“She ratted out her best friend,” Sam pointed out.
“Look, I told you I was sick. I had a fever. I couldn’t have killed Sydney that day even if I wanted to.”
“Then where was Drea at three thirty?” I asked, turning on the cheerleader.
“Me?” she squeaked out. “Why would I want to hurt Sydney?”
“Why did you pick up the cash for Nicky today?” I countered. “Maybe he told you to do another little favor for him and silence Sydney.”
Drea paled beneath her layers of makeup. “Nicky would never ask me to do that. He’s a sweetheart.”
“A sweetheart who sells illegal cheats.”
“But he doesn’t hurt anyone!” Drea protested.
“Ha!” Sam countered. “You think messing with a grading curve is a victimless crime? I’m pulling an A-minus average this semester. A-minus!”
“Dude,” Nicky said, putting his hands out in front of him again. “Enough. I didn’t kill Sydney and neither did Drea, okay? Period. End of story.”
Only it did not feel like end of story to me. “Look, you can either tell us where you were,” I warned, “or we can turn you in to the police and you can talk to them.”
Nicky put his hands palms up. “Turn me in for what? I haven’t done anything.”
“Seriously?” Sam asked, putting her hands on her hips.
Nicky grinned. “Well, anything that you can prove. I’ll deny everything I just told you.”
“What about the cash?” I asked.
“Drea found it. Plain and simple.”
“Quite a coincidence.”
“What were you doing buying cheats anyway?” Nicky said, giving Sam a pointed look.
“It was for a story!”
“Says you.”
“Wait-what do you mean ‘says you’?” Sam asked nervously.
“Anything you say is your word against mine. You turn me in, I turn Sam in to the vice principal for trying to cheat. Dig?”
Sam narrowed her eyes at Nicky, thinking all sorts of dirty words if I could read them correctly. “You fluff-eating son of a monkey with a rash up his-”
“Fine,” I said, breaking in before Sam could get any more creative. “I guess we’ll just have to find your ‘source’ another way.”
Nicky shrugged, then leaned back in his seat and dropped a chow mien noodle into his smug mouth. “Good luck with that, girls.”
I hated to admit that he was right. We were in serious need of some luck.
Chapter Ten
“I GUESS NICKY’S A DEAD END,” SAM OBSERVED AS WE walked back through the mall.
“Agreed.” Unfortunately. “But maybe we need to look at this a different way.”
“Such as?”
“Well, what if Nicky’s right and Sydney didn’t know who was giving Nicky the test answers?”
She frowned. “Okay. But then who killed her?”
“Sydney being caught cheating affected other people. What if her murder-”
“Twittercide,” Sam supplied.
“Right. What if her Twittercide wasn’t because of the cheating itself but fallout from getting caught?”
“Like a pissed-off former BFF?,” Sam asked.
I nodded. “Quinn had good reason to be mad at Sydney, true, but she also had a pretty good alibi. On the other hand, I can think of at least one other person who might not have been happy about Sydney being kicked off the homecoming court. Her boyfriend.”
Sam’s eyes lit up. “Totally! Connor and Sydney were shoo-ins for king and queen.”
“But with Sydney out of the running, Connor was pretty much out of it, too,” I said. “Which he might not have been too happy about.”
“Unhappy enough to kill?” Sam asked.
I nodded. “Let’s go find out.”
Connor Crane was captain of the soccer team and starting quarterback for the football team. Luckily he was also on the water polo team with Kyle, who texted Connor’s number to Sam, who then texted Connor, who said he was at work but would meet us at Nickel City in two hours.
Which was just enough time for Sam to get to her tutoring appointment. Sam and I coughed the Green Machine up to Do the Math! Tutoring only forty minutes behind schedule. Sam rushed in to conquer calculus while I waited in the car. I wished I’d taken the time to grab something to eat at the food court before we left, as the scent of fried smoke was making me hungry. Instead, I pulled out my phone and texted Chase, updating him on our interview with Nicky.
where did he get the cheats? he asked once I’d finished.
he wont say.
guesses?
I leaned back in the vinyl seat, feeling my forehead crease in thought as I looked out the window and watched a squirrel scuttle across the tutor’s parking lot.
he had drea pick up cash 4 him. mayB he had someone else stealing the cheats 4 him.
There was a pause, then Chase texted back.
doesn’t like 2 do dirty work himself?
doesn’t like 2 get caught. he’s crooked but smart.
next step? Chase asked.
going 2 see BF connor @ Nckle CiT. mayB syd’s death unrel8d to cheats.
I could feel Chase contemplating this angle in the silence on the other end. Finally he sent back, i’ll meet u there. time?
I texted back and agreed to meet up in an hour. I could only hope that Connor was a little more forthcoming than Nicky had been.
Nickel City was an arcade where for five cents you could play any video game in the place. The catch? They were all vintage oldies. As was the building. The floors were slightly sticky from countless spilled sodas, the walls smelled like stale pizza, and the arcade consoles themselves were chipped, faded, and slick where sweaty palms had clutched joysticks in hundreds of death grips.
As soon as we walked in the door, I spied Chase waiting for us next to an ancient Ms. Pac-Man machine.
“Hey,” he said. “Connor’s over there playing Gran Turismo.” He gestured to a machine along the back wall.
“You talk to him yet?” I asked.
He shook his head. “Waiting for you two.”
“Let’s do it,” Sam said, striding toward him. Chase and I followed a step behind.
“Hey,” he said, leaning in. “No jasmine today, huh?”
I ducked my head as I walked. “I told you it was the bushes.”
“Bummer. They were nice-smelling bushes.”
I ignored the comment (and the blush it created in my cheeks), instead focusing on Connor.
With blond hair, blue eyes, and zero acne, Connor Crane was currently the secret crush of half the female HHH population. And a couple of the males, too.
Personally, I’d always thought there was something just a little too perfect about him. His look was as carefully planned as the dressed mannequins in the Abercrombie windows-each hair of his casual messy-do gelled into place with precision to look carelessly cool, his outfits meticulously chosen to look like he’d just pulled something random from his closet. It was the kind of effortless look that everyone knew required a lot of effort.
