Odd One Out

CHAPTER 12

Naya
Friday, October 17

"It was brutal," I whispered to Ellis in the hallway. "She stared at me with so much...hatred, as if I really was guilty of a murder—"

"That's just how she's supposed to act, Naya."

Almost immediately after I got home, I could feel my entire body drumming with electricity, and not the good kind. It felt less like getting your first kiss and more like getting your first detention.

Unable to sleep, I texted Ellis about what happened. Not Laney, not any of my friends, but none other than Harry Ellis who was the second person in line after Francisco who I had sworn to myself I wouldn't talk to. I was now well past breaking that promise.

Despite his typically annoying essence, my mind eased slightly when I found out he had been brought into the station as well. We had started to text last night but suddenly he stopped responding, and it wasn't until I tried to ignore him in the halls the next day that he explained why.

"They could be checking our phones," he had told me. "No conversation is private anymore."

We were supposed to be rushing to our last class of the day, but we were taking our time getting there. Walking with him, as strange as it was, was the most normal event happening in my school life. I was not happy that he and I were tangled up in this mess with the other three, but it felt nice to know I was not tangled up in it alone.

"They pressured me into saying some things that I would not have normally said," Ellis said somberly, and I turned to look at him.

"What do you mean?"

"I..." he stopped for a minute, his eyes on the floor but not quite focused on any of the faint tiles underneath us. "They just really stress you out, y'know? They really squeeze the information out of you—"

"What information are you talking about?" I stepped in front of him abruptly. "What did you say?"

Did he throw us all under the bus?

"Nothing! I mean—"

Ellis looked around the hallway cautiously before lowering his head and his voice towards me slightly. "Nothing to do with the case, at least. Because I didn't remember — I mean I don't remember anything from that night, but somehow she still got the best of me. I had to talk about my mom's past alcoholism for fuck's sake. With my mom there with me. She didn't even say anything, and she's still not talking to me."

His hand tightened on the one strap of his backpack that hung carelessly on his peach colored sweater. Even though the halls were nearly empty, this felt like an incredibly private moment. I didn't even notice my voice becoming so hushed until I started speaking.

"I'm sorry," I told him honestly. "This is so messed up."

It wasn't until I felt him slightly tense up that I realized I had set my hand warmly on his upper arm. Immediately after realizing this, I slid it off.

"If only," he sighed deeply, moving away from me to lean against the wall. "If only I'd just stayed home that night."

The buzzing in my back pocket caused both our attentions to spike, just as the final bell rang. Quickly reading the message on it, I turned my screen so he could read the message as well.

"Me too," I told him.

Vik
Thursday, October 16

Detective Summers wasn't planning on letting me go. I could see it with every movement of her eyes, the way her mouth curved and dipped when I spoke, the posture of authority she held with every stance, with every movement.