I raised an eyebrow. I wasn’t sure what Jenni could tell me about Connor that I didn’t already know, but I was certainly interested in listening.
@ lunch? I asked.
sure. meet @ *bucks.
cool. c u then
I flipped my phone shut just as the bell rang and quickly joined the swarm of people dispersing to their classrooms.
The Starbucks on Blossom Hill Road is only three miles from school, which is nothing if you are lucky enough to have a car. And a heck of a hike if you’re not. Thankfully, Sam had borrowed the Green Machine that day and was more than happy to give me a ride if a pre-lacrosse-practice caffeine fix was in the mix.
It was one of the larger coffee places in town, decorated in a trendy-chic style that was supposed to make people feel good about spending four dollars on a cup of coffee. Personally, if said coffee was full of creamy syrupy goodness, I thought it was well worth it. Tables lined the walls, filled with people on laptops.
In the center of the room was a circular booth surrounded by tables on all sides where soccer moms chatted in their workout clothes and older couples sat reading books. A few smaller tables dotted the rest of the floor space, and I noticed a blond woman sitting by the windows who kept looking up every time the door opened.
I blinked as she turned her profile our way.
Wait a minute…
“Mom?” I asked.
Mom blinked across the room at me, surprise hitting her face for a second before a smile replaced it and she waved me over. “Hartley!”
I crossed the crowded room, Sam a step behind me.
“Mom, what are you doing here?” I asked, suddenly insanely worried she’d somehow caught wind of my lunch meeting.
A worry that I realized was completely unfounded as she answered, “I’m meeting someone for coffee.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Someone?”
She looked down at her napkin. “Uh-huh.”
“A male someone?”
“Sort of.”
“From the internet?”
“Well…”
“Mom!”
“What?” she asked, putting out her hands palms up. “Match dot com says that coffee is a perfect first date.”
“You’re here on a date?” This was much more worrisome than being followed.
She pulled herself up to her full height, despite the hot pink color spreading from her cheeks to her forehead. “Yes. I’m waiting for my date.”
“This is a disaster. You can’t date!”
“Hartley, don’t you think you’re overreacting just a little?”
“What do you know about this guy?” I asked, ignoring her. “What if he’s crazy? What if he’s some psycho?”
“Hartley,” she said, giving me a head tilt. “He’s not a psycho. I know him well enough to be sure of that.”
“You can’t really get to know anything about a guy through IM, Mom.”
“Which is why we’re meeting in person for coffee,” she said.
I pursed my lips together. “Are you sure you don’t want to take up knitting?”
“Hartley!”
“Fine!” I threw my hands up. “I’m just gonna go sit in the corner now and pretend I don’t know you. But,” I added, “if Cybercreep does anything funny, call me.”
Mom grinned at me. “He’s not a cybercreep, Hartley. He’s a perfectly nice, normal guy.”
“Yeah, they all start out that way…,” I said, letting the warning trail off as I jumped into line behind Sam, all the while keeping one eye on Mom. I watched as the front door opened, her eyes shooting to it with way too much excitement as a guy walked in. He was tall, dark-haired, and dressed in a suit. I held my breath as I watched him cross the room… then sit down at a table with another suit-wearing guy.
Whew. Not my future cyberdad.
I grabbed a skinny caramel macchiato and followed Sam to a table near the back (with a good view of Mom so I could keep an eye on Cybercreep). Sam dug into her feast of a Venti Frappuccino with whipped cream, lemon scone, and a glazed donut.
In two minutes flat, she’d inhaled the whole thing.
“Wow,” I commented.
“What?” She blinked at me.
“Hungry much?”
“Hey, this is my lunch. Besides, I need the extra calories for lacrosse,” she said, licking a couple stray crumbs from her lower lip.
At this rate, all that extra exercise was going to end up adding pounds.
Thankfully, before I could comment, the front door opened again and a familiar brunette, Bumpit-enhanced hairdo walked in.
She spotted us, then pointed to the drink line. Five minutes later, caffeinated beverage in hand, she pulled a chair up to our table.
“Hey. Sorry, wicked long line,” she observed.
I nodded. “You said you wanted to tell me something about Connor?” I prompted.
“Yeah.” She put both elbows on the table and leaned forward. “Look, I know you think I had something to do with Sydney’s death.”
I paused. Was I that transparent?
“What makes you say that?”
“Hello? Other woman? Dude, I watch
Maybe Jenni wasn’t as dumb as I thought.
“Okay, the thought had crossed my mind,” I admitted.
“But I didn’t do it,” she protested. “The truth is I’m dumping Connor.”
Color me shocked. “Why?”
She sighed. “Do you know how hard it is to compete with a dead girl?”
Luckily, no. I shook my head.
“All I hear about is Sydney this, Sydney that,” she continued. “Sydney was going to wear a pink dress to homecoming, and Sydney was going to thank the principal in her homecoming speech. I swear if I hear the name Sydney one more time, I’m gonna lose it. And the worst part is,” she said, leaning in, “I can’t even say anything about it! I mean, I can’t very well put down a dead girl, right?”
I had to agree, it was a tough spot.
“That sucks,” Sam sympathized.
Jenni shrugged. “I guess Connor’s going through some sort of weird survivor’s guilt, but it’s driving me nuts and I can’t take it anymore. Anyway, I just wanted you to know that I’m leaving Connor, so you can cross me off your whole suspects list. Truth is he’s so not worth killing over.”
That I could totally agree with.
“You don’t happen to know where Connor was three nights ago, do you?” I asked.
Jenni screwed up her Proactivly-flawless face. “At home, I guess. Doing homework. We had a quiz in Tipkins’s class yesterday.”
I nodded. I knew. I also knew Connor had suspiciously aced it.
“About that,” I said. “How is Connor doing in that class?”
Jenni sipped loudly at her coffee drink through a lipstick-stained straw. “Awesome. His study partner is Val Michaels. You know her?”
Not personally, but I’d seen her name on the school’s honor roll almost every semester since freshman
