auditorium. The two sophomore girls had already disappeared. The other boys had their heads together as they walked down the central aisle, probably discussing plans for the weekend.
Relieved the day was over, Lindsey went backstage to retrieve her purse and tote bag. As she picked up the latter, she remembered that she’d planned to go back by her room to go through the test files.
That thought triggered the next, a nagging sense that she’d missed something important in her conversation with Andrea. As she walked toward the control panel to shut off the lights, the memory of the girl’s expression haunted her. She pushed the switch, throwing the backstage area into darkness.
When she walked back onstage, she realized that daylight was still flooding into the auditorium from the double doors, open at the back. Her body canted to balance the weight of the book bag slung on her back, Jean was trudging down the aisle toward them, sneakers squeaking on the tile floor.
If the rest of the kids hadn’t disappeared in the minute or so that she’d been backstage, Lindsey would probably have let it go. Jean was a senior, but Lindsey had seen her talking with Andrea a few times in the hall last year. Maybe their lockers were close to one another. Or maybe…
“Jean?”
The girl turned, her brown eyes narrowing as she tried to see into the darkness. “Yes, ma’am?”
The thought of shouting her question across the auditorium was unappealing. “Wait up a minute, please.”
Obediently the girl swung her backpack off her shoulder, lowering it to rest on the floor. After taking a last look around to make sure they’d left the stage as they’d found it, Lindsey hurried down the stairs, choosing the narrower side aisle to make her way toward the front.
Jean’s eyes tracked her progress. She was probably wondering what this was all about. And now that it was time to broach the subject, Lindsey was wondering if doing so was a good idea.
“Something wrong?” Jean sounded apprehensive.
“I wanted to ask you something.”
“Yes, ma’am?”
“You’re friends with Andrea Moore, aren’t you?”
Something shifted in the girl’s eyes. “You couldn’t call us friends exactly. We don’t have a lot in common.”
“Oh. Sorry, I thought I’d seen the two of you together.”
“Maybe last year. Not anymore.”
Hardly promising, but Lindsey was in so deep it seemed she had nothing to lose by pursuing this. “Do you know if she’s having problems this year? Something at home? Guy trouble?”
Jean’s eyes seemed unwilling to meet hers. “Sorry, Ms. Sloan. I really wouldn’t know. We don’t talk.”
“Okay. I just—” Lindsey hesitated, aware that she had already stepped beyond the bounds of her own personal guidelines concerning student confidences. “I guess it was someone else.”
Jean nodded. “Is that all you wanted?”
“Can I help you carry some of those?” Lindsey nodded toward the overstuffed backpack.
“I can manage,” the girl said, again hoisting the bag to her shoulder. “You’ve got your own stuff. I’m used to this.”
“If you’re sure…”
“Quarter of three in the north parking lot. Right?”
“That’s right. Have a good night.”
“You, too.”
Jean turned, heading in the opposite direction from that Lindsey would take to her car. Her mother would be waiting to pick her up, but Lindsey would circle the school and make sure that everyone had a ride home.
Home. At one time the thought of going there, taking off her clothes and her shoes and sitting down to dinner in front of the TV would have seemed like heaven. Now, however…
Even as she wondered if Jace would be keeping his vigil tonight, she knew the answer. That was a bridge she’d burned pretty effectively. A tendency on her part. Unlike Shannon’s on-again-off-again relationship with Rick Carlisle, once Lindsey knew something wasn’t going to work, she didn’t see any reason to belabor the point. Usually
Relieved the day was over, Lindsey went backstage to retrieve her purse and tote bag. As she picked up the latter, she remembered that she’d planned to go back by her room to go through the test files.
That thought triggered the next, a nagging sense that she’d missed something important in her conversation with Andrea. As she walked toward the control panel to shut off the lights, the memory of the girl’s expression haunted her. She pushed the switch, throwing the backstage area into darkness.
When she walked back onstage, she realized that daylight was still flooding into the auditorium from the double doors, open at the back. Her body canted to balance the weight of the book bag slung on her back, Jean was trudging down the aisle toward them, sneakers squeaking on the tile floor.
If the rest of the kids hadn’t disappeared in the minute or so that she’d been backstage, Lindsey would probably have let it go. Jean was a senior, but Lindsey had seen her talking with Andrea a few times in the hall last year. Maybe their lockers were close to one another. Or maybe…
“Jean?”
The girl turned, her brown eyes narrowing as she tried to see into the darkness. “Yes, ma’am?”
The thought of shouting her question across the auditorium was unappealing. “Wait up a minute, please.”
Obediently the girl swung her backpack off her shoulder, lowering it to rest on the floor. After taking a last look around to make sure they’d left the stage as they’d found it, Lindsey hurried down the stairs, choosing the narrower side aisle to make her way toward the front.
Jean’s eyes tracked her progress. She was probably wondering what this was all about. And now that it was time to broach the subject, Lindsey was wondering if doing so was a good idea.
“Something wrong?” Jean sounded apprehensive.
“I wanted to ask you something.”
“Yes, ma’am?”
“You’re friends with Andrea Moore, aren’t you?”
Something shifted in the girl’s eyes. “You couldn’t call us friends exactly. We don’t have a lot in common.”
“Oh. Sorry, I thought I’d seen the two of you together.”
“Maybe last year. Not anymore.”
Hardly promising, but Lindsey was in so deep it seemed she had nothing to lose by pursuing this. “Do you know if she’s having problems this year? Something at home? Guy trouble?”
Jean’s eyes seemed unwilling to meet hers. “Sorry, Ms. Sloan. I really wouldn’t know. We don’t talk.”
“Okay. I just—” Lindsey hesitated, aware that she had already stepped beyond the bounds of her own personal guidelines concerning student confidences. “I guess it was someone else.”
Jean nodded. “Is that all you wanted?”
“Can I help you carry some of those?” Lindsey nodded toward the overstuffed backpack.
“I can manage,” the girl said, again hoisting the bag to her shoulder. “You’ve got your own stuff. I’m used to this.”
“If you’re sure…”
“Quarter of three in the north parking lot. Right?”
“That’s right. Have a good night.”
“You, too.”
Jean turned, heading in the opposite direction from that Lindsey would take to her car. Her mother would be waiting to pick her up, but Lindsey would circle the school and make sure that everyone had a ride home.
Home. At one time the thought of going there, taking off her clothes and her shoes and sitting down to dinner in front of the TV would have seemed like heaven. Now, however…
Even as she wondered if Jace would be keeping his vigil tonight, she knew the answer. That was a bridge she’d burned pretty effectively. A tendency on her part. Unlike Shannon’s on-again-off-again relationship with Rick Carlisle, once Lindsey knew something wasn’t going to work, she didn’t see any reason to belabor the point. Usually
Similar Books
