Lies I Told(6)

According to the subject files, Rachel and Logan had once had a heated relationship, history that made my job a lot trickier. I had to earn Rachel’s trust to be included in the group’s social scene and then find a way to hit it off with Logan—without bringing out territorial jealousy in Rachel.

Not an easy task, which was why I’d planned to work Rachel first.

Still, I knew a golden opportunity when I saw one, and there was no harm in getting an early start on the Logan angle as long as I was careful.

I took a quick inventory of the situation: Logan, standing near a kid with hair so bleached it was almost white. Next to them was a tall guy with swingy black hair and another one with perfect brown skin that I recognized from the morning BMW hangout.

They got quiet as I passed, but I pretended not to notice as I slipped a hand into my binder, tugging on the class schedule I’d stuffed there. I let it fall to the floor and kept walking.

I was almost to the end of the hall when a voice called out behind me.

“Hey! Wait up!”


I turned around. Logan was jogging toward me with a piece of paper in his hand.

“I think you dropped this, uh . . .” He looked down at the schedule, searching for my name. “Grace.”

“I did?” Looking innocent was second nature.

He nodded. “It’s your schedule. I thought you might need it.”

I took it from him, holding his gaze just a second longer than normal. I’d been wrong about his eyes. To say they were brown didn’t do them justice. They carried traces of mossy green, too, like something you’d find in a tropical pool at the bottom of a hundred-foot waterfall. His dark brown hair fell over his forehead, giving him a boyish quality that was surprisingly sexy against his all-American good looks.

“Thank you.” I held out my hand. “Grace Fontaine, resident new girl.”

He smiled and took my hand. “Logan Fairchild.” His skin was warm and dry. “I saw you this morning, in the parking lot.”

I nodded. “With my brother, Parker.” Best to clear that up right away. “We just moved here from San Francisco.”

The lie was an easy one.

Sympathy moved behind his eyes. “Must be tough now that school’s already started.”

“I’m managing.” I held his gaze until he pulled his eyes away.

He shuffled from foot to foot. “Well, nice meeting you, Grace. Maybe I’ll see you around.”

I smiled. “Maybe.”

I turned and headed for the cafeteria, surprised by the possibility that Logan Fairchild might actually be nice.





Five


I threw together a salad, grabbed a bottle of water, and surveyed the lunchroom.

Parker was by himself, but joining him was out. Teenagers were more likely to approach a new kid sitting alone. It changed the psychology of things if they thought you had someone, which was why we would try separately to get in with Rachel and Logan’s crowd. Whoever got in first would introduce the other one. Until then, we were on our own.

I looked around the cafeteria, scouting for a spot, wondering which of the kids eating lunch, studying, and messing around I’d get to know. Which of them I would miss when we left. We’d pulled five good-size cons in the last four years. I had lied, cheated, and stolen on behalf of the family. But it only got harder to befriend people I would eventually betray.

I forced the thought away. There was no point thinking about the end of a con before we got there. It only increased the odds of getting distracted, making a mistake.

Right now I needed a place to set up shop until I got in with Rachel and her posse, who were eating and talking at a table near the window. I avoided looking their way as I scanned the room, not wanting to seem interested in them.

My gaze landed on a table occupied by three girls. Two blondes were talking while a curly-haired brunette read a book. The blondes were obviously tight, their postures relaxed as they leaned toward each other, deep in conversation. The short-haired blonde said something to the dark-haired girl. She glanced up and smiled before turning back to her book.

Acquaintances, then. Friends, maybe, but not super close.

I studied her from across the cafeteria, trying to gauge the impact my association with her would have on the con. Pretty enough to be under the radar but not so pretty that someone like Rachel would view her as competition, the girl had pale skin, lush black hair, and the kind of demeanor that suggested she spent a lot of time alone reading books. One of many kids who traveled the back roads of high school unnoticed.

In other words, perfect. It was just a bonus that she was reading.

I crossed the cafeteria and stopped in front of the table. “Hey.”

The girl looked up, blinking, a far-off expression in her eyes. I recognized it, understood the shock of realizing the world inside your book wasn’t real. Even worse, you were in another world entirely and no one understood—or even cared—that you preferred the one living on the page.

“Oh . . . hey,” the girl said.

I smiled. “Mind if I sit here?”

She glanced at the blondes, who shrugged almost in unison.

She turned back to me. “Sure.”

I sat across from her. “I’m Grace.”

“Selena Rodriguez,” the girl said, closing her book. “This is Ashley.” She gestured to the short-haired girl before turning to the other one, her waist-length waves too frizzy to be anything but natural. “And that’s Nina.”