forty-two, forty-two.â
Paigeâs words shattered my concentration. âYour dad wears T-shirts and heâs a geek?â Iâd assumed he spent his time on a yacht sipping champagne, not playing video games. âHow did you turn out so different?â
She glared at me. âWhatâs that supposed to mean? Iâm smart. I got a perfect score on the Seventeen personality test.â
I rolled my eyes. âI mean geekdom is almost as genetic as freckles. Iâm just surprised your dad doesnât rub off on you.â
Paige shrugged. âHe probably doesnât have enough time to rub off. I only get to see him once a month.â
âOh.â That hadnât been the answer I expected. âSorry.â
âItâs no big deal.â She smirked, as if an apology were so out of fashion. âCan you imagine all the lame things heâd make me do if he were around? Heâd probably take me to dorky movies and have me help him shop for better clothes.â She laughed, but it sounded halfhearted and fake.
âYeah.â I forced a laugh too and got back to work, searching for the next number in the combination and the end to the awkwardness.
Paige leaned against the locker next to Katieâs. âHeâs not in prison.â The snotty tone had returned to her voice. âI know thatâs what youâre thinking.â
I shook my head. âPrisoners can have visitors every week,so I never thought that. Remember the number fifteen.â It wasnât the next number in the combination, but I could tell she needed a distraction.
Paige started chanting. âForty-two, fifteen. Forty-two, fifteen. Forty-two ⦠fine!â She stopped and turned to me, sighing deeply. âIf youâre going to make such a big deal of it, Iâll tell you.â
For once, I actually wasnât curious for dirt on someoneâs private life. âUm ⦠okay.â
âMy dad left us, and my mom had a better lawyer, so she got full custody. She promised nothing would change, but sheâs so controlling.â Her nostrils flared with emotion. âThe only time I get to see him is when I sneak out during her monthly garden club meeting.â
Iâd found the last number to Katieâs combination, but I didnât open the locker. I wasnât sure if it was worse to lose someone entirely, like I had, or to lose someone just enough to make it painful to see them again.
âWhy donât you ask your mom to let you visit him?â
She rolled her eyes and snapped her gum. âDidnât you hear? I have absolutely no power over her.â
This from the girl who controlled one of the most influential groups of students at Brighton. Or maybe that was why she controlled them ⦠because the rest of her life wasnât up to her.
Paige frowned and pointed at the locker. âHave you figured this out or do we need to call a locksmith?â
âOh. Right.â I jerked on the lever and pulled the door open.
Katieâs locker was surprisingly neat. The space had been sectioned off with colorful plastic shelves so that her textbooks rested on the bottom and her binders and personal effects lay across the middle. The top shelf, however, was a mystery.
â What is that?â Paige prodded at a red metallic ball, the only thing occupying the space. It was the size and shape of a grapefruit and had a nozzle mounted on top.
âHair spray?â I suggested.
Paige shook her head. âKatieâs hair doesnât look crunchy enough.â
âPerfume?â
âIn a container like that?â She sniffed at me. âItâs not like youâd know, anyway.â
I ignored her and chewed on my lip. âThis might sound weird, but it kind of looks like a fire extinguisher. Iâll search for it on the Internet when I get a chance.â
I took my cell phone out and snapped a picture of the container, then moved on
C. J. Cherryh
Learning to Kill: Stories
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