They Just Don't Know You

Chapter 13

Jade's POV

Friday, September 27

Officer Elliott walks with us to the far end of the park, past the Demon Rollercoaster with its blood-red waterfall and the entrance to the Dark Witch Maze. Two girls giggle nervously as a masked attendant hands them each a torch. "You'll need these to navigate the pitch-black lair you're about to experience," he intones. "But be careful along your journey. Fear awaits the further you go."

One of the girls examines her torch, then shines it on the thatched wall of the maze. "These are going to shut off right when we need them, aren't they?" she asks.

"Fear awaits the further you go," the attendant repeats, stepping to one side. A clawed hand shoots out of the wall and makes a grab for the nearest girl, who shrieks and falls back against her friend.

"Gets them every time," Officer Elliott says, lifting the flap to one of the tents. "Here's where I leave you guys. Good luck finding seats."

The bleachers ringing a circular stage are packed, but as Karl and I scan the crowd we spot Kamille waving energetically. "About time!" she says when we reach her. "It's been hell holding these seats." She stands, picking her coat up from the bench beside her, and Karl glances down at a small concession stand set up to the left of the stage.

"I'm going to get a drink. You guys want anything?"

"No, I'm good," I say, and Kamille shakes her head. Karl thuds down the stairs as I squeeze past Kamille in the too-small space. It's not until I sit down that I notice the flash of brunette hair beside me.

"You certainly like to cut it close," Jesy says. She's in a green suit jacket and jeans, a gauzy yellow scarf looped around her neck. Two other girls sit beside her, each holding steaming styrofoam cups. 

I look at her and then at the stage, where Leigh-Anne, Ellie, and the other cheerleaders are lining up. "I thought you were a cheerleader," I say, confused.

Kamille fake-coughs, "Sore point," as Jesy stiffens. 

"I don't have time for cheerleading. I run the school paper." A note of pride creeps into her voice as she gestures towards the aisle in front of the stage, where a man is setting up an oversized camera. "Channel 5 in Burlington is covering the vandalism story based on my article. They're getting local colour."

I lean forward, intrigued despite myself. "The school's letting them?"

"You can't stop the free press," Jesy says smugly. She points towards a striking, fair-haired woman standing next to the camera, microphone dangling from one hand. "That's Leoni. She graduated from Echo Ridge ten years ago and went to Columbia's journalism school." She says it almost reverently, twisting her scarf until it's even more artfully draped. Her outfit would look incredible on TV, which I'm starting to think is the point. "I'm applying there early decision. I'm hoping she'll give me a reference."

On my other side, Kamille plucks at my sleeve. "Band's about to start," she says. Karl returns just in time, a bottle of water in one hand. 

I tear my eyes away from the reporter as dozens of students holding instruments file through the back entrance and array themselves across the stage. I'd been expecting traditional marching band uniforms, but they're all in black tracksuit pants and purple t-shirts that read "Echo Ridge High" across the front in white lettering. Perrie's in the first row, a set of snare drums draped around her neck.

Ashford Campbell jogs on to the stage in the same purple blazer he wore the the assembly last week, and bounds up to a makeshift podium. He adjusts the microphone and raises both hands in the air as people in the stands start to clap. "Good evening, Echo Ridge! You ready for some serious fall fun? We've got a big night planned to support the Echo Ridge Eagles, who are undefeated heading into tomorrow's game against Solsbury High!"