The school library is packed with loads of kids in my year group, as well as some that must have known Jasmine well enough that she didn't push them away with her bitchy attitude. The police have been watching over us in here for ages, even though I have no idea exactly how long we've been sitting/standing in here because the clock on the wall stopped working years ago.
"I don't even see why I need to be here," I mutter quietly.
"You were a witness. Besides, the police need to interview you. You found evidence," Olivia convinces me.
"Let me guess? It looks suspicious."
"A little. Look, I'm not saying you're criminally responsible, but you do need to confirm how you found it and like everyone else, you need to tell them your relationship to Jasmine and where you were the night she was killed."
"Fine," I say. I give the room a glance over, looking for the newly crowned HBIC, Naomi Richards. My previous best friend is over-dressed for the day, an LBD matched with an expensive pearl necklace. Her two-inch high heels make her taller than she is, creating the tall impeccable girl everyone in this school fears. Although, anyone is her posé isn't really scared of her, as I learned. Before my brother died and my Dad left, I was one of them. Then I was left out to dry, quickly followed by Olivia as a stand for me. Dianna held on for longer, clutching to the popularity and attention she desired that she never acquired from her own mother. But neither Olivia or Dianna knew how close Naomi and I were, how much I knew. Everyday Naomi and I make comments to each other, attacking each other's self-esteem and integrity, trying to prove a point. I haven't stayed up to date with her life for three years, not caring much for it. So much so I never knew that her closest family member had passed or that she was close enough to Jasmine to care. Or maybe she didn't, and she's being forced to be here as much as I am.
I don't give myself a moment to think over my choice, nor do I let myself ponder the thought of approaching a grieving ex-bestie, but I do it anyway. She looks shocked and disgusted to see me in my casual jeans and mid-riff, but also something else. Relieved?
"Hey," I say casually. Despite still hating her and wanting to dig at the fact that she's wearing the earrings I got her four years earlier for her birthday, I act like this is normal. Like we've gone back in time three years.
"Hello," she responds. At least she didn't tell me to go back to PayLess.
"You holding up?" I can feel the old simplicity of life sinking back in, my inner popular girl settling back. It's like second nature, besides spies. It was so easy to pretend to fit in with rich people in this small town. You can easily dress perfect, say the perfect things and act perfectly, and people will believe you. But I have to remind myself that that façade broke down ages ago and I'm not the same person I used to be. I changed, or I tried to.
"What do you want, Katelyn?"
"I see you remember my name, Naomi."
"I see you remember mine."
"How couldn't I?" I sigh, looking around. "Look, I know you don't like me, but I was wondering something."
"Sorry, Katelyn, but I don't think you can afford my outfit."
"Oh, I know," I say dismissively. "I don't care for last season's fashion."
She scoffs, crossing her arms. I know she does this for when she's getting bored of the person, so I hurry up my act.
"What did you do with the purple spray paint I gave you?"
And that's when I notice the other emotion. Fear. She's scared of people finding it, especially in Jasmine's best friend/rival's house.
YOU ARE READING
Protection Crew
Mystery / Thriller[THIS BOOK CONTAINS MENTIONS OF SUICIDE, MENTAL ILLNESS, MURDER, SEXUAL ASSAULT AND ABUSE] [First Book in a Three Book Series] "Kat! You know the rules. No guns, no individual missions, and especially no murder." "It's good to break the rules someti...
