What We Saw by Aaron Hartzler Read Free Book Online

them—or anybody who knows them.”
    Rachel pauses. “Um, I’m pretty sure they have other stuff to worry about besides Ben Cody being too smart.”
    â€œWhat are you talking about?”
    â€œOnly the biggest story of today,” she says.
    â€œYou mean the party?”
    â€œI just can’t with you right now,” says Rachel. “You haven’t looked at your phone since you walked over to Ben’s, have you?”
    â€œJust now,” I admit. “You’re my first contact with the media that is social.”
    â€œThis is why I love you, Kate Weston.”
    â€œWhat’s going on?”
    â€œNothing I can’t catch you up on tomorrow,” she says. “Sleep tight.”
    â€œWait—how do you know I’m already in bed?” I ask her.
    â€œ Are you in bed?”
    I fluff my pillow and assume my British accent. “I might be. Or I might be about to sneak out for a clandestine rendezvous with a mysterious stranger.”
    â€œUh-huh,” says Rachel. “And I might be crowned Miss Nebraska next month. See you tomorrow, Katherine the Great.”

eight
    â€œSHE WAS SO wasted.”
    I can hear Christy long before I see her walk around the corner with Lindsey. It’s one of the things that makes her an excellent goalie: Her voice carries clear across the field. Also, she’s built like a tank: solid muscle.
    The four of us got lucky this year; we were assigned spots just across from the senior stairwell where the lockers of the graduating class begin. Dooney and Deacon Mills shuffle down the steps above us. Some people claim the basketball players at our school have an arrogant strut, but Ben says they’re all walking that slowly because they’re in pain. Coach Sanders kills them with squats in the weight room.
    Today, their lope is slowed further because they’ve got their noses about an inch from the screen of Dooney’s phone. I hope they don’t break their necks text-walking on the stairs. We need them both for the state tournament.
    Christy’s laugh thunders over the noise in the hall as she gets closer. “Like, blackout drunk.”
    â€œIs she here today?” Lindsey wants to know.
    I wait behind my locker door, pretending to dig through books. Are they talking about me?
    â€œOf course not,” Christy says. She tucks a corkscrew of her blond bob behind her ear, spins the combo on her locker, and pops it open as Rachel sails around the corner. “Wait, what? Who’s not here today?”
    I grab my geology book and turn around. “I’m here, I’m here. And, yes, I may have been the slightest bit inebriated Saturday night.”
    â€œNot you.” Christy rolls her eyes. “We all knew you’d be here today. You wouldn’t miss school if the building was on fire.”
    â€œSo who were you talking about?” I’m confused. Also, possibly, still a little hungover.
    â€œStacey,” says Rachel. “No way she’s showing up today.”
    â€œMaybe she’s just running late.” Lindsey slips a sparkly barrette into her straight black hair to hold it out of her face, then checks her lip gloss in her locker mirror. She’s the only varsity defender I know who bothers with lip color or hair accessories.
    â€œâ€˜Running late’?” Christy scoffs. “Did you see that picture? I don’t think she was drunk, I think she was dead.”
    At the mention of a picture of Stacey, my eyes go wide. Rachel sees the stricken look on my face and holds up both hands. “I deleted it, I promise. This is a different pic.”
    â€œWait, there are more?” Christy asks. “I need to see them. Now . ”
    â€œUgh. I don’t.” Lindsey sighs and closes her locker.
    Rachel shakes her head. “There was one of Stacey with our precious Kate here. I took it early in the evening. Upstairs. In the kitchen.”
    â€œIt has been