The Good Girls

Chapter 25

"UMA? ARE YOU EVEN LISTENING to me?"

The sound of Harry's voice through the Bluetooth snapped Uma back into reality. Her mind had been wandering—and so had her car, apparently. It was Thursday night, and she'd been driving around aimlessly for at least an hour, something she often did when she just needed some quiet time to sort out her thoughts. Squinting through her windshield, she realized that she had steered out of her own neighborhood and all the way to the outskirts of Auradon.

"Sorry, I'm here." She scrambled to catch up to what Harry had been saying over the phone. Something about a sci-fi movie marathon at a little art house in Auroria the following weekend. "That sounds great. And—oh. The whole team is bugging me to go to Freddie's Halloween party tomorrow. You'll come, right?"

"A Halloween party?" Harry sounded circumspect.

"I'm not really in the mood, either, but maybe it will be fun," Uma said. "We'll dress up, have some beers . . ."

Harry snorted sarcastically. "Since when do you know me as someone who likes to dress up and drink beer?"

Something inside Uma twisted—she'd really hoped Harry would just say yes without complaint. "I'm planning on going as a UDub cheerleader, if that helps," she said enticingly, trying to keep the mood light. "It involves a super-short mini . . ."

He sighed. "Okay, okay. I'll go, but only for you." She heard him swallow. "Are you okay? You've been kind of . . . strange, lately. Not really yourself."

"Yes! I'm fine. Just really tired." She yawned as if to emphasize the point. "I haven't been sleeping well. It's making it hard to think straight."
"So then nothing's going on?"

Harry sounded more resigned than irritated. Uma hated keeping stuff from him, building up the stacks of lies between them. Even little things: Though her parents had been informed, she'd kept it from Harry that a psychological profiler had questioned her. She could have explained it easily to him, but she'd decided not to. And then there was everything worse: What if he knew about Jay? And how would he see her if he knew she'd sat in a circle of girls and named people they wanted dead—and now those very people were getting murdered right and left?

"Is it the stuff with Audrey's stepmom?" Harry guessed.

Uma took a breath. "Yeah," she admitted. The story had been all over school. "I just feel so bad for Audrey," she said.

Harry sniffed. "I thought you told me Audrey hated her stepmom."

Oops. Uma had told him that. "Well, hate is a strong word," she said quickly. Then she looked out the window. "You know what? I think I'm lost."
"Where are you?"

"On the edge of town. At least I think I am."
"What're you doing all the way out there?" His voice was sharp.

Uma braked as a pickup truck pulled out in front of her. "I don't know," she said absently. "I just sort of . . . ended up here."

"Maybe we shouldn't talk on the phone while you're driving. And maybe you shouldn't be driving when you're so tired."

"Yeah," she sighed. "I'll call you when I'm home. And hey—"

"Yeah?"

"I'm excited about that movie marathon. Really."

Harry clucked his tongue. "Well, I'm not excited about the party, but hey. At least it's an excuse to see you in a cheerleader skirt."

Uma tapped the button on her steering wheel to disconnect the call, and the car went silent. There was another secret she was keeping from Harry, too: She and Gil had exchanged a few texts in the past several days. Nothing serious, mostly just a random hi or how are you feeling, but still. Gil was her ex. Harry wouldn't be happy about that.