GREY

I clicked on my phone and checked the time, then sighed and turned to Dash. "English starts in two minutes. He's gonna be late."

"Yeah." Dash nodded. "Looks like you're r—"

"Guys!" came Cody's voice as he ambled through the French door letting out to the courtyard. "Sorry I'm late," he panted. "I was helping my sister. She and her fiancé just got in last night."

I quirked an eyebrow. "And what, that's your excuse for ditching yesterday when we were following Ja—"

"Shh!" Cody shrieked, holding a finger to his lips.

"Wha—dude, what're you—?"

He nodded his head over my shoulder, in the direction of Mrs. Cabot's classroom.

Dash and I twisted around in time to see Jacquarious trudge through the ivory door and sidle down the hall, the weight of his backpack straddling his shoulders.

"Uh...where's he going?" I whispered, just as the bell for the start of first period jingled out above us.

"Crap! We're late!" Dash shrieked, racing across the smoothed wood with me and Cody right behind him.

We barreled through the door just as a tall and burly man stood up from behind Mrs. Cabot's desk.

Our classmates were chattering all around, and we did our best to take our seats without arousing notice—or suspicion—from the substitute teacher who could've doubled as a bouncer at a night club.

"Mornin'," the man mumbled gruffly as he lumbered over to the podium at the front of the room. "I'm Mr. Angus, and I'm subbin' for Regina...er, Mrs. Cabot." He rifled through a set of pages splayed in front of him. "Says here you lot had an essay due last night. Since she hasn't graded 'em all yet, she said you can treat today like a free period. So, um...yeah. Talk among yerselves or somethin'." He waved his hand dismissively, then trundled back to Mrs. Cabot's desk to retake his seat.

Dude seems really out of it, I thought. But hey, I wasn't about to spend an entire free period looking a gift horse in its grizzled mouth dusted with the scent of cigarette smoke.

I turned to Dash and Cody and grinned, and the three of us got up to shove our desks together as our classmates all around us scurried to do the same.

"Whew," Dash exhaled once the front ends of our desks were pushed together to form a triangle. "That was a close one. I half expected the sub to lay us out for being late."

"Still can't believe that Quarious guy beat us here," Cody sniggered.

"Dude, he beat you here," I needled. "Me and Dash were only late 'cause we were waiting for you."

Cody looked off. "Yeah, well...like I said. I had to help out my sister."

"Whatever helps you sleep at night," I said, rolling my eyes with a chuckle.

"Shut up." Cody elbowed my arm.

I chuckled again, glanced up and across the room back to Mr. Angus, whose narrowed gaze seemed fixed on some indeterminable point in the distance, arms folded across his chest and covering the lapels of his wrinkled, dark brown trenchcoat.

For real, what is that guy's deal—?

Click!

My thoughts were cut short by the classroom door's snapping lock, the knob twisting left as the wood slid open and a tall blond boy strode inside, windswept hair catching in the breeze as he turned toward me, Dash, and Cody.

"Brayden!" Dash called. "Dude, over here!?" He waved as the guy smiled and waved back.

"Hey, guys," he said with a nod before heading over to Mr. Angus carrying a set of papers in his hand. As I turned back to Dash and Cody, I glimpsed the wandering eyes of several girls on the rows behind us following Brayden's trek.

I shook my head knowingly, just as another student strode through the door after Brayden, a girl in a short-cut uniform skirt who carried papers of her own and wore a small smile as she stared at the floor, walking up to wait patiently behind him.

I knew I'd seen her before, probably cheering at one of our games, but I couldn't quite place her name—Lizzie? Annabeth? I mulled over it as Brayden exchanged words with Mr. Angus before handing him the topmost page he was holding.

Begrudgingly, the man signed the sheet.

"What're they doing?" Cody puzzled.

"Probably getting him to sign their schedule changes," Dash offered.

"Schedule changes?" I quirked a brow. "Thought Brayden said his family's flight wasn't coming in until this morning. How'd he get a change request in that fast?"

"I mean, he still plays ball," Dash said, turning to me. "He gets his schedule early like the rest of us. Probably just sent a request in over the break."

I glanced back at Mrs. Cabot's desk, where Brayden had retaken his schedule. He nodded once at Mr. Angus before stepping aside to make way for the girl behind him, stuffing both hands in his pockets and looking off to the right before she could meet his eyes.

Cody chuckled to himself as Brayden shuffled over to where we'd settled; he dragged a seat toward us while we pulled our three desks apart to make room for a fourth.

"What's so funny?" I asked the still-chuckling Cody.

"Oh, nothing." He elbowed Brayden's arm as he sat. "Just thinking about how bad this guy's English grade's gonna tank this semester. What with Little Miss Drugstore flipping her hair in front of him all period."

A flush of red surged across Brayden's face, his eyes darting off. "Man, shut up," he mumbled.

"Aw, come on. We're all friends here." Cody slid an arm across Brayden's shoulder, then turned to me and Dash. "So, boys, care to place your bets?"

"Bets?" I asked.

Cody's grip on Brayden's shoulder tightened. "On how long it'll take Big Bad Blondie here to get the stones to actually ask out Mary B—"

"Dude!" Brayden barked at him.

Cody's lips curled into a mischievous grin.

Oh, right! Mary Beth—that's her name!

Dash sighed. "Alright, Cody, you've had your fun. Lay off, man."

Brayden lowered his head. "I, um...I actually did talk to her in the principal's office," he said just above a whisper.

"Bull," Cody sniggered.

"It's true, okay?" Brayden's eyes waded back to the front of the classroom and locked on Mary Beth, smooth waves of chestnut hair swaying as they fell behind her shoulders. "We were getting our new schedules at the same time, and...there was this guy standing in the hallway chatting up some lady."

"Wait," Cody froze. "What'd this guy look like?"

"Couldn't really see him, just his backpack. Oh, and...I think he was black."

"Ah, must be Jacquarious," Dash said. "Me and Grey met him yesterday. Seems like a cool dude."

I caught Cody rolling his eyes. "Grey and I," he corrected Dash.

Dash shot him a look, then turned back to Brayden. "So anyway, how were the Bahamas, dude?"

"Man, that trip was awesome," Brayden beamed. "Totally worth missing the first day of school."

"If it'd been me, I'da skipped the whole week," I said, laughing.

"Maybe I should've for real." He grinned. "By the way, did you guys see that crazy news story this morning?"

"No, Brayden." Cody shook his head, holding back a giggle. "No one but you would watch the news before coming to school."

"Oh, come on. I was trying to find the cooking channel!"

"That doesn't make it better," Cody snorted. "I swear, you're lucky you're so handsome, dude."

"Cody, lay off," Dash ordered.

"I'm just sayin'." He held up both hands.

I twisted to face Brayden. "...Was it the shooting at that ice cream shop?" I asked. "I think I got a ping on my phone about it."

"Yeah, that's the one," Brayden answered. "Cops said there were two kids on the scene and one of 'em actually saw the dead guy get shot."

"Man, that's freaky," Dash mused.

"Yeah," I shuddered. "I can't even imagine seeing something like that."

"Did they say how old the kids were?" Dash asked.

Brayden shook his head.

"Probably trying to keep their names out of the headlines," I offered. "Do they even know why the guy was killed?"

"I bet it was drugs," Cody said indifferently. "Browning Heights in the middle of the night—definitely drugs."

"Maybe," I mused. "But whoever the kids were, they couldn't be much younger than us."

Brayden tilted his head. "What makes you say that?"

"Well, how else would they make it to an ice cream shop that late if they couldn't drive?" I rubbed my chin. "And that begs another question. What were they doing out there in the first place?"

Cody chuckled. "Whoa, there, Sherlock. Maybe they were just getting ice cream."

"Well...well, yeah, but..." I looked away, felt blush burning on my cheeks. "Yeah, I guess that makes sense."

"It's okay, Grey." Dash patted a hand over my shoulder, stifling his own laughter. "Cody's just jealous of your private-eye skills."

"Yeah," Cody sniggered. "And your dangling participles."

I grinned at that last part, let out a snort of my own as I continued to stare into the distance—eyes poring over the other students and the never-ending torrent of conversation, the unkiltered and bleary chorus of high voices intermingling with deeper ones. I swept the whiteboard and its markers with my gaze, landing at last on our English teacher's desk and the substitute who filled it.

Mr. Angus still wore that same scowl he'd flashed earlier, brows scrunched together and trenchcoat unshed. His ruffled coattails of muted sepia fell in unkempt, scraggly folds past the wood and metal rooted to the floor—and from beneath them, for only so fleeting a moment, the tiniest speck of red seemed to peek out, to waver bashfully into the light.