AN: Sorry for the wait. I just couldn't get to a computer to upload the latest chapter. I think this one feels more like an interlude, but interpret it as you will. I'll be posting another update this weekend in case I have the same issue this next week, too. As always, thanks so much for reading and please let me know your thoughts, if you get a moment.

Chapter Twelve

I'll Be Damned

Right after lunch I get a text from Jo reminding me to ask Danny about the reason he killed his aunt. This morning, I told her I was uncomfortable with the task, but she insisted that I'd have better luck than she did. I can't tell her that I have a rule about at least one other person being nearby when Danny and I are in the same space, so I simply agree and hope that Jo appreciates the sacrifice I'm making.

Principal Tang religiously patrols this side of the school during the sixth period so part of me is sort of hoping all of the smokers will have scattered before we're scheduled to meet. Another part of me is hoping that someone will be there so the meeting with Danny will have to be postponed. I don't know what makes me think that texting him to meet me just before the final class of the day is a good idea, but I do it and wait for him at the side door.

Unfortunately, this side of the school is deserted when I arrive. I heave a sigh, tap my foot nervously and have a death grip on my bag as I wait. After a few minutes, I find myself thinking my old mantra, My past does not govern my future, before I can stop myself, but it helps ground me in the moment.

I'm on the brink of leaving when Danny exits out the side door and approaches me wearing a bright smile.

Without build up or introductory small talk, he eagerly says, "Last time you texted me for a secret meeting, things got a little intense." Wow. I did not expect him to come right out with that.

I'm slightly thrown off but recover quickly and muster up the guts to talk about that day five years ago that I usually refuse to even think about. I sound calm and assertive when I say, "Danny, we need to talk."

"Yeah, I agree," he says noncommittally with a shrug. He's not following the script. This is going to be much harder than I thought especially if he's thinking it's about what happened between us on Friday night.

"Not about that." What happened with Danny was a mistake and will not happen ever again. I'm squeezing the strap of my bag so hard my fingernails are starting to dig into my palm, but I remain confident. I take a deep breath and then another before saying, "It's about five years ago."

He chuckles and does his typical evasive joking maneuver, but I cut him off before he can get too silly. Two can play this game, Mr. Desai.

Although this is not going at all the way I imagined, I refuse to break eye contact. "You know what I mean. I want to discuss that day and what happened with Tara."

All humor leaves his face. "Now? Right here? At school? Why? Why now?"

I knew this was a bad idea. I should have asked him to meet me at the fort, or even his house. I am so not ready for this conversation to happen, but I have to move forward as if I mean to finish. I highly doubt I can attempt this again later. "Why not now?" I snap.

"God, Lacey. I can't take all these mixed signals," he sputters, frustration entering his tone.

I thought my question was perfectly clear. How can he get mixed signals from that?

"You stand up for me to Archie and then you avoid me. You kiss me and then you say you can't do it again. You text me about some secret meeting and then you ask me weird questions about my aunt. What is this?"

"It's not a weird question."

"Lacey, that kiss–" This is totally not what I'm prepared to hear. I should not have abandoned the Third Party Present Rule. If someone else were around this conversation would not be derailing this badly. I see the tension building in his neck and shoulders as he struggles to articulate his thoughts. "That kiss is all I think about. All day. Every day. Don't you think about it too?" The vulnerability of his uncertainty slams into my chest.

I don't want to know this. I can't know this. My lips part to answer his question, but I don't make a sound. Why can't he just focus on the question I'm asking him? I really look at him and see the wounded longing in his eyes. He's not going to tell me anything I want to hear. I'm not going to tell him what he wants to hear either. I try to swallow but my mouth is too dry.

I don't realize my breathing has sped to the rate of my heart until Danny repeats, "Don't you?"

This was a terrible idea. I never should have listened to Jo. I hope I'm shaking my head, but I can't feel my body right now. I'm having an out of body experience. I can see myself, but I'm not really there experiencing this. Is this what being in shock feels like?

"Danny, I–" My mouth falls open again still speechless, but it doesn't matter because he cuts in.

"You don't feel the same way?" I'm definitely not answering that question, but my silence seems to be answer enough for him. He nods as if he can hear my thoughts. The world gets smaller as he steps into my personal bubble. "You and I both know that is not true."

The intensity in his gaze grows and all I can see are his persuasive light brown eyes. My mouth is suddenly so dry I know that no amount of liquid will ever replenish its moisture. He studies me for a moment longer, searching for something, but if he discovers anything, he isn't saying. I inhale again and by chance smell his cinnamon tinged aftershave thrusting me back into the memory of forbidden kisses and frantic fingers.

A bird chirping in a nearby tree breaks the spell, and I'm back in my body able to blink and free myself from his too perceptive stare. I've lost this round.

I tighten my hold on the strap of my bag and with one final look bite my lip. Slowly, I sidestep around him and walk back into the school, one hundred percent sure that I've failed that interrogation.

Being guilt-ridden is exhausting and making my life hell.

It's hard to believe that the brief shameful moments that keep replaying in my mind all happened in one short weekend. Mostly because their guilt-laden aftereffects are taking a toll on me and have been adversely influencing my actions all week.

First of all, Jo and I have been regularly sneaking to the fort to discuss what Danny may or may not be hiding from us while simultaneously keeping a huge secret from him. Secondly, I've been creeping my friends out with questions about Regina's enemies, secret boytoys, private problems and her necklace. Thirdly, when I'm not attempting to interrogate him, I'm ducking into bathrooms and random classrooms whenever I see a guy with long, dark hair in a mad attempt to avoid lying to Danny or getting sucked into his too keen eyes. And finally, I've been spending every spare minute with Archie trying to prove I'm the good, faithful girlfriend he deserves and making myself miserable in the process.

The stress of all of this mystery and spy work is weakening my resolve, my confidence and my reputation. I can barely stay awake in class and hardly remember what a normal conversation is supposed to sound like. That, combined with my mounting guilt, has led me to the most embarrassing conversation I've ever had in my own room. If I weren't so mentally drained, sharing my innermost thoughts this way would never have crossed my mind.

"Nothing we're about to discuss can ever leave this room."

My soon to be confidant enthusiastically nods in agreement.

"I'm serious. If you ever speak of, allude to or even think about mentioning any of this, then I will make ruining your life my sole purpose for living." This time the accompanying nod is much slower and more wary. I see her swallow and hear the uncertainty in her voice when she whispers, "I get it. What do you want me to do?"

"Just pretend that we're friends and you have my best interests at heart."

"I do have your best interests at heart, Lacey. I am your sister." Clara rolls her eyes then proceeds to make herself comfortable on my bed with Daffy sleeping next to her.

"Whatever," I shrug and flop down backwards on the foot of my bed. "Just promise that what is said in my room stays in my room. You're the only one I can trust to keep your mouth shut because I guarantee a slow and painful dismemberment if you say anything you're about to hear to anyone. Ever." I straighten out my right arm towards her, pinky extended.

She fearfully nods stretching out her left pinky over Daffy to hook it with mine. "I promise," she says with a slight squeeze of her pinky.

We smile at each other and I fall back again staring at the ceiling. "Now, tell Dr. Clara everything," she says in an exceedingly serious tone.

I let out a really deep, long breath. Here goes nothing. "Sometimes I think it would be better if Danny never came back to Green Grove," I start.

"Really? You mean the Danny that told me that eating wormy mud pies would make me smarter and faster than you?"

"Clara, this isn't gonna work if you interrupt. I just have to get all this out, first, and then you can talk, okay?"

"Right. But wouldn't a friend say something?"

"What? Just pretend you're my mute friend. Okay?"

"Okay. Sorry," she intones sarcastically.

"Anyways, sometimes I just want to yell at him for doing what he did. Or run away from him or just never see him again, you know? Then there are other times. Like when I regret not keeping in touch while he was in Juvie or when I catch him watching me like he's afraid I'll disappear if doesn't keep looking. Then I start to wonder what he sees when he looks at me. Do I make him nervous the way he does me? I can't figure out exactly what he wants from me. And I don't know what I want at all.

"So, I basically tell myself that I'll ignore him and that he won't make my stomach do summersaults when I seen him, but as soon as I even think his name I know it's a lie."

"Even now?"

"Clara!"

She mimes zipping her lips.

I take a breath and close my eyes to return to my train of thought. "Since Danny reentered the picture, it's like he's taken over all aspects of my life. He's all I've been thinking about. It's like I'm obsessed and can't delete him from my brain.

"I promise myself that I won't smile back at him when he smirks at me, but as soon as I catch his eye, I become a hypocrite. I want to move forward with my life. I have to figure this out, but no matter what I decide, I know I'm going to lose something."

The bed shifts under me, but I ignore Clara's movements maintaining my focus on my stream of consciousness monologue.

"If I choose to figure out what is going on between Danny and me, my friends won't understand. Would they really drop me because of feelings I can't control? I don't want to lose them over a boy, but… Maybe if I could convince them that he didn't have anything to do with Regina's murder, then maybe they'll be more accepting of him.

"But if Danny and I have a relationship, that would mean Archie and I would be over, you know? Maybe that'll be reason enough for them to drop me.

"Worst of all, I don't even know how I feel about Archie anymore. If my feelings for Danny are temporary and clouding my feelings for Archie, then if we break up it'll all have been for nothing, right?

"But on the other hand, if I choose my friends and turn my back on Danny, I know I'll always wonder if I made the right decision. If our feelings for each other turn out to be more than a friendship we would be missing out on something special, you know? I could also miss out on my chance to be friends with Jo again, too. I don't think she'd forgive me if I really ignored Danny."

"Probably not."

I disregard her interjection and continue spouting out my thoughts. I'm in a rhythm and am close to getting it all out of my head.

"But he has too many secrets. I don't want a relationship built on a rocky foundation of lies. I really think… I don't know what I think." Frustrated, I groan. Maybe saying everything I'm thinking isn't going to work. It's not making me feel any better like I thought it would.

I struggle to release my next thoughts, afraid that if I say it aloud and Clara hears, then it will be real. This is the exact reason I made her swear to never bring up this conversation ever again. If I can't trust that she'll keep her word, then there's no one else that I can talk to that won't judge me and can't just leave me.

So, it's now or never. I'm going to trust my little sister with everything.

"I like him. I like him, but I don't really know him. I want him, but I don't really trust him.

"So now you know. I like him," I repeat with more force, "and I don't know what to do about it. I'm even desperate enough to come to you for advice. But that's only because I can't tell anyone else. I can't trust anyone else, Clara." I roll onto my side propping my head up on my right hand and look at Clara. "So what do you prescribe for me, Doc?"

She silently stares at me for a long moment. I fight to keep my nerves under control and patiently await a response. She promised, I remind myself. The moment stretches and I wonder if she weren't paying attention and if I were just talking to myself all this time. I'm about to kick her out of my room when she finally says, "Wow." She's looking directly at me and suddenly seems much older than thirteen. "Can I tell you it's so great that you told me? I promise I won't tell anyone. For real. Not even Amber. Second, you're totally in love with Danny!" And she's a thirteen-year-old middle school student again.

My face falls and I'm unsure if I heard her correctly.

"Excuse me?"

"So maybe not totally," she reluctantly amends. "Maybe you need to get to know him again in order to figure it all out. Maybe he'll stop being so secretive once he gets to know you again, too. But I think you kinda have to break up with Archie either way. And you should maybe try and trust your friends." Her sentences end with rising inflection so it's unclear whether or not she is asking questions and if she expects me to respond. I let her continue, waiting for her to let me know when she has a non-rhetorical query. "At least Phoebe. She's cool, but I don't know about Sarita. If they aren't friends with you just because of who you like, they're not really your friends anyway, right? Now, can I ask a question?"

I sigh and look at her skeptically. "You can ask, but I may not answer."

"Deal." Her smile triples in size. "Do you know if he likes you back? Did he kiss you?"

With a groan I drop back onto the mattress and cover my eyes with my arm wondering how it came to this. Her giggling startles Daffy and she lazily crawls over and flops onto my stomach. I suddenly feel like I'm ten again and a giddy laugh erupts from my throat. I bite my lip, but can't contain the excited energy racing through my body. Just remembering how he felt pressed against me in the park makes me flush with dizzy embarrassment. I haven't been very good about the Third Party Present Rule when it comes to him.

"Yeah, he kissed me," I finally reply and have to cover my ears when Clara lets out a squeal loud enough to rival the most hardcore One Direction fan. Daffy instantly joins in with a low howl of her own.

I'm still not one hundred percent sure of what I'm going to do about Danny, but I do have an idea that whatever I choose Archie isn't going to like it. I'm no longer giddy as I think about how disappointed he's going to be the next time he sees me.

Deputy Sandra Dewitt and Deputy Edward Garrett sat in Chief Masterson's office staring at the necklace the search team found two nights ago in McNally Lake while their boss paced behind his desk.

"I'll be damned," Dewitt whispered in astonishment. "The kid was right. How long have you been sitting on that, sir?"

The chief shrugged and continued pacing.

"It doesn't prove that Karen or Danny Desai put it there," Garrett said crossing his arms over his chest.

"If Rico says he saw Karen Desai throw this in the Lake, I believe him, Eddie," Chief Masterson stated.

Garrett chuckled. "Good luck getting Karen Desai to admit it. I think lying goes hand in hand with being a Desai."

"Or being a mother protecting her son. Or being a teenager," Dewitt added, matter of fact. "Ok, we have a necklace. We still don't know where it fits into the puzzle. No one knew anything about it when we had a picture of it, what will they be able to tell us now that it's real? What next? We've still got nothing on the paint from the missing murder weapon."

"I just know that finding this necklace implicates both of them. Either she's covering for him, or he's covering for her. At the very least they're obstructing justice," the Chief insisted.

"What about going straight to Mrs. Desai? See if she'll talk. Didn't you just get her that job to butter her up? Maybe she'll finally let something slip," Garrett suggested.

"You are charming," Dewitt added with a smile.

"Already attempted," Chief Masterson admitted. "After you turn someone's house inside out they no longer find you that charming." He resumed his pacing. "But you're right. I need to speak with her again. And Danny. Am I getting old or are teenagers getting smarter?"

"A little bit of both, I reckon. And you're getting soft in your old age," Garrett laughed. "But he's still just a kid and they're never as clever as they think they are," he finished seriously.

"We also might want to talk to his friends again. Even Jo. They may know more than they're saying. Like Eddie said. They're just kids." Dewitt stood up and left to answer her cell phone.

Chief Masterson sighed in agreement then shrugged before turning to sit at his desk.

Garrett stood and hesitated before finally saying, "I know it's a long shot, but maybe the connection we're looking for isn't between Tara Desai and Regina Crane. You said the necklace is a Desai family heirloom, right? Maybe Regina had a connection to another member of the Desai family. A different dead relative, perhaps?" Garrett bowed slightly and left.

Brow furrowed in concentration, Chief Masterson tapped at his keyboard. Garret just might be on to something. It was going to be another long night of research. Tess was not going to be pleased.