Secrets and Lies

“Looking for Brody?” Justine asked as she popped a cashew into her mouth.

“What? Oh, no. I was just…”

“He’s not here. He has an away game tonight, so he won’t be home until late.” She walked over to the couch and started rearranging the throw pillows. “But you’re staying the night, so I’m sure you’ll get a glimpse of him at some point.”

Before I could say anything, the doorbell rang.

“Coming!” Justine called, hurrying over to the front door. She pulled it open and Melanie, Wendy, and Ryan stepped inside.

“I brought brownies!” Melanie said, presenting a covered tray.

“Thank you,” Justine said. “Set them on the coffee table.”

“Did you get your phone?” Wendy asked, following Ryan to the couch and perching on his lap.

“I did. Thanks for letting me know where it was.”

“Anytime.”

The party was small. Only twelve or so people showed up, and at eight, Justine’s parents left the house, which surprised me. But Justine said her parents trusted her, and really, nothing much happened. Except a couple of the boys started smoking pot.

“You want a hit, Bailey?” Ryan asked.

I shook my head. “No, thank you.”

“I don’t do it, either,” Justine said, lighting some incense. “So don’t feel alone.”

“How long will your parents be gone?” Wendy asked.

“They’re getting di

“Awesome.” She pulled a flask from her purse. “Don’t worry,” she said, seeing me watch her. “Ryan’s driving me home.”

“You’re not staying over?” I asked.

She shook her head. “My mom’s taking me shopping for a prom dress in the morning.”

A few other kids drank, but the party stayed pretty calm. Which was good—I wasn’t a big fan of parties. Or drinking. I’d had sort of a bad experience last summer after taking shots for the first time. It had ended with me passing out, my brother carrying me to the car, and a hangover the next day that I was sure would kill me. I’d gotten my first kiss that night, too, but it wasn’t something I liked to remember.

Everyone was gone by eleven. Well, everyone but Melanie, me, and Serena Hornby, this year’s homecoming queen. We followed Justine upstairs and rolled out our sleeping bags on her bedroom floor. Then we took turns changing into our pajamas in the bathroom upstairs.

After I finished changing, I went back down to the kitchen for a glass of water. I didn’t expect to find Brody standing next to the fridge, eating one of Melanie’s brownies.

“Hey,” he said. Maybe I imagined it, but it kind of seemed like his face lit up when he saw me. “I didn’t know you were here.”

“Yeah.” I’m sure my face was bright red. “I’m staying for Justine’s slumber party… Um, how was your game?”

“Pretty good. We won, but not by much. I did hit a home run, though, so that was kind of cool.”

“Wow. I wish I could have been there to see it,” I said.

“You should come to one of my games sometime,” he said. “I can’t guarantee I’ll bat as well as I did tonight, but I’d really like it if you came.”

“I will,” I said. “Definitely.”

He smiled. “Awesome.”

“I, um, I was just coming down here to get something to drink.”

Brody turned around and opened a cabinet behind him. He was tall enough to reach the top shelf with ease. I always had to hop or climb on a chair to do that. But then, I wasn’t even five feet tall. People always thought I was ten or eleven years old, not fourteen.

“What do you want to drink?” Brody asked, taking a glass from the cabinet. “We’ve got milk, juice, soda, water…”

“I was just going to have water. But I can get it—”

He waved me off. “I got it,” he said. He opened the fridge and pulled out a pitcher of filtered water. “You’re a guest, after all.”

“Thank you.”

“Anytime.”

I looked down and silently congratulated myself on picking out cute pajamas—silky blue shorts and a matching tank top. I couldn’t imagine standing in this kitchen, talking to Brody Frasier, in one of the enormous, faded T-shirts I usually slept in.

“Here you go.” He handed me the glass of water and put the pitcher back in the fridge.

“Thanks.”

We stood there for a while, not looking at each other but not ignoring each other, either, really. I was trying to think of something cool and clever to say, but my mind was a complete blank. I decided it was probably better to just keep my mouth shut than to embarrass myself.

“So,” Brody said. “You’re friends with my sister now, huh?”

I took a sip of my water and nodded. “Yeah. Justine’s great. We only started hanging out recently, but we’ve hit it off.”

“Hmm.” He ate the last bite of his brownie and threw away the paper towel he’d been holding it with. “I probably shouldn’t say this because she’s my sister, but just be caref—”

“Bailey.”

I jumped, almost spilling my water, and turned around. Justine was at the top of the stairs, peering over the banister at Brody and me.

“Oh, sorry to interrupt,” she said. A knowing grin spread across her face, and I blushed. “I just wanted to let you know we’re starting a movie, if you want to join us.”

“Yeah. I’m on my way. Just…” I looked back at Brody, wanting him to finish his sentence from before.

But he just shook his head. “Never mind. Have fun.” He turned toward the living room. “Good night, Justine.”

“Night! Come on, Bailey.”

I finished my water and left my glass in the sink before hurrying upstairs. Melanie and Serena were sitting on the floor, munching on potato chips.

“Movie time,” Serena said, picking up a remote and pointing it at the TV in the corner of Justine’s room. “Time to get our rom-com on.”

“Speaking of movies”—Melanie pointed at Justine’s computer—“is it uploaded yet?”

“It will be soon,” Justine said with a sly smile.

“Is what uploaded?” I asked, settling into my spot on the floor.

“Check your school e-mail tomorrow when you get home,” she said. “You’ll see. It’s just a fu

Chapter Three

I didn’t get a good laugh out of the video Justine sent me. I didn’t think it was fu

She’d sent me a link to a YouTube video, obviously taken on someone’s phone in the girls’ locker room at our school. The camera was at a weird angle, like it was on top of something, looking down, but that didn’t matter. It was in the perfect position to spy on anyone looking in the full-length mirror.

In this case, Elsie James.

At the start of the video, she appeared in nothing but her bra and panties, her hair wet, fresh from a shower. Then she started posing—just like she had the day I walked in on her. These over-the-top, sexy poses. The camera caught them all. And to make it more humiliating, the whole thing had been set to this horrible dirty hip-hop song.

It made Elsie look like an idiot. An almost-naked idiot. And it was on the Internet for anyone to see.

“How could you do that?” I asked Justine on the phone about ten minutes after I watched the video.

“What?” she asked. “It’s fu

It felt like I’d been punched in the stomach. I felt sick.

“You have to take it down,” I told her.

“What?” She was laughing. “Are you kidding?”

“People can see this,” I said. “Anyone can.”

“Yeah, and they already have. I e-mailed it to everyone in my list of contacts, and I’m sure it’s being forwarded all over school as we speak.”