following the flow of people in the direction of the gymnasium.

Zoe scoffs. “Doubtful.”

A short distance ahead, I spot Damien and James. Damien is without his crutches, though he moves a little slower than normal. I haven’t spoken to him since I embarrassed myself the other day, nor do I want to. Knowing he could’ve been involved in what happened that night is enough reason for me to want to stay far away. James too. Mason told me my friends had followed me out. Friends, plural. I can’t trust any of them.

“You’re being really quiet,” Zoe says, her tone changing, and the hair rises on the back of my neck.

“I am?”

She shrugs, expression guarded. “Are you mad at me again or something? You’ve been weird ever since you came over.”

“No,” I emphasize, heart rate picking up as I try to think of an explanation. “I just have a lot on my mind.” She tilts her head. “Stuff at home. With Audrey.”

Something flickers across her face. “Ah. I see.” She pauses. “Does it have to do with Parker?”

My footsteps falter. Her tone is sympathetic rather than accusatory, but the words feel harsh, like a punch to my gut.

“What makes you say that?”

She gives me a look that toes the line between condescending and understanding. “Allie, I’m your best friend,” she remarks. “I know stuff.”