Classes seem to drag on forever until we can finally head out to the bleachers and watch the Track Team slowly turn up in their shorts and pulled up socks, stretching and chatting together. Vanessa instantly sits up, alert, scanning the boys' faces as if they'll have THIEF written across their foreheads in red ink.
"We should really be looking at their feet!" I say, leaning forward and fixing my gaze with laser precision at their shoes.
"Why would they bother turning up if they didn't have their sneakers? Anyway, who doesn't have more than one pair?"
I stay quiet. I actually don't have more than one pair of sneakers, but it wasn't worth mentioning that to Vanessa.
"But I guess you could see if any of them are wearing brand new shoes ... or maaaaaybe super old ones ..." she pauses and looks at me, making a face, "you know I don't think shoes are the way to go."
"Well, actually there was this sort of diary in there too." I admit.
"Diary?!" Vanessa giggles.
Exactly the kind of reaction I thought she'd have.
"Not exactly a 'Dear Diary' kind of thing. It's more like poetry, or at least there's a lot of feeling in what's there."
"Ooooh that's what you meant by 'Book-Boy'! Can I see it?" She spreads her fingers, itching to get her hands on the thing.
"No!" I surprise even myself with my sharp tone. "I mean, I left it at home ... sorry."
The lie sounds lame and feeble.
"Suit yourself!" Vanessa shrugs.
"Hey, there's Alex!" I see him across the field and stand up to wave him over, glad of the distraction.
He spots me and climbs up the bleachers to meet us. "Hey! What are you guys doing over here? Suddenly interested in sports?" He flops down beside me and pushes the hair out of his eyes in a smooth movement.
"Erggggh do I have to explain my genius again? Running shoes!" Vanessa bristles.
"Jeez, calm down, I was only asking."
"I was a bit slow on the uptake too. 'Nessa thinks the boy who has my bag is on the Track Team."
"Oh yeah?" Alex gives us a lopsided, sardonic grin. "We're still on that topic, are we?"
"Ooooh yeah, and I'm the only one with any halfway decent ideas so button up and look for a sensitive jock!" Vanessa says, swatting at him but not breaking her attention on the boys on the field.
"A sensitive jock?" Alex raises an eyebrow but lowers his voice to avoid Vanessa's wrath.
"There's a book." I whisper, feeling the thrill of the whole conspiracy sweep over me. I draw closer to Alex. "In with the shoes and everything. It's a sort of journal."
"Did you read it?" He looks just the right amount of surprised and intrigued.
"A bit of it, I was looking for a name."
He raises his eyebrow again but this time with, what?
Disapproval?
I'm not sure.
"I mean, how could I not?" I sit back a little, he makes me feel guilty and I hate that.
Alex leans away from me too as if repulsed. "No, I mean, I totally would if I were you it's just not exactly 'classic Harlow'."
YOU ARE READING
His Dark Words
Teen FictionWhen Harlow accidentally takes the wrong bag at school she discovers a journal written by a mysterious, tortured boy inside. She becomes obsessed with discovering who it belongs to and how she can find him before it's too late. Will she find the rea...
