Warning: Mildly violent imagery
The next day hadn't gone as planned. The plan for the "investigation" in Liam's room had been scrapped, and an air of despair had hung above all their heads. The part that had amazed Spencer the most was that no one seemed to pay attention to the similarities between Kathryne's death and the newest football player's. He'd found out the boy's name was Keith Cameron. The whole team mourned, as did the entire school, but no one seemed to make any connection about the similarities between the two deaths. It was like an air of ignorance had wafted through the school.
Spencer hadn't been shocked about the ruling of the death to be natural; but he was shocked at the excuse Erin Strauss had used. She had said he'd had an asthma attack. The worst part was, everyone had bought it. Keith really did have asthma, and Spencer knew himself that lack of oxygen could cause seizures. It was all and all a probable cause of death...that was, if there hadn't been a similar death mere weeks before it. But naturally, no one seemed to put the two together, no one had wanted to, so they had accepted it. They'd even talked about a potential bake sale to raise money for asthma research in honor of it.
The group had barely spoken, which was one of the things that concerned Spencer the most. The time before the group had been scared, but they hadn't ceased communication. But after the latest death, the whole next day seemed just hold a black cloud above all their heads. It was odd. Spencer had expected someone to speak up, to say something. But no one had said a word over breakfast, it had been dead silence. That was, until Keith's girlfriend had burst into tears and ran out of the dining hall with her friends chasing after her, they called her name with urgency, the smacks of feet echoed through the silent dining hall like gun shots had been fired.
That night Spencer had considered going through the woods and finding Derek's fort, but he felt frozen to his own bed as the horrible memory replayed in his mind. He'd barely slept, and his dreams were plagued by nightmares. Bodies that twitched and looked upon him with dead eyes. Kathryne's lips had opened and said his name, a breath of a word through her blue lips in one of them, her dead eyes had looked right into his own; so void of substance, of life, of a soul. For the soul was a truly confusing thing, and just as easily as it was put in a body, did it leave it. They were left no longer people, but shells. Casings. Is that truly what they all were? Their outsides were just shells to whatever it was on the inside. Everyone would gather around to look at their loved ones in a casket; look at the shell that had held the only thing really important, and they would pretend it mattered. But no matter what, no one could breathe the breath of life back into that body.
The shell was all they'd had left, and soon, it would rot away.
But deep down, Spencer hadn't believed all that was true. They said that when a person died, they would live forever through those who loved them. Perhaps it was really once a person passes they live to become a part of you. Your soul opens up, and gratefully accepts all that the other had shown you. Maybe no one truly ever died.
It wasn't a very scientific thought, but it was a nice one.
~.~.~.~.~.
The shrill sound of the alarm had awoken Spencer from his restless sleep. He'd growled low in his throat, he hadn't slept at all, and the insane shriek was bringing on a severe headache. Spencer's vision swirled once he opened his heavy eyelids, and spots overtook it, but he forced them all away, and forcefully tossed his blankets off of him and onto the hardwood floor. The blanket landed haphazardly, and part of it still got stuck on his sock. He had to kick the air a dozen times until it finally came off, and he hopped out of bed. His socked feet still made a loud smack on the ground, the other two roommates looked at him, bleary eyed and concerned.
Spencer ignored the two other boys, and stomped over to his dresser drawers and tugged one of the drawers open. He hadn't a clue why he was so loud and upset. He was tired, scared, and wanted nothing more than to go home. But he knew he couldn't. Anger usually wasn't a coverup for his fears and emotions, but it seemed like a worthy substitute, at least for the moment; in the early morning where he was so tired that all he wanted was a pot of delicious dark fluid to energize his body, and awaken him from his sleepy, slow, hell.
"Kid, don't be so loud," Derek demanded of him. Spencer turned away from his clothes and glared. Derek had sat up in bed, and rubbed the back of his neck where an obvious ache was. He never quite slept normally, and he always had aches. "I barely slept."
"Heh, that's funny," Spencer begun as he pulled out a clean uniform. It was wrinkled, but it always seemed to be. "Because your snoring kept me up most of the night."
Derek raised an eyebrow at him, and looked behind himself to Aaron, who looked equally confused. "I don't snore," Derek argued.
"Yes you do," Aaron disagreed. "But it wasn't any louder than usual."
"Thanks," Derek said sarcastically. He turned his attention back to Spencer, who had rolled his eyes at them, and had gone to storm out of the room to hit the showers. "What crawled up your ass and died?" He asked.
Spencer halted, his angry shield wavered momentarily. He turned to stare at Derek. "What?"
"I asked you what crawled up your ass and died," Derek repeated.
"It's an expression," Aaron explained, obviously he hadn't thought Spencer had gotten what Derek had meant.
"I know what it is, and it's disturbing," Spencer responded in disgust, his nose crinkled up, and his eyes still staring down Derek, who looked completely exasperated.
"Seriously, man," Derek begun and continued to look at Spencer as though he were another being who crashed down to earth. "I don't get you sometimes."
Spencer just shrugged, and marched out of the room. He had a shower to take.
~.~.~.~.~.~.~.
Spencer sighed as he put his uniform on in his shower stall. The smoke fogged around him, and the amount of hot water he'd used left red patches that covered large portions of his skin. He'd needed the heat as a distraction from all the facts, statistics, and probabilities that ran through his head. It was odd, because his facts usually comforted him. Statistics. Statistics had always been a distraction for him. Something he was a master of, something he enjoyed learning about. Everyone was part of a statistic, and no matter what, he could always prove that. Everyone was part of something, and no one was ever alone.
But his statistics had not been able to comfort him at that moment. They just seemed to taunt him, to tumble through his head so fast that he felt the second he opened his mouth they'd just all fall out. None of his peers knew what it was like. To have so much going on in your head that you just couldn't physically hold it all in, and then when you let it all out everyone thinks you're a freak.
He had an eidetic memory. The images he'd seen since he arrived at school would forever haunt his dreams. No matter how hard he could try to escape them, they would forever and always be carried with him.
His Father hadn't even called to check in on him. That was one of the things that had hurt the worst, that Spencer hadn't gotten a single call from home in the four weeks he'd been at school. He was pretty sure his Father hadn't missed him at all. William Reid had probably gone home, and thought this would be the end of his problems. That he'd send Spencer off to college after boarding school, and possibly only have to deal with him on holidays.
That thought alone made Spencer angrily punch the side of the stupid cubed in wall. The smooth surface smacked against the bone of his fist, and he let out a squeak of pain. He really hadn't thought that move through.
"Spencer?!" In the stall next to him, he heard Derek's voice. Spencer shut his eyes and closed his fist as he tried to breathe through the pain. He'd dropped his uniform jacket onto the wet, tiled floor and whimpered at the fact he'd have to either attempt to dry it or grab another. Today wasn't going to be his day. It was odd how pitiful mornings always seemed to shape them.
He bent down to pick up his jacket, and the curtain that covered him was thrown open to reveal a soaking wet Derek Morgan with just a towel around the lower half of his body. Spencer looked at the sculpted body for a half a second of surprise, and then looked away to give the other man his own privacy.
"Kid, what the hell was that?" Derek asked. Spencer insecurely wrapped his arms around his unbuttoned shirt that only concealed his arms. Derek just raised an amused eyebrow as Spencer shied away from him. He loosely tied a knot in his towel, so he wouldn't have to hold it up.
"...I...um...have seemed to accidentally hit my fist against the wall," Spencer explained and gave the stall wall a little tap, as though Derek wouldn't catch on to what he spoke of.
"You...accidentally hit the wall?" Derek inquired, obviously he wasn't buying it.
"Once you get some clothes on I'd...um...love to discuss this further," Spencer squeaked, one hand still covered his chest.
"Seriously, kid." Derek looked at him with concern, and took a step near Spencer, which made the boy take a step back. Derek just rushed even closer to him and took hold over Spencer's wrist, his hand especially red on the knuckles, and when he focused on it, he found that it throbbed. "There a reason you're punching walls?"
"Frustrated," Spencer answered, honest and meek. His former bravado that he'd felt earlier had faded the moment he was trapped in a shower stall with a much bigger man, he just felt tiny and alone. Home-sick and scared.
"We all feel that way, kid," Derek responded with understanding, and offered Spencer a small, comforting smile. He raised his other hand to give him a pat on the shoulder, and released his fist. "Should be fine," he informed him. "If it's still hurting once you're dressed we'll ice it." Spencer nodded his understanding, and Derek took a step back, his feet splashed puddles on the wet tile. "I'm going to get out of here before anyone else walks in and gets the wrong idea," he said with a grin. Spencer couldn't help but smile back as Derek left, shut the curtain, and gave him privacy to finish button his shirt...and to zip up his pants. He hadn't even noticed that they were unzipped and unbuttoned.
Great. Derek had seen his bare chest and his Star Trek boxer shorts.
~.~.~.~.~.~.
Spencer had dreaded breakfast. The one the day before had been dead silence, and he was afraid it would be a repeat of that. He used to enjoy silence, it was one of the reasons he'd lock himself away in his bedroom. Spencer liked some peace and quiet, just himself and his books. But since he'd been away at school he'd grown accustomed to the noise. The thoughtless debates that surrounded him, Derek and Penelope's ridiculous and inappropriate amounts of flirtation, it had filled a void. He'd still like more quiet, more time to himself, but being around people...people that weren't insulting him...it took away his loneliness.
The table's smooth surface was unusually covered in crumbs, as though they hadn't been cleaned up since the night prior. There was even a big hunk of a leftover roll left in the middle of it.
"Well," David begun as they sat down, Spencer apprehensive. "As you can see, we're fighting hard to pass our next health inspection," he finished sarcastically.
Spencer couldn't help the grin that snuck onto his features, as he attempted to not actually touch his hand to the table. After a day of silence, it was nice to hear David's dry humor. The others didn't seem to think as much, as they pretty much seemed indifferent to the statement.
"At least Spencer appreciates the lovely entertainment I bring with me," David continued on, and nodded towards Spencer with appreciation.
Spencer grinned back at him, and then turned his attention back to the food that coated their table. His hands twitched as the desperate need to clean it all up and make it go away took over him. It was disgusting. The amount of germs that had settled on the food as it sat there overnight...how it all just gathered there, and festered. There was a hunk of beef right next to his tray, and he felt his right eye twitch.
"Somebody get Spencer a wet-nap and some hand sanitizer before he suffers a breakdown," David, once again, seemed to have been the only one capable of speaking.
"Josie quit," Aaron finally spoke. Spencer honestly would have looked at him, given him his attention, but he felt as though he and the piece of beef were having a staring competition...he also felt as though he were losing. It was like the thing had grown an eye. "She would have been the one to clean this up."
"So, what?" Emily asked, she swiped at her spot with a napkin. "They couldn't get someone else to do it?"
"Hey, David." Derek was grinning like a fool, which was rarely a good sign. "Ten bucks if you eat the meat."
"Don't!" Penelope cried out in disgust.
"Make it fifty."
"You're dreaming!"
"Both of you stop," Aaron ordered them both, though half hearted. He looked as though he wanted to see if David would do it as much as the rest of them. But his forced maturity shoved his desire down.
"Would you rather sit here and have an amazing, and intriguing, discussion on the wonders of mathematics?" David inquired dryly, and then looked at Spencer. "Spencer here could head it."
Spencer narrowed his eyes at im in consideration. "That's both a compliment and an insult."
David grinned. "Is that so?"
"You're saying I'm intelligent enough to lead a discussion on mathematics, but boring enough to actually lead said discussion," Spencer stated proudly, as though he had done something quite impressive. David just continued to grin at him, while the rest of the table shook their heads.
"So, are we just going to keep ignoring the elephant in the room?" Emily blurted out. The whole mood at the table shifted, much to Spencer's despair. Any sign of lighthearted humor vanished, and left the dull sense of woe that they had all felt the day prior.
"Keith's asthma had never been an issue," Derek informed them all, his voice stiff and serious. His face was blank, except an unidentifiable emotion in his eyes. It was odd with Derek, he could shield you from his emotions at a drop of a hat. It was as though he'd been trained to do so. "He barely ever even had to use his inhaler."
"We all know the asthma excuse is bullshit," Emily added in. "He died the same exact way that Kathryne died, it was damn near identical."
"Not a bad excuse, though," Spencer said. They all looked at him as though he must be joking, so Spencer decided to clarify what he'd meant, "While asthma is not directly linked to seizures, asphyxiation from an asthmatic attack could lead to one. Deprivation of oxygen in general could."
"Do you have any idea what he was given?" Aaron inquired.
"My best guess? Cyanide poisoning. Possibly, anyway. It causes convulsions, and death by asphyxiation," Spencer explained. Once he saw that everyone still looked quite interested, he continued on. "Cyanide can become apparent with testing, and it should be something that toxicology picks up on; but given the situation we're in, it's safe to say it won't. It comes in different forms, but my best guess was that Keith ingested it. Reaction time is as little as one to fifteen minutes. In a gaseous form, death can be almost instantaneous."
"You told us a little bit about this awhile ago," Derek recalled. "Anything else we should know about it?"
"Uhh...if a victim is to be saved, treatment must take place in the first thirty minutes after the poison is given," Spencer recalled, as he tried to bring back his knowledge on the topic, everything he had ever read on it. "Many patients need aggressive supportive care. Testing can be done to confirm that it's a cyanide poisoning, but usually not in time to do any good," he continued gravely. "The antidotes are often dangerous, and need to be used with extreme caution. It also sometimes has a bitter almond smell to it, but not everyone can detect it."
"Do you think it's his or her drug of choice?" Emily inquired. Spencer had to appreciate how passionate she seemed about whatever was happening. He'd learned that once Emily had a mission, she took it very seriously.
Spencer shrugged. "We can assume it," he replied, unsure of himself. "I feel as though it has been used in all three deaths."
"What is this? An Agatha Christie book?" David quipped with an eye roll. Derek eyed him suspiciously.
"Dude, do you have a fetish for the mystery genre?" Derek asked him. David looked at him in confusion. "You've literally been referencing different parts of it this entire time."
"Please, let's just stop there," Emily halted them, her hand held in the air before David could even speak. "I don't want to know anything about David Rossi's fetishes."
"You wish you knew more about my fetishes," David fired back at her. Emily gave him a look that was caught between offense and disbelief.
"I don't want to know about anyone's fetishes," Aaron blurted out, and looked at them all sternly. No one seemed to take him seriously.
"I bet you've got some freaky ones," David drawled out at him, Penelope giggled and Emily just rolled her eyes. "It's always the reserved ones."
"Man, if you could have only heard the dream he had a bit ago," Derek begun and chuckled, especially at the scandalized look that took over Aaron's usually blank features.
Spencer frowned in confusion. "You mean his nightmare?" He asked, he recalled that Aaron had been making noises in his sleep. He'd wondered why, since he could see Derek up, that the boy had made no move to wake him, and had shaken his head when Spencer had gone to.
"Kid." Derek tried, and failed, to conceal his chuckles. "That wasn't a nightmare."
"That's enough," Aaron stopped him, his face had turned slightly red. The table had seemed to take great joy in his misfortune, except Spencer, Spencer still hadn't a clue what Derek meant. "We're discussing more important things," he reminded them, hoping to sober the table up. It was incredible the lack of attention span they all seemed to possess.
Spencer just continued to stare between Derek and Aaron in confusion, and Derek looked at him and just smirked smugly. He raised his hand, and Spencer could only manage a squeak of horror before it came down to ruffle his hair.
"Spencer," Aaron continued on, as though Derek hadn't just assaulted Spencer's poor hair, that now stuck out in all types of odd directions. "How much do you know about poisons?"
Spencer bit his lip and went through his knowledge on the subject. "A reasonable amount, I suppose," he replied. "It intrigued me to some degree, as most things do. But there are probably those out there who know more."
"Well, whatever this guy is doing," Emily's voice was wrought with despair, any form of good humor gone, as though it had never even existed in her form. Her hands were folded on the table, knuckles white from how hard she pressed them together. She must have had a thing for handwashing, or the cold air got to her badly, because they were cracked. It was also obvious she picked at her nails, something Spencer had learned to be her nervous habit. "He's getting worse. This made no sense this time. He stuck to a schedule the first two times...now..." She trailed off, let her words hang in the air, as though they were forming a dark cloud above all their heads.
"What does this mean?" Penelope asked, voice small and frightened. "Does this mean it'll get worse?"
"Well, I'll say one thing, this guy isn't afraid to put on a show for the public," David stated. "Not just a show, but a second screening of it."
"Do we still think it's Liam?" Emily asked. Spencer felt his whole body stiffen. "Did anyone keep an eye on him at the game?"
"I-I didn't see him," Penelope stuttered out.
"I'm such an idiot," Spencer said with self-deprecation. The whole table looked at him in confusion, it was such an odd statement for such a smart boy to make. "Why didn't I go with him? What was I thinking? I didn't even look for him in the crowd!" He felt his breathing start to quicken as his body panicked. It had been his fault.
"Woah!" Derek reached out and put a hand on his back, and another on his arm. "Calm down, Spencer. Breathe, you're going to draw attention to yourself," he warned.
"Spencer," Aaron's stern voice cut through Spencer. "It wasn't your fault."
Spencer looked at him, eyes a mess of emotion. "I can't forget," he told them brokenly, Aaron's face softened. "I-I keep trying to. But I-." His voice was cut off, as a humiliating sob bubbled up his throat that he attempted to swallow down.
"None of us can, kid," Derek told him, hand still on his back, it rubbed soothing circles. "Eidetic memory or not, when it comes to those things, we all have an elephant's memory."
"How have no kids gotten taken home yet?" Emily asked with disgust. "We've witnessed two deaths in four weeks. You'd think some parents would be a tad bit perturbed."
"Maybe they don't know," Penelope suggested. "I mean, mine haven't even called about it."
"It's probably being kept under wraps," Aaron reasoned. He shoveled his eggs around on his plate, he obviously possessed as little appetite as Spencer.
Spencer hadn't been able to eat practically the whole day prior. He'd been getting thinner since he'd arrived at boarding school, since Kathryne. It seemed like after an event like that, your stomach just could never seem to settle. He'd always been skinny, but his skin had begun to look as though it stretched thin above the sharp points of his bones, as though they were fit to burst through at any moment. Like a thin sheet, put too much pressure on it and you'll just tear right through.
He knew he must have been a sight. The dark circles under his eyes contrasted with the sickly pale tone of the rest of his face, no red blotches of life on his cheeks, his lips milky white, his hair frizzed, fingernails overgrown, and has hands always seemed to tremble terribly. When he reached for his orange juice, they shook so badly that the orange drink splattered onto the table, it begun to dribble off, and took some of the leftover bread crumbs with it.
"I still say we should be doing something about Lockwood," Derek suggested, his eyes directed towards Liam's table with enough intensity to scare away the average man. Liam didn't even seem to notice the eyes on him, he was carefully cutting into his poached eggs.
"We have no proof Liam did this," Aaron reminded him. Derek turned his head to give the boy a sharp look, it was obvious where he stood on the matter. Spencer couldn't really blame him, he'd lost two friends.
"So what?" Emily inquired. "We go digging for other suspects?"
"I think it's naive to limit it to just one," Aaron said simply, he expertly ignored the daggers Derek shot at him. "We could miss the true perpetrator."
"Or we'd be so focused trying to find other people that match, that we'd let this one slide," Derek countered. "Spencer thinks it's Liam, right?" He turned to look at the boy, who looked like a deer caught in the headlights.
"Um...I...I...he's shown revealing reactions...but I don't possess proof of anything," Spencer stuttered out. Sometimes, with Derek's smiles and joking personality, it was hard to forget how intimidating the boy was.
"That's why we were going to break into his room," Emily reminded them, she drummed her fingers impatiently on the table. "Kind of seems like a stupid idea in the light of day."
"Well, to be fair, we're seventeen and fifteen years olds trying to solve a murder case," David responded dryly. "Of course we're going to be stupid."
"Hey, I'm eighteen next sunday," Emily reminded him. "I'll be the adult here," she said proudly.
"Yeah, then you can actually legally purchase your cigarettes," David said dryly. Emily gave him a thumbs up, and he chuckled.
"Your birthday is October 12th?" Emily nodded to answer Spencer's inquiry. "Mine's the 9th! We're close together!" He informed them all, rather cheerfully. Though, he couldn't put much effort into it. Spencer's birthday had never been exactly a happy occurrence.
"Your birthday is the 9th?" Penelope asked, she sounded less than thrilled, and her voice shook. Spencer looked at her in confusion, and slowly nodded his head. Penelope's eyes were welled up with tears, and her breath was labored. Spencer instantly regretted his origin of birth if it caused her such distress. "Everything is wrong!" She announced. The whole table looked at her in concern, Derek straightened his back up to a perfect line, and he raised his hand to the table, as though he were ready to shoot up at any moment.
"What's wrong?" David asked her in concern. He looked around the room, no one had noticed the scene that had started to occur.
"Everything's wrong!" Penelope tearfully declared, her shaky hands reached into her jacket pocket to pull out a clump of tissues, which she patted underneath her eyes with as tears started to rain down her face, little black flakes of mascara were taken down with them. "People are dying, my friends are in danger, AND I DON'T EVEN HAVE A GIFT FOR MY FRIEND'S BIRTHDAY!" She sobbed.
"I-I don't need a gift!" Spencer rushed to assure her, unable to fathom why that would ever upset her.
"Babygirl," Derek's voice was soft and soothing. He reached his hand across the table, reached for one of her hands and peeled it from the tissue. "It's not for awhile, hm? We can get pretty boy something real nice before then," he assured her.
"I can't do this," she whimpered. She continued to dab underneath her eyes, her clumps of mascara tainted the bright white soft sheet. "I can't be my sparkly self when all this is happening."
"Babygirl," Derek's voice was still soft, kind. It amazed Spencer how physically intimidating he was, but under all that was...this. "It's all going to be okay, I promise."
Penelope sniffled, but a tiny smile tugged at her lips. It was then Spencer really took in how much the happenings must have drained her, the bubbly blonde wasn't even wearing her brightly colored lipstick. "You can't promise that."
"I can, and I will. Mama knows I never break a promise." Derek looked at her with endearment, and rose a hand to reach across the table to run a hand through a stray strand of blonde hair, he tucked it behind her ear. She smiled at him, watery, eyelashes splashed tears onto the lens of her glasses.
"Mama knows," she confirmed. The smile they shared was soft, and warm. Spencer couldn't help but think it was lucky they'd both met one another. They brought out the best in each other. Penelope brought out Derek's soft, kindness, and Derek without fail always managed to calm Penelope, and make her feel like the most beautiful woman in the room.
"We can do this," Emily said firmly. "Like we've already discussed, we all have different skills. Maybe we're just not using them correctly."
"Penelope," Aaron addressed the blonde, who shifted her vision away from Derek to show he had her attention. "I think we've already confirmed the fact that you can hack into anything, correct?"
"Give me Satan's IP, and I'll hack into Hell," she quipped. The rest of the table chuckled in delight.
Aaron smiled, Spencer had noticed he could be quite tender with Penelope. "Not necessary, but appreciated." His face grew more somber. "I need you to dig up everything humanly possible on Liam Lockwood." Penelope opened her mouth to reply, but Aaron cut her off quickly, "I know you've dug up a lot, but I want you to get everything humanly possible on him. No stone left unturned."
Penelope's whole face brightened, and her smile was one of incredulity and joy. "You want me to hack into the land that should be left unhacked?!"
Aaron reluctantly nodded, but quickly clarified, "But I don't want you to get caught. So only hack where you know you won't."
She looked mildly put out. "My dear, sweet, Aaron," she released his name with a gust of air. "Have you not known me for many years, my sweet? Not even the FBI could catch me."
"Yeahhh," David stretched out the word. "I wouldn't test that theory if I were you."
"Dollface, with all I've hacked into, the FBI is probably beside themselves," she informed them confidently. The signs of her former panic still evident, but her carefree persona seemed to take over as she was placed in her element.
"Well, in that case, some extra home-work would be looking into other potential suspects," Aaron advised.
"I'd do a background check on all his friends," Emily suggested, she then directed her attention to Spencer. "You said they all have grudges against the sports teams, right?"
"Amelia and Scarlett, mostly," Spencer answered. "Sawyer seems to have the least of a grudge, and Owen is pretty mild. Ella kind of seems indifferent."
"I don't know much about Ella," Penelope mused. "She keeps to herself."
"Well, just to be safe, dig into this," Aaron told her. He pondered for a moment. "Hey, Derek?" The other boy looked at him in inquiry. "Was there anyone rejected from the football team last year? Or early this year?"
"Tryouts start before school," Derek answered, mildly confused. "The team was already put together by the time school started, so I'd assume someone was turned down. Why?"
"Because maybe that's why he has such a grudge," Emily spoke up before Aaron could, as she was able to follow his lead. "He could have been rejected by the team."
"Then why kill Kathryne?" David inquired.
"She could have been a trial run," Spencer contemplated. "To master his craft."
"So practice the poison on Kathryne, see it work, and then go after his true target," David said. "Sounds about right."
"I'll get you the names," Derek begrudgingly agreed, his eyes cast another glance to Liam's table. "But I feel like we're wasting time."
"We're covering all our bases," Aaron corrected.
Derek opened his mouth to talk, but he was cut off by Cruz demanding quiet in the dining hall. "After breakfast everyone will meet together for an assembly! We have an announcement!"
"Oh no," David groaned. "This can't be good."
~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.
He was right, it wasn't.
Erin Strauss had marched in, and had given the announcement that, while homecoming still was happening, that the homecoming football game was cancelled.
Spencer had instantly moved away from Derek, who looked angered by the entire announcement. The school's reasoning was the recent event that had happened at the game, and the fact the team was down a player. The homecoming dance was that weekend, and it would commence, but without the game the night prior. Derek was fuming.
Spencer decided it was best to keep his distance from the other boy that day.
~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.
Spencer sat in his AP English class, bored out of his mind. Classes used to be something he enjoyed at school, a time where he'd get to sit and learn. But after years of staying back in classes, the material being some that he'd learned years prior, it had started to pick away at his spirit. He learned nothing, thus it just seemed to be a grand waste of his time.
That was why he felt both grateful, nervous, and suspicious when his English teacher, Ms. Sanders, announced that his presence had been requested outside of class, and that he'd been excused.
Spencer had warily stood from his seat, gathered his textbook, and quietly left class. Emily had been in AP English, as well, and watched him go with concern. He gave her a tiny little shrug as he went to exit the class, and she simply just stared as he left.
Spencer opened the thick door, and meekly poked his head out of it before the rest of his body had followed. He couldn't hold back his surprise at who stood before him, for it was Mason. His old, worn, faded jeans had dirt on the knees, his thick brown sneakers had started to fall apart, and his cotton shirt had holes all in it. He wore a thin jacket, and smiled at Spencer kindly.
"I do recall making a promise to a young man about teaching him to carve a pumpkin," he said warmly.
Spencer's surprise faded, and a smile split across his face. He felt guilt well in his heart, he hadn't helped Mason in a while, yet the older man still bailed him out of class so he could keep his promise to him. Despite the fact that Spencer had a good reason for his abandonment, he couldn't help but feel like a truly rotten person for what he'd done. Mason seemed to enjoy his help, and carried enough of a fondness for the young boy to keep a promise to him.
"You got me out of class to teach me to carve a pumpkin?" Spencer inquired, amused and appreciative.
"Well, I doubted old Ms. Sanders would appreciate me carrying a pumpkin into her class, she's a bit stiff that way," Mason joked, and winked at the boy. Spencer's smile grew, and Mason continued on, "I was going to wait until your free-time, but I assumed your schedule must have been filled recently."
Spencer flinched, Mason's tone wasn't accusatory, yet it still hurt something inside Spencer. He hung his head in shame. "I'm sorry," he repented quietly. "I just...I haven't been able to-."
"No apologies needed," Mason told him, and gripped his shoulder tightly so Spencer would meet his eye. "We'll discuss further once I get you practicing with the pumpkins."
Spencer grinned, and nodded. He followed Mason down the hall, and out of the school to the grounds. The day was nice, especially for fall. The trees already had many of their leaves abandoning them, and what was left was an array of beautiful colors. Spencer recalled that his Mother had always been quite morbid about fall, she always said it was the season of death. How everyone just saw the beauty, when really everything was just dying away, something so horrible disguised as something so beautiful. Spencer tended to always ignore that opinion of his Mother's, it did nothing but depress him, and he wouldn't allow himself to grow depressed for his favorite season of the year.
The wind blew a chill through his jacket and straight to the skin. He shivered, and wrapped his arms around himself. The dress jacket wasn't meant to handle such chilly conditions, it was mainly for show. Mason seemed to notice that, and threw his head back in laughter. He then begun to take off his own jean jacket, and handed the thin piece of to Spencer.
"You're from lands of sunshine, aren't you?" He asked in amusement. Spencer flushed, and nodded. He put on Mason's jacket over his own, it was much bigger than he was. Mason's shoulders were broader, his muscles larger, and his overall stature was one much larger than Spencer's own. He looked like a little kid who got into his Father's clothing.
"Vegas usually doesn't grow as cold," Spencer agreed, he held the jacket tightly around himself and followed Mason as he continued to walk through the grounds. The wind bothered him considerably less with both jackets wrapped comfortably around his thin form. The wind blew so hard, it looked like it could take the small young man with it, blow him away with the leaves.
Spencer followed Mason all the way to a shed behind the school, Mason walked right up to it and opened it up, gestured for Spencer to follow him inside. Spencer walked inside, and saw it consisted of all of Mason's gardening tools, and all of the things he needed to maintain the grounds. It was a rather spacious shed, and had room for a table that rest in the middle of it, right in the middle rest a big, orange pumpkin, fresh, along with a multitude of tools that surrounded it.
Spencer stared at it, and then back at Mason, apprehensive, but ultimately excited. "I really have never done this," he confessed, he approached the pumpkin slowly, as if it were a skittish animal. "Is it hard?"
"We'll start you off simple," Mason said. "We'll start with the normal face with big scary teeth that all the little kids seem to favor."
Spencer smiled. "Jack-o'-lantern! I did always like those."
"Well." Mason returned the smile. "You do seem to be one for classics."
"The jack-o'-lantern can be either a carved pumpkin, or a turnip, it was named after the phenomenon of strange light flickering over peat bogs, called will-o'-the-wisp or jack-o'-lantern," Spencer explained, he'd approached the table so he stood directly in front of the plump, orange fruit. He hesitantly brought a hand to the surface of it, the smooth feel of one area, and then dragged it along over the ridges, it was cool under his fingertips. "Its origins are uncertain. Gourds were used to carve lanterns by the Maori over 700 years ago. There is a belief that the custom of carving jack-o'-lanterns at Halloween originated in Ireland, where turnips, mangelwurzel or beets were supposedly used-." He'd cut himself off when he noticed that Mason had begun laughing. He frowned in confusion.
"My, you really can go on, can't you?" Mason inquired with amusement.
Spencer flushed scarlet and rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "So I've been told," he admitted in embarrassment. "I need to work on it."
"Don't," Mason advised. "It's charming."
Spencer looked at him in bewilderment. "What?!" He asked in surprise. "It is?!"
"Those who care for you will find it endearing, and it will continue to annoy those who don't," Mason answered in good humor. "It's a win-win situation."
Spencer let out a tiny laugh, and then observed the tools on the table. "We should get going, class will be over soon."
"You're out of your next few classes," Mason replied plainly, as though he hadn't just said something jarring.
Spencer looked at him in confusion. "Huh?" Was all he managed to get out.
"I spoke to your teachers, you're out through lunch. You can go back in to grab lunch if you'd prefer, but I'd be happy to take you out for a bite myself," Mason explained pleasantly. "I could probably get you out of some after lunch, as well. But I doubt you'd like to spend that long away from class."
"I'm sorry I haven't been much help in the gardens," Spencer blurted out, he hadn't intended to.
"As I said, there is no need for apologies," Mason reminded him, but he then looked at Spencer with consideration. "But may I ask why you've been spending time with Liam Lockwood?" Spencer stiffened. "He seems much different from your normal group of friends."
"Maybe that's what I like about him," Spencer countered, overly defensive about the innocent question. He wasn't used to things like this, and he felt cornered as he stood in the shed.
Mason actually, much to Spencer's surprise, laughed. "You don't like him at all, do you?" He inquired. Spencer froze, unable to do anything, argue or confirm. "Well, wouldn't be the strangest thing to happen," Mason mused. Spencer immediately caught on to what he meant, and looked at him anxiously.
"Were you there?" He inquired, they both knew exactly what it was that he spoke of.
Mason shook his head in the negative. "No, I wasn't," he said. "Not too sad about that fact. Terrible thing to happen, much too close to the other terrible thing." He gave Spencer a meaningful look. "Rather similar the two, weren't they?"
Spencer felt a lump in his throat, he wondered if he were mistaking the knowledge in Mason's voice. Perhaps he suspected what Spencer and his friends had? "Yes," Spencer confirmed. "Identical."
"Some might assume this to be a dangerous time," Mason mused, his voice still filled with meaning, Spencer picked up on it instantly.
"Some might," he once again agreed.
"Some might also advise a young man and his friend to try to stay out of the woods at such a dangerous time," Mason continued, and give Spencer a stern look. Spencer's eyes widened, mouth agape. "It's quite dangerous thing to do, no matter the situation. Your friend isn't as stealthy as he thinks he is."
Spencer flushed. "You try telling him that," he joked mildly. He started to shake, he'd had no clue anyone had seen him that night. "What were you doing up?"
"Classic case of insomnia," Mason replied. "I live here, and I go for walks when I can't sleep." He gave Spencer a meaningful look. "Also, tell your friend he really shouldn't be getting drunk on school nights."
Spencer's eyes popped open even further. "Um...I'm...I'll be sure to-...are you going to tell anyone?" He asked meekly.
Mason let out a string of chuckles, and Spencer flinched in surprise of it. "Please. Even if I told them, they wouldn't care, and with all the things I've seen students do, your friend is a saint."
"Not exactly my first choice of word for him," Spencer joked in good nature, he knew that if Derek had been there, he would have found the response amusing. "But he is a good guy."
"Ah, so he is," Mason agreed. "I've worked these grounds for awhile now, Spencer. I've seen quite a bit of the kids around here. Funny how parents seem to send the kids here for a tame environment...I'm afraid they're not getting their money's worth."
"Have you ever seen anything like...this?" Spencer inquired, unable to still his curiosity.
"I've seen some bad things," Mason informed him. "But this? Two kids dying violently in front of the entire student body? This is new to me. "
"...Does it frighten you?" Spencer asked.
"I'm afraid I'm too wise for it not to," Mason answered earnestly. "I'm sure you are, too."
"If you're scared, why not leave?" Spencer asked, unable to stop his stream of questions. If Mason was scared of what was happening, and seemed to see it for what it was, then why did he stay?
"Because if the students can't leave, then neither will I," Mason replied. "I see a lot, Spencer. I'm just hoping that I'll see something that can help."
"Do you think it will matter if you do?" Spencer asked, slightly sullen. "The school seems to overlook a lot."
"The school is famous for oversights," Mason said. "They don't know something when it's plainly in front of their face. They just make bad choices all around, and it's always the kids that suffer."
"You said you see a lot...have you seen anything at all?" Spencer inquired, still not sure if he should directly state his inquiry, or if they were to dance around the topic, both aware, yet neither saying.
"Nothing that is of use, I'm quite afraid," Mason said. "But I may soon. People like us, Spencer, we don't run into the flock, we observe it."
"I guess we do," Spencer agreed. "Now, please allow me to observe as you teach me to carve a pumpkin."
~.~.~.~.~.~.
Spencer had ended up going out to lunch with Mason. Part of him felt as though he was making a huge mistake, and that he should have returned to sit at Liam's table. But the day prior had proved none of the group seemed to have anything of use to say, and to be fair, he felt as though he could have learned more about the school by going to lunch with Mason. He remembered what Aaron had said at breakfast about branching out for other leads besides Liam, and Spencer made sure he did just that. He asked Mason every question on the school he could think of, and the man happily answered all of them.
Sadly, none of the answers enlightened Spencer on too much. The man had said certain things that had piqued his interest. Such as the fact that Mason really did seem to see everything. He told Spencer of the fact that Liam and David had almost come to blows freshman year. The fact had only slightly surprised Spencer, mainly for the reason that he felt as though Liam would have had to have been an idiot to instigate things with David to that point. Liam was well built, but David could have run him over. Not to mention the fact that he and Derek had apparently already become friends, which was a plus.
Mason informed him that Liam's family was very well respected, and admired. As was Scarlett's family, which was probably why they had started dating. Their families were the best of friends, and so their children had to be, as well. They grew up together, apparently.
Mason also told him that the school had been falling apart from the inside for a long time. He said it seemed as though every day there were more secrets to be covered up, and that a lot of work had to go into the school to keep it still looking so perfect to everyone on the outside. He said a person could do just about anything and get away with it.
Spencer thought about that a lot through his classes, it helped them feel less boring. He'd also thought about his jack-'o-lantern, and felt his face heat up in the middle of his class. He had not found his hidden talent, at all. It had looked worse than the five year old who'd lived across the street from him. Mason had tried to hold back his laughter, clapped Spencer on the back, and kindly told him they'd work on it together. Spencer didn't see himself improving much before it was their pumpkin carving event.
~.~.~.~.~.~
Something else Spencer had noticed after he'd returned to class, was that his group of friends looked less than pleased when they saw him. Well, that wasn't true. They had initially looked relieved when he'd passed them in the halls to get to class, but then every time after that they'd seemed annoyed. He'd had a feeling of dread build in inside of him, a weight that pushed down on him so heavy that he slouched as he walked, his feet clacked to the ground noisily.
After AP Chemistry, Spencer had spotted Emily approaching him. She walked down the hall quickly, purpose in each step. He wondered if maybe he'd made a mistake by going out with Mason for lunch, despite the fact that he was doing what he thought they would want him to do. Thanks to his memory he was able to retain the conversation they had, and felt as though he could relay it to them later.
Before Emily had gotten to him, Liam approached first. "Come on," he encouraged, head gestured to one side. "We're going to study."
Spencer cast a fleeting look towards Emily, who had frozen at her spot. Left leg still forward, right one still back, she'd frozen mid-strut. Her eyes looked between the two of them, before she turned on her heels and walked away. Spencer took that as the approval he needed, although he always did dread spending time with Liam.
"Alright," he agreed, forced smile plastered on his face. "Guess I can help Ella with her biology notes."
Liam rolled his eyes. "I swear, that girl has the same amount of intellect as the molded old stump at the back of the school."
"She's not that bad," Spencer defended, he and Liam walked step in step. "She just doesn't focus and gets her notes mixed."
"I believe you've already been able to tell that neither of the girls favor her very much," Liam said with a grin. "They don't conceal it very well."
"They really don't," Spencer agreed. "Do you...kind of feel bad for her?"
Liam snorted, and looked at Spencer as though he had asked the most ridiculous question. "Why would I?" He inquired. "She brings it on herself." At Spencer's slightly scandalized look, Liam rolled his eyes and explained, "She's not one of us, Spencer. I haven't a clue what Owen sees in her, but she shouldn't just get a free pass into our group."
"They seem to really like each other," Spencer pointed out. It was true, they publicly would cuddle up together, and would laugh at each other's jokes often. "So he must see something in her."
"Well, whatever it is, it isn't apparent to the naked eye," Liam dismissed. "But you're right, he is quite fond of her. He talks about her all the time." Liam then rolled his eyes. "Though, he'll talk about anything."
Spencer laughed, he had to agree. "I'm still confused by the lack of oxygen he intakes," Spencer admitted jokingly. Liam chuckled at his attempt.
"I want to put him on one of those monitors, see how low his oxygen levels go when he talks. I'll bet you it would set off an alarm."
~.~.~.~.~.~.
Without fail, Ella had more notes she wanted Spencer to look through. She thanked him multiple times as he went over all of them with a pencil, to add or correct each different one.
"I'm doing much better in class," she explained to him. "Because of you helping with my notes."
"Well it didn't take much," Amelia cut in from across the room. Her legs were crossed, left over right, her silky smooth skin on full display. She hadn't even looked up from her textbook. "You only needed a genius."
Scarlett giggled, Liam had apparently allowed her to sit next to him on his bed. They were cuddled up, books in front of each of them, his arm tossed around her, and her head rest on the nape of his neck, her eyes scanned the pages, and her hand tapped her pen.
"Oh come on, Amelia," Liam said absent-mindedly. "We all have subjects we're bad at. Ella just happens to have many."
Ella's face heated up, and Spencer noticed that Owen finally seemed aware of the fact that his girlfriend had been insulted. For someone who supposedly was quite smart, Spencer couldn't help but find the boy a bit thick.
"Hey," Owen tossed an arm around Ella's shoulder, and pulled her tightly to him. "She does great in her subjects."
"Does she now?" Liam asked dryly. "My mistake."
Owen's face grew red with anger, and his arm around Ella tightened. Ella looked at Owen, she almost seemed pleased, as though his reaction was a long time in the making. "If you're going to be jerks, we can leave."
"You won't," Sawyer cut in, he wasn't even studying, he was just eating Cheetos. "Who else would fix Ella's notes?"
"Don't go," Amelia blurted out. The whole room turned their attention to her, she had a slightly panicked expression on her face, but she quickly schooled it. "Everyone is just messing with her, as friends do," she assured Owen, her lips were forcibly lifted in some semblance of a friendly smile. "No one here means any real harm."
"Of course we don't," Scarlett agreed, her expression just as fake as Amelia's own. It was obvious she was trying to back up her best friend's wishes. "We were impolite. It has just been a...rough few days."
Spencer felt anger build up inside of him at the fact that they tried to pass off their tendency for cruelty on the fact that a fellow student had just died. To him, that crossed a whole new line.
Spencer had almost been wrapped up in his own anger, that he nearly missed the way Liam's arm tensed, his expression darkened, and his eyes tore away from his textbook to glance around the room, but when they met Spencer's, he quickly averted them. Spencer couldn't help but slightly side with Derek, part of him felt as though Liam were truly the culprit. All the lorgical signs pointed to him. But he needed facts...he could work with no less.
"Did any of you know him?" He asked the question similar to the one he'd asked about Kathryne. Liam stiffened even more so, and set his jaw, his eyes cast to the side as though he were thinking.
"No," Amelia answered, she was back to looking at her textbook. "I don't get why he wouldn't bring his inhaler to a football game if he has asthma," her voice leaked...something in it. Spencer couldn't quite identify the emotion, but his best guess was that she wasn't as blasé about it as she tried to come across.
"His asthma wasn't bad," Ella informed them, she looked next to her at the notes Spencer had corrected, her eyebrows knit together and her face thoughtful.
"How do you know that?" Liam asked, his voice tight. "If he died from it I'd say it was pretty bad."
Ella shrugged. "It was convenient," she said cryptically. It caught Spencer's attention, and he looked at her with confusion. Maybe she suspected something, as well?
"I don't get why he went for Derek Morgan," Amelia scoffed. "Like he'd help anyone except himself."
Spencer felt his hand tighten around the pencil, the grip so tight it surprised him the pencil didn't snap in two.
"Everyone was so useless," Scarlett agreed, she spun her pen around in her hand, and shook her head. She almost seemed not to notice that Liam was as stiff as a board next to her. "I swear, the entire team is incompetent."
"You shouldn't move someone if they're having a seizure," Ella reminded her, Scarlett looked at her in surprise. "Everyone knows that."
Scarlett's eyes narrowed, Amelia looked up from her textbook, and Sawyer looked incredibly amused. It was sad to Spencer how Ella correcting Scarlett won her more of a reaction than the mention of a boy's death. It also surprised Spencer how they seemed to have much less of a reaction to this death than the death of Kathryne, perhaps they'd just learned to compartmentalize.
"Well I'm afraid I don't do a lot of research on seizures," Scarlett replied tersely.
"You should," Ella told her. "It's important for first aid. Especially since we've had two happen this year."
"Like you'd be good at first aid?" Amelia scoffed at her, and laughed mockingly. "You can't even pass basic science courses."
Ella smiled fakely. "Passing classes doesn't do you much good if you can't put it to work," Ella told her, and then her eyes got a glint in them, and she cuddled close to Owen. "But you're not very good at assessing the situation in front of you."
"You know," Amelia started her reply, her eyes cool, if looks could kill than Ella would have been struck dead the moment after she'd made her remark. "Those notes won't do you much good if you can't retain any of it. Retaining what you have is the most important part," she told her. "Take your mind off of it for one second." She snapped her fingers. "Just like that, it's gone."
Spencer rolled his eyes and focused his attention back on his notes. It was all so petty to him. People were being murdered, and the two girls were fighting over a guy who was obviously only interested in one of them.
"That's true," Liam's voice did surprise him, though. "You take your eye off something for one second, and you lose."
~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.
Spencer had eaten dinner with Liam and his friends, he'd noticed his own group staring at him the entire time. It was awkward, and made him squirm in his seat so much that Owen had, quite loudly, called him out on it.
His mind replayed Liam's words over and over again. He'd kept his eye on the boy all through dinner, but he made no other odd statements, or odd movements. Liam just simply sat, ate, and replied to bits of the conversation. Ella and Amelia kept glaring at each other, and Scarlett kept backing up Amelia, Sawyer ate, and Owen talked. It was pretty much the group's usual interaction, but something felt different that day. Perhaps it was Spencer's own suspicions, or perhaps it was something else entirely. But he'd felt much more alert, and suddenly wished he hadn't had his lunch with Mason, he took his eye off of Liam for just a mere second, then and at the game...did he lose?
The question reeled in his mind as he went to walk back to his own room, his friend's had left the dining hall before he had. He'd had every intention of sharing with them everything had happened, but he quickly noticed once he'd finally entered his room, that he was not going to be the first to speak.
"Where the hell were you?!" Emily demanded of him, she marched over to him and tugged him the rest of the way into the room. Everyone else sat there, as though they were parents ready to scold their child. "You disappeared until after lunch!"
Spencer rubbed his arm through his jacket, awkward and uncomfortable. He shuffled his feet on the hardwood, and focused his attention on the scratches that littered the smooth surface. "Mason bailed me out of class," he explained.
"Why'd he do that?" Penelope asked. She was seated on the floor, her laptop, unsurprisingly, in her lap. He wondered how she'd retrieved it so fast between dinner and that moment.
"...he wanted to teach me how to carve a jack-'o-lantern," Spencer admitted, he felt his face heat up as the whole room stared at him in bewilderment. He'd mentioned it before, but with recent events being what they were, the group probably would have expected him to redirect his focus.
"Why weren't you at lunch?" Derek demanded. "We were worried sick about you, man!"
"He took me out for lunch," Spencer explained, he raised his head to see that Derek looked furious. "I know I should have been keeping an eye on Liam!" Spencer admitted. "But...Mason knows a lot about the school..and I remembered what Aaron said about branching out, so I decided to see if I could learn any new information."
"From the groundskeeper?" Derek asked him in disbelief.
"Yeah, by the way he said for me to tell you to stop getting wasted on school nights," Spencer quipped. Derek's eyebrows shot up, and his mouth popped open. He heard behind him David losing it, he was leaned up against the side of Spencer's bed.
"Well tell him to mind his own business," Derek shot back, his arms crossed over the chest, and Penelope gently pat his ankle.
"Did you learn anything important?" Aaron cut in, before Spencer could reply to Derek's remark. "Other than how to carve a jack-o'-lantern?"
"I didn't even learn the latter all that well," Spencer admitted, he walked over to his bed and plopped down on it, amused by how David inched away from his shoes. "Not much of use. Except...I think Mason knows something is going on, he just doesn't know who is behind it. He also told me there's a lot of corruption in the school, and no matter how many kids we lose...it will probably be covered up." Spencer shrugged. "My guess is the perpetrator knows it, as well."
"Anything else on Liam?" Derek inquired, hands now folded in his lap and he leaned in. Obviously, Derek was still focused on Liam's possibility as the culprit, and after the day he'd had, Spencer couldn't blame him.
"He was VERY tense when the death was brought up," Spencer informed the room. "He showed some classic symptoms of guilt and he, well, he said something," Spencer begun, not quite sure how to put it in the correct context. Everyone seemed to lean in, eager to hear what it was. "We were talking about retaining information...and...he...he said if you take your eye of something for one moment, then you lose," Spencer quoted back to them. "It wasn't so much the words as how he said them, they had meaning to them."
They all looked at Aaron expectantly, but the boy merely sighed and shrugged. "Inconclusive," he stated. Derek and David both let out sounds of frustration, and Aaron quickly continued, "His words fit into the context of your discussion, Spencer, it could have just been that you were hypervigilant," he suggested.
Spencer narrowed his eyes, and frowned deeply. "I'm perfectly aware of knowing what is going on around me," Spencer informed the other boy haughtily. "I know that what he said has a deeper meaning."
"Is that a fact?" Aaron inquired.
Spencer drooped, his anger suddenly vanished, and he wrung his fingers together, looked at the way they intersected, and took in a deep breath before he answered, "No."
"Why are you so set on it not being him?" Derek inquired of Aaron, he looked annoyed and frustrated.
"I'm not set against it being him, and honestly he's our best bet, but I'm working with the facts, Derek. We have no proof that Liam hurt anyone. All we have is our assumptions, which won't do us any good," Aaron explained calmly, voice even. But his posture betrayed his own anxiousness, it was obvious he was just as much of a mess internally as the rest of them.
"What about the rejected football players?" Spencer asked. "Did you get any names?"
"Everyone was too pissed off about the game being cancelled to have questions asked," Derek explained. "I tried to work it in as a way to ask about new players, they told me some names, babygirl is going to do a search on them." He gestured to Penelope, who saluted Spencer from her location on the floor.
"I will leave no stone unturned," she assured them. "I will sit here on my perfect posterior until we find our guy."
"...That is the oddest assurance of hard work I've ever heard," David mused, and most of the room chuckled or laughed.
"I just wish we had more to work with," Emily told them, she had begun to pace, and picked at her nails as she did so. "All we know is Spencer's expert opinion." Spencer flushed, flattered at being referred to as an "expert". "That it's cyanide," Emily continued. "Also that the target seems to be kids in sports. Beyond that? It's all unclear."
"At least we have a main suspect," Penelope reminded them cheerfully. "That's always good, right?"
"Not when you have no proof to back up your claim," David replied honestly. "Without proof it's just another complication."
"I just wish we had more-." Emily was cut off by a knock on the door. It was loud, and echoed through the room. She frowned in confusion, and observed all the people already inside. They were all there.
"Who is that?" Penelope whispered.
"Time to find out," Emily replied and approached the door, she cracked it open, and they all saw the look of shock that came over her face before they saw who it was. "Jennifer?" She asked in surprise.
Penelope gasped, and immediately set her computer next to herself, she rose from the ground eagerly as the blonde smiled politely at the door.
"Hi, Emily," Jennifer greeted politely, she eyed inside the room. "Can I come in? It's important."
"Come in!" Penelope pushed past Emily, before the brunette could reply, and opened the door widely. Jennifer grinned at her and walked into the room slowly, hesitantly. It was odd, her knock had so much power, but she really seemed so nervous.
"Hey," David greeted, his voice rather polite, but confused. "What brings you here?"
"I came here because..." Jennifer sighed and ran a hand through her blonde hair, she released an uncomfortable laugh that held no humor in it. The whole room looked at her with concern. "Look, I know we haven't been close lately-."
"That's an understatement," David cut her off, Jennifer bit her lip and nodded, and Penelope glared at him with enough wrath to kill.
"I know we haven't been close," Jennifer continued. "But that doesn't change the fact that I've known you guys since I started coming here...well...most of you." She cast a glance over to Spencer, who couldn't think of anything else to do except give her an awkward wave. To his surprise, she actually gave him a rather kind smile in return for his efforts. "So I know when you guys are up to something."
"What do you mean?" Aaron asked her, he cast a glance to the rest of the room, the faces which looked just as lost on what to do as he did.
Jennifer actually smiled with almost affection. "Come on, Aaron. I can see you guys from my table, too, you know. I can see you guys leaning in and whispering to each other, casting glances around the whole lunch room, and especially looking at me. I know you guys know that there's something going on...and when Penelope questioned me...I became sure of it," Jennifer explained. "I know you," she told Penelope, who she turned to look at. The other blonde seemed to have tears in her eyes. "I know when you're acting off, and you were acting off. Look." She sucked in a deep breath, and closed her eyes for a moment. "I knew something was going on, but I didn't want to admit it to myself. I even tried to ignore it after I heard the rumors about Ronald Richardson truly having overdosed and not just left. But after...after what happened at the game, I can't ignore it."
"Ignore what?" Aaron asked her, he looked at her intently, waiting for her to make the first move.
"I know you guys know that something is going on," Jennifer announced. "You guys admitted it to yourselves long before I was able to." She closed her eyes once again, and sniffled slightly. She stood there, in the middle of the room, open and honest, right in front of a group of old friends who she'd had next to no contact to recently. Spencer couldn't help but admire the bravery it had to take to do such a thing. "Keith didn't die because of asthma, Richardson didn't leave or die of an overdose, and Kathryne-." Her voice had wobbled, and Penelope had rushed closer to her to place a comforting hand on her shoulder, Jennifer instantly leaned into it. "Kathryne didn't die because of natural causes."
There was a long moment of silence in the room. It was almost as though no one knew quite what to say. They all felt validated in their own beliefs, much like Spencer had when Mason had hinted at his own, but none knew what to say.
"Before she." Jennifer sucked in another breath, and her eyes reflected the bravery inside of her, for the next words to leave her mouth would impact everyone. "Before she died, Kathryne told me her water tasted funny, like something had gotten in it," Jennifer admitted, tears welled in her brave eyes. "Then she died. I...I told myself it was just her taste buds, that it was nothing. Because it seemed too terrible to actually be something. Especially since I figured that if there was anything wrong with her, they would have found it in the autopsy report." She looked rueful. "But they didn't. So I just thought I was crazy for thinking it."
Everyone absorbed her words. They all knew that Kathryne had said something about her drink before she fell, and now they all felt validated in their belief of what she had said. Jennifer stood before them, she held back her tears and stared at the rest of the room.
"You guys must think I'm awful," she continued once no one had spoken. "For not saying anything."
"Nothing you said would have done any good," Aaron assured her, his voice sympathetic and low in volume. "You counted on the officials to do the right thing, you didn't do anything wrong."
Jennifer smiled gratefully at him. "You guys are trying to figure out who did it, aren't you?" She asked. "You're the only people I know who are crazy enough to try."
"I resent that," David said. Jennifer turned to look at him, and raised a blonde brow. "Well, it's true, but I resent it."
Jennifer laughed softly, before she sobered up again. "Kathryne was my friend, and if you are the only people that are trying to figure out who killed her, then I want in," she announced.
"You're sure about it?" Emily asked her, she still stood by the door. "Like you said, we're pretty crazy."
"Not to mention it could damage your image," Derek added, his voice was slightly light-hearted, but it also carried a note of hurt to it. Jennifer's face softened as she looked at him.
"I don't care about my image," she informed him, and the rest of the room. "I care about finding out who did this, but I also care about all of you," she explained. "I want my friends back."
"If you're serious-." Aaron was cut off by Jennifer,
"Oh, I am."
"Then you've got them," Aaron told her. "That is, if the rest will have you."
There was a moment of silence, before everyone slowly nodded their head, Penelope the most eager. Spencer just merely sat there, he was never her friend, and didn't know if he had the right to nod or not.
"Oh! We also have Spencer now!" Penelope released Jennifer's arm to run over to Spencer, and tugged him to his feet. He let out a groan of annoyance at being pulled from his bed. "Isn't he cute?!"
Jennifer snickered, and brought a hand to her mouth to cover her smile at the miserable expression on Spencer's face. "Adorable," she replied.
"Well, Jennifer," David begun, and smirked up at her from his position on the floor. "Welcome to the team."
"Oh, David," Jennifer scoffed. "Please. We both know it's JJ."