The inside of his truck is spotless, even the beat up carpet under my feet is freshly vacuumed. A little round air freshener hangs from his rear view mirror, right next to his championship lacrosse medal.

The leather dash is worn and faded grey. The old radio has been removed, a fancy new deck installed. It glows red, music gently throbbing through the speakers. I recognize the song. It’s one of my favorite bands. The music is upbeat and peppy and I start humming along without thinking.

Bruno slides in and smiles. He’s gotten a haircut since the last time I saw him. His dark hair is shorn close to his scalp, too short to comb, but long enough to run his fingers through before grinding into gear.

“I didn’t know you liked Matt & Kim. They’re one of my favorite bands.” I say, carefully crossing my legs.

He raises one shoulder in a half shrug as we drive off. “I know,” he says pointedly.

I sit back, a little surprised. “How do you know?”

“I can be mysterious too, you know.”

I shake my head softly. “Fair enough.”

I ask him about his summer, trying nonchalantly to steer the conversation toward the past few weeks, trying to dig out any info about Logan’s missing days. He talks about everything but Logan. I can’t blame him really, it’s probably sore spot. Still, I need the info.

We pull in and I stare at the front doors. People are milling around, hugging each other and talking. I catch sight of Kaylee and her roving band of followers as they stride into the school like a pack of wolves in high heels.

I suck in a deep breath, deliberately trying to look even more nervous than I feel.

“You okay?” he asks.

I nod once.

“Do you think they will have grief counselors and stuff?”

Last year when some freshman died in a car accident, they had grief counselors stationed in the library for a week. It was weird and disruptive, and basically an excuse to get out of that test you forgot to prepare for or that class you hated.

He sighs. “No. School policy. They don’t do that in cases of suicide. Don’t want to glamorize it.”

That makes my head snap up.

“Suicide?” Logan and I say at the same time, though obviously Bruno can only hear me. “I thought it was an accident?”

He shifts in his seat, looking really uncomfortable.

“That’s the word his family put out. But my uncle works for the Sherriff. The official cause of death on the report is suicide.”

I can feel my face contort in rage. “That’s idiotic. Logan would never do that.”

“Damn right,” Logan adds from the back seat.

“I know. That’s what I told them. But I guess Kaylee had just dumped him, and he took it really hard. Or that’s what she said anyway.”

I can’t stop the words before they fly out of my mouth. “That lying bitch.”

I look over and Bruno is grinning.

“Sorry,” I say quickly.

“Why?”

I purse my lips together. “I’m trying not to be quite so…”

“Dickish?” Logan offers.

“Harsh.” I say instead. “Carlos keeps telling me I’m abrasive.”

“Like steel wool toilet paper,” Logan mutters.

I rub my forehead.

“Well, don’t be sorry.” Bruno offers, nudging me gently. “I like it when you speak your mind. You’re so—“

“Bitchy?”

“Honest. And funny. That’s why I like you. So just, you know, don’t try to change too much. I like you as is. Mouth and all.”

I stare at him, not sure what to say.

Wow. I could literally kiss him right now.

I finally decide to take it as a compliment and mumble a weak, “Thanks.”

He opens his door, looking back at me before closing it. “Besides, you’re right. She is a lying bitch. I mean, Logan wasn’t the type of guy to go all emo over a girl.” He pauses, “Not even Kaylee.”

I glance over at Logan as I get out of the truck. He looks absolutely livid.

“She’s lying,” Logan says through a clenched jaw.

I nod so he knows I believe him and shut the door.

So the million dollar question is, why would she lie about it?

Ten

Walking into school next to Bruno is like an out of body experience. From the second we hit the first step, people are waving and saying hello, not just to Bruno who is literally friends with everyone in the school, but to me as well. I’m getting looks of abject shock mixed with lust from most of the male population, and the girls are either shooting daggers with their eyes or sighing wistfully. I’m not sure which of these things makes me feel more like I’m walking naked into a gauntlet.

My first class of the day is with Coach Mason. He’s wearing his usual white shirt, buttoned almost to his neck with the sleeves rolled up around his elbows, and Dockers. I walk in just a heartbeat before the bell. He’s writing on the chalk board and when he turns and sees me, he’s momentarily confused.

“Hey Mr. Mason.” I say and scope out a seat. The front two rows are completely filled with females, including Kaylee herself. I make my way to a back seat and an empty desk next to Carson who greets me warmly.

As Bruno predicted, there was no announcement about Logan’s death, no plans for a memorial at the school, and no grief counselors. The day went like any other day, except for the part where people were actively talking to me. Okay, mostly guys, but even a few girls strike up convos with me throughout the day. It’s like going from being invisible to being a celebrity. I try to be kind, and mostly to refrain from insulting anyone, even when they say things like irreguardless and speak in annoying text acronyms, and I was like, OMG, NW. IDBY.

However , by the end of third period, I am actually trembling with the need to slap the girl in my journalism class who keeps telling me how super much she wanted to learn journalism so she can get into Fashion Week free and sit up front.

By the time the bell rings and I gather my books, Bruno and his friends Becker and Cassidy are waiting for me outside the classroom door. Becker is tall and spindly, his red hair combed so it falls over his eye. He has his arm around Cassidy, a busty short blonde girl with a smattering of freckles across her nose. The ultimate odd couple.

“Hey,” Bruno says, taking my books.

I let myself grab him with one arm and hug him gently. Logan is standing beside him, and I don’t think I’ve ever been so glad to see anyone in my life. It’s so weird how I’ve gotten so used to having him around in such a short period of time.

“How was class?” Cassidy asks me cheerfully.

“Well, I didn’t strangle anyone, so I count that as a raging success.”

She smiles warmly. “You guys getting ready to start yearbook orders?”

I nod. “Yeah, actually we are opening up for orders next week. Just working on layout so we have an estimate of how much printing is gonna cost.”

“Can’t they just estimate based on the page count from last year?” Becker asks, flicking his head to get the hair out of his eyes.

I pause, “Yeah. We will do that. But they are talking about adding a few pages. I think they want to put together some kind of memorial for Logan.”

It’s only half a lie. The memorial was my idea. It’ll give me an excuse to get pictures and talk to people about him, specifically Kaylee. A stroke of genius, if I do say so myself.

“Clever,” Logan mumbles, looking reluctantly impressed.

“May I walk you to lunch?” Bruno asks, holding out his arm as I weave mine through.

“That’d be wonderful.”

Becker tisks. “Quit being so chivalrous. You’re making the rest of us look bad, dude.”

Bruno beams as we head for the parking lot.

One of the nicest things about being a senior is off campus lunch privileges I decide, as we pile into Becker’s Rubicon. Not that our tiny town has a lot of options, but tradition dictates that at least for the first day, we eat at The Melting Pot. The pizza is to die for and it has all the charm of a 1970’s head shop.

The large round table in the very back is already full of Logan’s friends. Everyone is there. Darla, head cheerleader and the only person on the planet under the age of fifty who actually plays the harp, Katelyn and Abygail Rodgers, aka the twins, Austin Lattimer, whose mother is the town Mayor, and of course, Jesus DePalma, who is built like a NFL linebacker and has a mowhawk, earning him the moniker Mr. T. Even Becca and Madison are there, somehow having detached themselves from Kaylee’s ass for five minutes.

The only person missing is Kaylee.

“Hey guys,” Bruno says, pulling out a chair for me. “You all know Zoe, right?”

They take turns murmuring hello with varying degrees of enthusiasm. Katelyn and Abygail seem genuinely pleased to meet me officially for the first time (though we’ve shared classes for three years) and Austin and Jesus are equally kind and friendly. The lemmings couldn’t care less that I’m there and Darla looks legitimately put out. Then I remember that she and Bruno dated for a few months last year. No wonder she’s giving me scorpion eyes.

The waitress comes over and the guys proceed to order.

“Two large pepperoni with extra cheese and light sauce please,” Jesus says.

“And I need a salad,” Darla chimes in, with a few of the other girls asking for the same.

“And I need a medium deep dish with pepperoni, jalapeño, pineapple, and bacon,” I add.

The twins stare at me in abject horror. I look over at Bruno, sure I’ve committed some cardinal sin, but he’s just grinning. The waitress brings over a massive pitcher of soda and the conversation begins.